So... if anyone is still reading this, they would have noticed that yesterdays update was actually just the last chapter re-posted again for the second time, repetitively.

Whoops!

Anyway, I didn't notice until way too late, so I couldn't fix it until just now. But rest assured, the new chaper does exist... in fact, there it is, right down there! Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 57

The Dirt

She used to be someone around here. She used to be queen.

But now, the reality of how far her star had fallen was driven into her by the fact that someone had the audacity to be pulling into her parking spot. True, on paper there weren't any designated spots in student parking, but there are unwritten rules. The school queen gets the best spot and you just didn't park in it.

So one could imagine her irritation when a candy-apple red Miata pulled into the bespoke spot, just as Brandy Bristow was making the turn into the lane. Teeth gritted in annoyance, she continued to slowly drive her Porsche , making sure to take note of the river as soon as they exited the-

Oh, you have got to be kidding me, she thought as she registered the driver's identity. She knew it as soon as she saw that cheap butterfly clip that she wore in her hair. No one, no one in their social strata would wear anything that tacky, except her.

Rhonda Wellington Lloyd. The bane of her existence.

It utterly baffled her. HOW was she more popular? It made no sense. She barely made an effort to keep up with high society; she hung out with the most motley collection of riff-raff ever conceived; she became a football player instead of dating one; the person she was dating was a bug-obsessed gamer girl… She did everything wrong, and yet she won. And now… she had claimed the spot.

Brandy glared as she got out of the car with a couple of her friends, the blond one and the punk chick, oblivious to the faux pas she had committed. Though, was it really? The fact was, Brandy simply wasn't the school queen any more. Rhonda was now, by default, even if she didn't really care.

What's worse, Brandy's efforts to find some way, any way, to stop her ascension had only led to her suffering that worst of fates; She'd been cancelled. Sure, she'd heard people say "that's not really a thing," but after everyone had seen her confronting Rhonda's girlfriend, her actions had been judged very harshly given certain realities of the situation, of note, a wealthy, privileged white girl haughtily demanding that a girl of mixed ancestry, not to mention being of significantly lower economic status and openly gay on top of that. The omnipresent force that was social media had spoken; Brandy Bristow was essentially over and nobody wanted to be seen with her. Her boyfriend had even dumped her; sure he tried to excuse it by saying she wasn't "supportive" or whatever but that was his job! Brandy's was to make him look good.

Nevertheless, while some would take this as a sign that maybe it was time to look inward and improve oneself, Brandy was heedless of such calls to self-examination. Instead, she was more determined than ever to destroy Rhonda Lloyd, but now Nadine Robinson shared an equal position on her revenge list. Her rent-a-weasel had stumbled onto evidence, or so he claimed, that Rhonda's girlfriend was cheating on her with that superhero Joule, crazy as it may seem. And while confronting her hadn't gotten hadn't anywhere, she remained certain that it was an avenue to continue pursuing.

Maybe it was time to get her own hands dirty…

The rise of superhuman activity across the globe had led to an entirely new industry… superhero tourism. For the right price, a curious individual could tour locations where superheroic activity had been recorded, take selfies with those who claimed to have been rescued by them, or even purchase genuine souvenirs of their cases (though the authenticity of such items was of dubious quality; more than a few customers of an Amity Park-based site selling "genuine Danny Phantom ectoplasm" had found themselves the proud owners of a baggie of melted lime jello).

The holy grail of superhero tourism was, of course, getting to see a superhero live and in person, easier said than done outside of the occasional charity event. There were services to cater to those fans, too, including the "SuperSpotter" app: for a mere $1.99 (or free for the ad-supported version), you could be immediately alerted to any superhero sightings in your area. You could search by location and hero to find the most likely places for a sighting, a candid photo… maybe even a selfie if the hero was feeling particularly gregarious that day. Joule was known to be one of the more social superheroes, often doing public appearances for charity and more than happy to pose with fans.

Her identity concealed by a black wig, snow hat, scarf and sunglasses, Brandy was now approaching a particular neighborhood where Joule had been spotted several times in recent days. The area was one of the city's poorer ones, distinguished by a high crime rate, a homeless shelter where Rhonda (speak of the Devil in Prada) and Wolfgang were known to volunteer and a Burpin' Burger where Nadine worked.

