"You, come here, I don't have all day you know."
Right now I'm in the Daily Bugle building. It wasn't exactly that hard to find since they plastered the name in large font right at the front of it. Loud and proud huh?
The man before me is who I assume to be J. Jonah Jameson, who wears a purple suit, a white collar shirt underneath and a long orange tie. Now I know I shouldn't judge people's appearances in this day and age of quirks, but quite frankly it looks bloody ridiculous, like he's trying his best to stand out as much as he can. As for physical features his black hair is styled in almost a flat top, as it greys at the sides. I can only guess he's around his 40's, maybe 50's. And the most defining feature is that small stache of his, the width only reaching to the edges of his nose.
"I said get over here kid!"
"R-Right!" Damn, seems like I'm dealing with a hard-ass. I did some research before coming here and apparently this guy is actually quite successful within the city, being the biggest newspaper in Musutafu, along with a profitable online presence and even a podcast led by himself. I'd have to hazard a guess that the only reason he's so popular is because of the controversial topics he encroaches on, focusing heavily on criticizing much to do with hero culture. Or would it be more accurate to call him infamous?
As I go over to him, I pull some pictures out of my pocket, pictures of myself as Spider-Man. In various different poses, having shot them from my phone on a timer, took a long while to get them down pat and print them off. This might be somewhat illegal, but at this point I'm trying my best to get an in with this guy, anything for Aunt May.
"...And?" The man before you questions, eyebrow raised.
"They're pictures of a new vigilante. Calls himself Spider-Man." Oh god please buy it. I'm feeling myself getting sweaty at this situation I'm in right now.
Silence is felt as I wait for an answer.
Then, he looks up at me with a deadpan expression. "This looks like shit."
"Wha-what?" I get taken aback by that.
"What did you do, get this off a cheap phone?"
My silence only confirms that.
Jameson sighs at that, closing his eyes and then standing up, pushing against the table in front of him. "Here's some cash." What? My eyes bug out as I see him putting a hand to his pocket and picking his wallet out. "What you used was complete rubbish, but you don't seem to have the worst composition for a complete newbie. Buy something that'd get pics that wouldn't make me embarrassed to put into the papers and just maybe I'll consider any new ones you bring in. What are you staring for? GET OUT OF MY OFFICE AND ONLY COME BACK WHEN YOU HAVE SOMETHING FOR ME!"
My mouth, practically agape this whole time, just takes his advice and starts leaving, having barely noticed that his moustache grew with that last shout. Cash in hand after taking it from him. As I do so, I pass by a rather professional-looking woman with brunette hair. Behind me, before I leave I hear as they start to talk.
"Maybe you should ease up on the new guy."
"What? Kids like that need motivation, not me saying pretty words Brant."
As Jameson says that last piece, I'm already out the door, flabbergasted at what just happened.
—
Adjusting my glasses, I notice the warped and almost blurry look I get from having them on. Sheesh, going from always needing these to now being blinded by them, and I can't just get rid of them without someone asking a question or two.
I sigh, looking at my bag that's hanging off my desk, as I lazily grab at it to bring out the lunch from inside. Made by May herself, not that I'd ever admit that to anyone. I wasn't able to hide it though when I was younger, but these days she's able to make a rather authentic-looking bento box.
Speaking of people asking a question or two, I sure as hell can't go and throw pics of just myself at Jameson again. Once is enough, but twice in a row? I've gotta get something more actiony, more popping, something that'd let me have a reason to be there. Now just how am I gonna do that?
"Yo, bookworm."
Oh great. Flash.
"What do you want?" I say as I look to where he is, right beside my table. And from the looks of it he has a new posse, a blonde-haired girl with a sneer on her face who I recognize to be Gwen Stacy, a real popular girl in Midtown Mid, not that I can see why. And next to her is… Oh man that hair! Some guy who looks like he's trying way too hard to be a Norman Osborn look-alike with those waves of his, except a way uglier face.
And… Liz Allan. I try not to look her way. I've got way too much on my mind to focus on a pretty gal like her.
"Nothing." I raise an eyebrow as Flash says that, waiting for him to elaborate. "Just wanted to know if you'd… Urgh. Want to go to karaoke with us after school?" He looks towards the others in his group as his face cringes a bit saying that.
Waves-guy responds pretty darn quickly to that. "It was your idea Flash, I ain't helping and Gwen most certainly isn't." He says with a matter of fact tone.
Though next to them I see Gwen get offended, an angry tone in her voice as her face sneers even further. Flash really knows how to pick the most annoying-looking people huh? "And what does that mean?"
Ugly is surprised by that, taking a small step back as he holds his hands up in front of him to perhaps hide himself from Gwen. "You're uh… You?"
"U-Um, let's not fight shall we?" With Gwen looking to lash out at any moment, her face getting closer to Ugly with a death stare towards him, Liz speaks, standing between the two of them before any altercation could possibly happen. A nervous smile on her beautiful face, the skin on her hands is smooth as I see it resting at the end of my table, her nails as smooth as-get a grip Parker!
"I…" I struggle to begin. At this point I can't handle so many people all at once with their own separate dynamics and stupid talks. "Just go away. I don't want to deal with kids like you all."
I regret saying that the moment it comes out of my mouth. Not because I particularly care about most of them, but rather the fact that I also accidentally included Liz in that mix. All of their faces pissed off or offended in an instant.
