The day of the boat parade was a Saturday. Summer was in full bloom, as the sky and the sea both blushed their most vivid hues of blue. The parks were filled to burst with thriving greenery and happy people out enjoying the weather. The suns heat sweltered down like an oppressive weight, and to the beaches the crowds flooded, swimming or eating ice cream to keep cool as they waited for the parade to start. But far away from the shoreline in the musk of a molding little apartment, buried in a disgusting mess of un-discarded take out boxes and dirty dishes sat Arthur Light. He was stripped down to his boxers and a t-shirt with dark sweat stains descending from either armpit. Cursing the fact he had no air-conditioning, he tried his utmost to remain engrossed in his work.
It was harder than usual for him to remain on task. Despair had begun to grow deep inside him, and he couldn't quite place why. He wrote it off as his unfulfilled craving for vengeance paired with his present poverty. He mulled this explanation over in his mind, and became steadily surer of it. Yes, it made sense. He had been wronged after all. As soon as his work was done and he could put his plan into motion it would go away. He focused on his fury, concentrated it into rabid determination that fueled his fingers as he tinkered, sweated, and labored his life away. If he was lucky he could have his new suit ready for use tomorrow, he couldn't wait! In his mind he tried to imagine the Titans lying before him, scattered and broken. All the glory and fame the criminal underworld would shower onto him! He imagined himself as strong, victorious, and happy.
Yet in the back of his mind he couldn't quite make himself believe it. Beyond the delusions of grandeur, and ambitions of vengeance, the cold reality of his life was that he was a 42 year old grocery store clerk who lived in a crappy apartment and hadn't a single person in all the world to call a friend. He was tired and lonely, and incapable of admitting it. At this point in his life the Titans were all he had left. So he kept on into the night diligently ticking away the hours of his life, and when he heard the cheers and the fireworks as the city echoed with joy he clutched his tools with a tighter heart and scowled.
Mixing amongst the citizens of Jump city was always a conspicuous event. There really was no way to go around in public with a giant robot-man, a green changeling, and two levitating women, and not have a few heads turn. A little boy, about five or six, with a big gap in between his front teeth ran right up to the Raven and grabbed onto her cloak.
"Hai Raven!" He exclaimed with bright innocent eyes. Raven turned and stared at him dully, but the child was unperturbed. "You're my favorite!" His mother caught up to him now; prying his greasy little fingers off of the black velvet fabric. Picking him up, and casting them a tired look of apology as she hauled off the runaway. "Bye! Bye!" The kid waved over his mother's shoulder.
Raven smiled briefly, and they continued on their way. At a street vendor they each got an ice cream and sat at a picnic table near the water. They ate in silence as the boats slowly drifted by. It wasn't particularly exciting, but it was a Jump City tradition. After a while Starfire sighed.
"I wish Robin would have come" she said, staring at her melting ice cream cone.
"Why'd he have to be such a jerk? He's been worse than Raven lately!" Beastboy scoffed. Raven cast a dark glare at him from the depths of her hood.
"Something ain't right with him. I think he's letting himself get too stressed." Cyborg said with concern.
"How do you even get stressed doing this?" Beast boy asked "all you have to do is hang out until the bad guys attack, and then bam! Ha!" He mimed fighting motions in the air, and accidently dropped his ice cream in the dirt.
"You know Robin. He's obsessed with being prepared for anything." Cyborg replied.
"Wonder where he got that from." Raven observed, eyeing Beastboy with quiet disgust as he shifted into a dog and began eagerly licking the ice-cream from the ground.
"Robin will be okay, yes?" Starfire said, her large green eyes filled with worry.
"Of course," Cyborg said softly "we just gotta keep an eye on him, that's all."
They passed the rest of the day away, with idle chat and laughter until the heat of the afternoon gave way to the cool of the summer evening. A breeze flowed from the land out over the water, arousing tiny ripples along the surface. Out over the water, with the starry sky as a backdrop, the fireworks show began with a bang. One after another, bright colorful flowers of fire bloomed in the sky. Thousands of dark upturned faces watched, being faintly illuminated with every crack and bang. The finale came and the sky was on fire with light and noise, it was a moment you couldn't afford to miss.
Up in Titan's tower Robin stirred in his dreams, he had collapsed face first on his desk into an uncomfortable sleep. The last thunderous bang shocked him awake, and he sat bolt upright rubbing his burning tired eyes as the booming echo dissipated across the bay. With bleary eyes he glared at his computer screen, he felt resentful and wasn't sure why. Raggedly, he sighed, and set back to work. The click-clacking of drowsy fingers stumbling across his keyboard was his only companion in the dark silence of his room. A resentful unease wandered through the back of his mind, growing more persistent, it pressed itself into his consciousness. His friends didn't understand, he assured himself with a surge of frustration. They would rather spend their spare time care-free, and goofing off. Surely he was the responsible one in this situation, he assured himself, if they were unwilling then it was up to him the team leader to step up to the plate. He turned this idea over in his mind, growing steadily more stubbornly certain of it. It was a rational conclusion after all, he had a duty to perform and a city to protect. He focused more intensely on his determination, growing like a flame inside of him and scattering the fog of drowsiness threatening to overtake him.
Yet in the back of his mind doubt held out. Beyond his devotion to his work and chosen path in life, the reality was that he was a young man in the prime of his life, who instead of being out with friends had chosen to lock himself away in his bedroom. Though he denied it to himself and others, a part of himself had grown lonely, and longed to take part in the social pastimes his age group normally enjoyed. But he rejected these thoughts, casting them away from his mind. Instead, he sat hunched over his keyboard diligently ticking away the best years of his life. When the first rays of sunlight finally came pouring over the horizon, he was slumped over his desk, drowning deep in an uncomfortable sleep.