Chapter 3- Man in the Mirror

I woke up to the sound of a taxi honking its horn outside. It was dark and the rain had stopped. I rolled over on my stomach as the fog cleared from my head. I felt weak and was slightly amused when I realized that my new obsession had precluded me from eating or drinking in over a day. I lay there a few minutes more, yawning and trying to decide what I wanted to eat. Cereal, delivery, or do I go out for food? The beauty of living in a city as large as New York was it didn't matter what time of the day or night it was, you could pretty much get anything you wanted. If you walked into a diner at 3:00 am looking like hell and pale as death as I no doubt did, no one cared or even looked twice at you. My kind of town.

I rested my head on my arm and sniffed. Then I sniffed again. I picked my head up and wrinkled my nose. Gingerly, I pulled my shirt to my nose and inhaled. I grimaced when I realized that I had not bothered to shower either. I was starting to emit a musky odor that offended even me. Cleansing rituals would have to come before sustenance I decided while doing a pushup into a standing posture from the floor. I felt a little dizzy, but made my way to the bathroom and turned on the hot water in the shower.

I peeled off my soiled clothing and felt refreshed when the slightly cooler ambient air came in contact with my bare skin. The tile floor was cold against the soles of my bare feet and served to wake me up. I caught a glimpse of my nude body in the mirror on the back of the bathroom door. I was still much like that awkward kid with elongated limbs stretched out from a tall, thin frame. The difference now was I was an adult and was no longer stumbling into things. I had learned to execute movements with smooth, exact precision. I was finally comfortable in my own skin.

My body was an efficient tool with which to use my many acquired abilities. There may have been a time when I was younger when I wished I had more muscle mass like the football players. Women seemed attracted to men who had bulky muscles while the guys who had leaner physiques like mine were ignored. I sneered at the thought of being heavily muscled now. I found my body very useful as it was; it was light, nimble and fast.

I prepared the sink with an array of shaving materials. The stubble on my cheeks had grown too long and I rubbed them while looking into the mirror at my reflection. The face of Gabriel Gray looked back at me blankly. His large dark eyes, full lips, and thin face were nothing special to me, but I was working on a curious theory I had noticed. Women seemed attracted to his face if I made it look soft. I widened my eyes a bit, lowered my head slightly and stretched my lips into a wide grin. Woops, too much and that was Sylar. Women, and men for that matter, were afraid of Sylar. I had to work on Gabriel a little more. I practiced with different styles of smiling until I found a medium range that looked non-threatening and unassuming for his face.

I had also found that lowering my voice and speaking in a quiet, slow, precise diction along with Gabriel's face was particularly appealing. Men seemed to prefer slightly more Sylar with an authoritative edge to the voice in a slightly higher range. If the voice was too low or there was too much Sylar, they became defensive and territorial. I found it curious how humans were still very primal despite millions of years of socialization. We are nothing more than slightly tamed animals. I embraced this knowledge, took it as an evolutionary imperative to evolve beyond my more primitive brethren so I may survive while they perish.

I could no longer see my reflection due to the room being filled with hot steam from the shower. I cooled the water a bit before stepping in the shower and relished the feeling of water and slippery soap sliding over my skin and washing away the dirt and oils that had accumulated. I scrubbed my hair and skin until they squeaked and then scrubbed some more. I turned off the water and pulled back the curtain relieved, I felt alive and human again.

I quickly drew a towel across my body to dry most of the water off, but I opened the bathroom door to clear the steam so I could see to shave and figured I would air dry the rest of the way. The air was cold, but refreshing. I wiped condensation off the mirror and proceeded to shave with the old straight razor my mother had given me so long ago. It was sharp and I was mindful of that as I carefully dragged it against my skin, clearing a trail of shaving cream and hair one strip at a time. I had cut myself enough times to know it was something to be avoided. I simply hated walking around the house with small bits of wet toilet paper stuck to my face while waiting for the bleeding to stop. I washed my face and examined my smooth complexion in the mirror. I looked much younger when I was clean shaven, but I knew the hair would be back before the day was over.

Feeling good about being clean, I decided to go out for food. I put on jeans and a sweater and decided to leave my hair as it was when I got out of the shower, messy and untouched. I gathered my wallet and keys and smiled slightly as I strapped my watch to my wrist. The broken face was so familiar and past one of the cracks you could just read "Sylar" printed in white on the black dial. So many memories, so much had changed since those early days when I felt so insignificant and lost.

"Not anymore." I whispered to myself and felt a wicked grin slide across my face as I slammed the door behind me.