Now, if this particular scheme worked out, she would definitely attract some attention. Unfortunately, she had once again been forced to swallow her pride and depend on Mickey the Weasel for help engineering the scheme, fortunately for her Mickey was not one given to excessive pride. He knew exactly what he was.

Across from the Burpin' Burger, in an alleyway, Brandy took a vantage point behind a big pile of empty boxes, where she would be able to see everything through the gaps in the pile without being seen herself. There, she waited until Nadine exited the restaurant. The show was about to begin.

The girl began the trek to the bus stop at the far end of the block, opposite from her own, when several men in hoodies and masks piled out of the alley opposite of Brandy's and surrounded her. Looks like Mickey got a bunch of his friends from the drama club to help out. Maybe he is worth what I'm paying him, Brandy considered.

"Hey, baby, where you going," one of them asked in a smarmy voice. Talk about B-movie dialogue… nobody would buy this. Then again, she wasn't shooting for an Oscar here. Just bait.

"Home," replied Nadine calmly. Brandy sensed this wasn't the first time she'd been in a situation like this.

"What's the hurry, Goldilocks?" another said. "I was thinking we'd have some fun…"

"One, seventeen, two, gay, and three, not interested regardless," Nadine retorted, attempting to squirm past the quartet. One grabbed her wrist.

"Nobody walks away from u-" he started, before Nadine delivered a knee to his crotch. Ugh, he's probably gonna want hazard pay now, thought Brandy. Nadine took advantage of her new opening to try and get away, but the downed "thug" tripped him and she went down. Another hauled her to her feet. "You're gonna pay for that," he sneered.

Something was starting to feel off about this. Mickey and his pals were getting a little too into their roles, and Brandy was feeling a little sour about the whole thing. Nadine actually looked like she'd been hurt hurt. Nobody was supposed to get hurt hurt.

In fact, she was considering texting Mickey to call off the whole thing when she felt something furry rub up against her ankles. Then something else furry. Then a third, fourth, and fifth thing. With the grim realization of someone who looks into a bad labeled "Dead dove, do not eat" she looked down, knowing exactly what she was going to see but dreading it all the same.

Indeed, she was not alone in the alley; she was sharing her space with several dozen large rats. With a scream, she plowed through the boxes and into view.

Mickey's foursome immediately spotted the distraction. Not that it was hard; Brandy Britow was one heck of a screamer. "Hey!" one said. "Grab 'er! Don't let her call the cops!"

Brandy had had enough of this at this point. "Forget it, Pauly," she said, using their agreed-upon codename; hers was Hennessey. "She isn't coming. This was all a waste of time."

"I don't know what you're talking about," the man said. They pretty much looked interchangeable, save for the color of their hoodies. This was Brown Hoodie talking. Green Hoodie had been the one who caught Nadine's knee to the groin, and Purple Hoodie had been the one to initiate the encounter. The remaining one, Red Hoodie, hadn't spoken yet. Brandy assumed he was Mickey's alter ego, since none of the others sounded anything like him.

Brandy addressed him now, directly. "You can cut the act. Don't worry, you'll get your money, but this is turning out to be more trouble than it's worth."

"Seriously, doll, I got no idea what you're talking about." Red Hoodie said in a voice nothing like Mickey's. Maybe he's acting, Brandy reasoned.

"Okay, okay, I get it, you have to commit to the bit," she said, "but seriously, I'm calling it-" Her text alert went off. "Hold on, let me check this." She checked her phone.

Sorry. Running late. Don't start without me. -Pauly

She slowly looked up from her phone. "Ohhhh, crap… this is real, isn't it…" she stammered.

"What do you mean, 'this is real'?" Nadine asked suspiciously.

"Shut it, Goldie," Green hoodie said in a slightly strained voice. "Don't think we forgot about you."

"As for you," Red Hoodie continued. "We'll be taking that phone. And whatever else we-"

"Let them go!" a voice called from above. A winged figure in crimson, navy and glowing gold highlights landed heavily.

It looked like tonight might just pay off after all.

