Chapter 10: Shriek - A shrill, often frantic cry.
Life was blessedly Peter-free for four days. Four days free of sarcastic quips and tip-toeing around Gwen so she didn't catch wind of my absolute disdain for her new lab partner. Speaking of Gwen, she never had the chance to ask me how I knew Peter. From that night on, I stayed away from the apartment as much as I could, wanting to avoid any more situations that could put me (or her) in a bad spot.
On the fourth day, a Saturday, I came home from the first half of rehearsal to an empty apartment. It was a beautiful day; slight breeze, mid-70's and not a cloud in the sky. Without a second thought, I changed into a bikini I hadn't worn in months - and also silently celebrated the fact that it still fit perfectly. I threw on a pair of cut off shorts, slipped my feet into a pair of sandals then grabbed a towel, headphones and iPod and made my way to the rooftop. I laid the towel down, put the headphones in and let the world escape me.
An hour later, when I felt my fair skin beginning to burn, I gathered my stuff and made my way back inside. In the elevator, I bobbed my head to my favorite song, pausing only to turn the volume up to an obscene -and undoubtedly harmful- level.
"Ooooo," I held my fist to my mouth like a microphone and sang to my reflection in the stainless steel elevator doors, "She grew up in an Indiana town, had a good lookin' mama who never was arrrround," I paused to let Tom Petty sing a line I had momentarily forgotten. While his southern twang cooed into my ear, I spun around in the elevator car. Perhaps it was the obnoxious level at which I was listening to the song (or perhaps it was because I was too engrossed in my Miley Cyrus-esque dance routine) but I didn't feel the elevator stop moving, nor did I hear the ding of the elevator doors as they opened onto my floor.
I spun around and gasped in horror. I was staring up into the last face I ever wanted to see.
Peter stood with one arm crossed over his stomach, his other elbow propped against it, chin resting in his palm. He watched me with a look of pure, devilish amusement, cocking his head to the side in comical puzzlement. I was too stunned to push him out of the way. I yanked the earbuds from my ears and stared angrily into his face.
"What are you looking at?"
He chuckled then nodded towards me, "Carry on, Watson. Don't let us stop you."
I shoved past him and nearly barreled into a man standing directly behind him. "Man" does not justify this creature... Adonis would be more fitting. I dropped my towel and iPod to the floor as I collided into his solid body. I let them stay where they fell, unaware of anything except for the dark eyes staring down at me. His full lips curled into a crooked grin as he steadied me.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," He laughed a laugh that stretched up towards his eyes and revealed shallow dimples on either side of his luscious mouth. "Who do we have here?"
Something happened then that's never happened to me before.
I opened my mouth to speak but no words came out.
I was literally rendered speechless.
"Harry," Peter spoke, his tone void of any of the amusement I had just witnessed moments before. "Let's go."
Harry kneeled down and picked up my towel and iPod, taking a second to look at the iPod's screen. He stood and his beautiful face crumpled for a moment before he looked back at me.
"Your iPod's broken."
"Oh," I took the towel and iPod from his hands, hardly glancing at the broken iPod; hardly caring that it was even broken. "That's okay. I've been meaning to get a new one anyways."
"Harry-" Peter called him again, his tone growing more irate. This time, Harry took a step towards him but he kept his gaze locked on me.
"Bye, Red." Again, he smiled that beautiful crooked smile of his and I felt my heart stop for a moment. He stepped into the elevator and Peter immediately punched the button to close the doors. Peter leaned against the corner of the elevator car, eyes downcast to his tennis shoes, while Harry stood in the middle of the car, arms folded loosely across his stomach, his gaze fixed on me even as the doors began to close.
"Oh, my, gosh!" I burst into our apartment, tossing my towel and broken iPod onto the kitchen table. "GWEN!" Gwen had been nestled into the corner of the couch, face buried in a textbook and when I called her name, she smiled at me from over the top of the book.
"Who was that?!" I breathed my words as I slid onto the couch next to her.
She laughed and shook her head as she closed the book. "That would be Peter's best friend, Harry Osborne."
"Osborne?" I furrowed my brows, trying to recall how I knew that name.