Gwen's the first to run her mouth, a tone of restrained anger evident in it. "You know what Flash? You were right about him! Sorry we doubted your judgment. As for you Peter? Goodbye." A swivel of her body as she turns to the door, and with a slam as they slide it open with force, taking no time to wait for the others as she's already out and gone. Ugly is gone just as quickly too, taking no time to say a single thing to me.
That just leaves Flash and Liz, as the latter takes her turn to talk. "You never change, do you?" Something about that hurts me as she doesn't even look mad, just disappointed.
And so, the only one left is Flash. With his arms crossed, he can only really say one thing to me. "Really screwed the pooch there Peter."
"Yeah yeah, how about you screw off Captain Obvious. I don't need any sympathy from people I don't care about like you."
I close my eyes, hearing Flash walk out the classroom away from me, evidently not choosing to go with the last word this time. Stress felt within my body from that entire encounter.
Damn it. Why'd I have to say that?! I really just ruined any chance I could've had with Liz there, didn't I?
—
Now home after school and… An expensive shopping trip with the cash Jameson gave me, I lay on my bed more frustrated than ever.
Tch. If only I could show off my powers, I could kick Flash's sorry hide to tomorrow.
I still don't know what to think of Jameson though. But hey, if a guy like that can see my potential, then he can't be too bad of a person to deal with.
Feeling my stomach rumble, I get off my bed and towards the door, ready to open it until I hear something.
"Next week? I-yes… I will have the money by then…"
Opening the door ever so slowly so that I can't be heard, I walk with a sneak to my step, eventually to the stairs where I look down and see Aunt May on the phone hunched over on the sofa. With more apologies coming her way she eventually finishes the call, putting the phone to her side as she covers her face with both her hands.
…It's the rent. The obvious doesn't need to be stated, but this soon? We barely just got done with the funeral!
It doesn't take long for her to take her hands away from her face, turning on the TV to some random news station. That's the exact moment I decide to finally go down to greet her.
As she hears me go down the steps she turns her head from the sofa she's on, giving me a smile as if everything before didn't happen. No sign of grief or hardship on her expression.
"Oh, Peter? Come and sit here!" She shouts, patting the empty space on the sofa next to her. I oblige, trying not to show on my face that I know anything about what just happened earlier.
As I do, a silence is shared between us as we watch the news, still the same on speculations of Sir Nighteye. How haven't they moved on from that already?
"...you know, Ben always wanted to be a hero."
I turn my head as I look at her, a surprised expression on my face. "Huh?" That's the first I've ever heard of this.
She looks back, a reminiscing smile on her face. "He wasn't always the gentle person you knew him as, back when we were in high-school he'd pick a fight with anyone who'd insult me or him. He was a brawler, open cuts and bruises everywhere on him from head to toe, no matter who he was up against he fought them all the same, quirk or no quirk. Always admired heroes who'd face the odds despite how tough it might be. He knew realistically he couldn't ever be a hero though, so he set his sights to being a cop."
May rests a palm on her cheek as I intensely listen in more. "In the end… It was me who stopped him from ever trying to reach that goal for himself. Not from anything I told him, but rather that stubborn, wonderful man could never bear the thought of himself dying and leaving me behind."
…and yet, that's what happened anyway. All because of me.
"Why are you telling me this now?" I ask.
And with a small smile to her, she replies back. "Because I saw how you acted all throughout these past few weeks. And at the funeral too. I just wanted to give you one more happy memory to think about Ben, rather than focusing on the bad stuff. And Peter? There's no need to worry about me, just keep on doing what you want to do. I shouldn't tie you down like I did to Ben."
Fuck. This is hard. It's just way too hard to keep a straight face here. Damn it.
"Yeah, I will." I lied.
Suddenly, my attention is grabbed by the TV, talking about something new for a change.
"Multiple banks and local shops have been targeted by The Vulture, who has been leaving notes everywhere on his villainous deeds, a glory hound villain who has stolen money and seemingly nobody has been able to capture yet. Nobody has gotten a good picture of the Vulture's face either, but by all accounts from various sources he's a bald man in his 60's or beyond, with some quirk that allows him to fly and green support device wings. Please call the police immediately if you see this man."
Now that is something I can take a pic of.
—
Costume? Check.
New web wings? Check.
Making sure my phone is safely zipped up within my costume so I don't miss any calls? Check.
Web shooters? Check.
A new fancy camera just freshly bought? Check.
I think that's about it.
Today is the third day in a row that I'm trying to find that Vulture villain. Turns out crime happens a lot less often than I'd expect, no villains at all on the first and second day despite being out for hours on end. Shit, I've gotta do this soon. I can't expect to keep going and patrolling the cities if I can't even get a single bit of cash for it. The webbing costs like hell to get the supplies for, let alone all the rent troubles me and May are going through.
Seriously, how hard can it be to find an old flying maniac with wings!?
With each thwip of my webs I can only feel the stress pile more and more on top of me.
From the corner of my eye I finally see something, some green within my vision on top of a roof. And… Is that a comically-sized bag of money? Seriously?
This is definitely the guy then, before I make my entrance I set up my camera and stick it to the side of a building with my webs. After that I thwip towards them with no stealth to my part, wanting to make a flashy entrance. Oh hey, speaking of flashy, maybe I should make a flashlight signal for myself, that'd be rad.
I land in front of them as they take a step back in shock before calming down and sizing me up. "I ain't got time for a brat like you, scram before the might of The Vulture!" An ego for size too, and god they weren't lying about his age, the hell is someone's grandpa doing crime out here? He should be in a retirement home from the wrinkles on his pale face.
"Just your Friendly Neighbourhood Spider-Man to take you down a notch Featherhead."