"Oscorp?" She offered, either reading my mind or reading the puzzled expression upon my face.
My face crumpled, "As in... Oscorp Technologies?"
She nodded emphatically, trying to muster my excitement back up. "Yes!"
"Ugh," I felt the last bit of excitement drain from my limbs. Of course I knew who Harry Osborne was. There was an article about him in nearly every tabloid in New York each month. I stood from the couch and walked to the kitchen.
"What's wrong with that?" Gwen laughed, "Oscorp is a great organization. They've been the leader in scientific research for the past ten years."
I poked my head into the fridge, more for the refreshing cool air against my sunburnt skin than to satisfy my hunger.
I grabbed a water bottle then pulled my head from the fridge. "Whether Oscorp is a great organization or not, I'm not going to have my name affiliated with someone who was seen romping around town with the likes of Lindsay Lohan."
While I didn't say it out loud, the fact that Harry's family undoubtedly had more money than the president made me more uneasy about him than his weekend-long tryst with a former celebrity. I could just see the tabloids now: THE PRINCE AND HIS PAUPER.
Gwen didn't see through my half-lie and nodded.
"You know, I thought about that too." She spoke like a caring mother, nodding her head as she continued, "I figured he'd fall for you but I wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad thing."
I took a deep swing from the water bottle before replying, pointing the tip of the water bottle at her as I spoke, "On to the next one, my dear Gwen."
The second half of the rehearsal started again at five. Like I did with each rehearsal, I threw my entire self into the role. It was such a small role and yet, when the spotlight shined down on me as I stood on stage, I gave it everything I had. When I walked off stage, I watched every actor from behind the curtains and made mental notes on every action and every mannerism I liked, and also which ones I didn't like. It didn't matter that I only stood on that stage for thirty minutes and the play was nearly two hours long - I watched every bit of it, every rehearsal, and willed myself to become a better actress.
The rehearsal ended an hour past sunset and once again, Anthony offered to walk me to the subway station but I declined his offer. I walked the short distance from the theater to the subway station and boarded the train. This time around, I wasn't alone. Two men in their thirties and a slender woman around my age followed me into the train. All three of them were noticeably drunk, the woman hanging from one man's arm to the next. They laughed at some private joke but kept to themselves. I sat in a seat beside the door, crossing my legs Indian-style in the seat. As the train began to travel towards my part of town, I began to pick at wisps of stuffing coming out of large tears in the seat cushion.
It was only a fifteen minute ride but the drunk laughter had begun to grate on my nerves so when the train came to a halt and the doors rolled open, I nearly sprinted out of the subway train. I exited the station onto the street, leaving the sound of laughter echoing from the tunnel far behind me.
As I rounded the corner leading to my apartment building, I noticed three figures across the street from my building. I walked down the street, only a couple hundred feet from the entrance of my apartment. I stared across the street and when I walked closer, I realized it was the trio from the subway. They weren't laughing. Rather, they stared at me as I walked across the street from them, deathly still. The woman stood in between the men and when our eyes locked, she took a step closer to the street. I stopped walking, frozen for a moment.
The woman took another step towards the street but one of the men grabbed her arm. With an angry vengeance, she wrenched it free and began to run towards me.
Time seemed to slow down. I watched as she ran towards me, her pale face contorting as she shrieked loud enough to shake my inner ear. I grimaced in pain, holding my hands over my ears. Her black hair caught the wind and rose like Medusa's venomous locks. Before I turned my head, I swore even her hands had lit up with a crackling and sparking energy.
Adrenaline pumped through my veins, mobilizing my limbs once again. I sprinted towards my apartment, simultaneously fishing the keys from my pocket. I fumbled with the lock. I cursed myself and the landlord for not fixing the light hanging in the entryway. I heard the woman's heavy footsteps against the asphalt.
I finally got the key into the lock and turned it, opened the door, rushed inside then immediately closed it again. I dead-bolted the door and took two giant leaps back from it, breath ragged, chest heaving. When I didn't hear anything from behind the door, I lunged at it and peered out of the peephole.
Nothing.
Had this been the Kingpen's men? ...Or someone entirely new?