-RHONDA-

It wasn't like I had to patrol this neighborhood every night Nadine had her shift. Nadine was a big girl. She could take care of herself.

That was a lie I liked to tell myself, anyway. Yes, yes I did have to patrol this neighborhood every time she had her shift, because I am a neurotic overprotective girlfriend and I have the compulsion to do so. I know what I'm about.

So here we are, the one night when circumstances have finally vindicated my neurosis. The very thing I had been worried about was playing out before me just as I was passing. Four creeps surrounding my girl. My girl. Also, it looked like someone else had stumbled onto the scene and had also become a target. Well, at least I could use that as an excuse that it's not entirely about me being an overprotective girlfiend.

I did my intimidating landing thing, shouted out my warning. Most of the time, with small-time guys like this, that was enough to get them to scatter. And it did work with three of them.

But every once in a while, there's one brave soul who decides that he's gonna be the guy. Out of everyone, he's gonna be the lucky one that takes out a super-strong, semi-invulnerable mutant superheroine. He takes out a baseball bat, 'cause, you know, that's the thing that's gonna do it, and takes a swing. Now I could just stand there and take it, but here's the thing; semi-inulnerability means the bat's not going to break any bones, but it's still going to hurt like hell, and I don't want that. So I catch it in midswing, and give him a "you really don't wanna try that" look. "Didn't really think this through, did you?" I remark. His courage immediately dissipates and he bolts off. I make a mental note of which way they ran, but for now the important thing is Nadine.

"Are you all right?" I asked. "Did anyone hurt you?"

"A little bit, but I hurt him more," she replies. She smiles, but I can tell she's shaken.

"That's my girl," I respond. I turn to check on the other one, but she's gone. "Huh… wasn't there someone else?"

"She must've taken off," Nadine answered, shrugging. "Funny thing, though… she acted like she thought this was staged."

I raise an eyebrow behind my visor. "Why would anyone stage an attack on you? It's not one of those trolls, is it?"

Nadine cocked her head adorably in thought. "I doubt it. Those guys are all talk. They'll send threats, but they're too cowardly to act on them."

I shake my head. "All it takes is one person crazy enough to buck the trend." I sigh. "I hate this, you. Know. I hate that you work in a terrible place like this."

She gives me a smile. "You still want me to be your 'kept woman,' huh?"

"You can't deny the benefits…"

She shakes her head. "I'm not that kind of girl. Besides… maybe sometimes I wanna be able to get my girlfriend something nice."

"Can't argue with nice things," I concede. "But-"

"Uh uh, conversation's finished."

"But-"

She gives me a peck on the cheek. "But it's really sweet that you're worried about me, Rh-" she caught herself. "Rh-andom superhero lady. Let's compromise, okay? I'll try to get switched to the day shift."

"That would be better," I agree, hefting her. "Ready to go home?"

"Don't you have to catch those guys?" she asks.

"Either I'll run into them, or the cops will. Either way, my priority is to get you home safely."

"Hmm maybe I should stick with the night shift if it means you'll come pick me up. I'd save a ton on bus fare."

"Would that really be fair to all the people who have to walk?" I tease.

"Those losers can get their own mutant girlfriends," she retorts, booping my chin

How on earth did I get this lucky?

She watches the two lift off from behind the car she had hidden behind.

She fled the second Joule had landed, as no one was paying attention to her. But she didn't leave. She wanted to see if there was anything to the weasel's report.

Well, now she had confirmation. Did she ever have confirmation. But…. Something about the whole thing was nagging at her.

She looked over the photos on her phone as she played back the conversation in her mind. The proof of Joule and Nadine Robinson's illicit rendezvous was right before her, but something about the way they spoke to each other didn't fit. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but… something was off. They way they spoke, the way they interacted…

…yes. They didn't act like they were two teens having an illicit rendezvous. They talked as if they'd known each other for years. As if they were aware of the deepest, most intimate details of each others' lives and personalities.

That was it. They acted like this was a full-on, longstanding relationship. But that made no sense.

…unless…

No. The thought of it was ridiculous. Impossible even.

But what if…

…no, it couldn't be.

And yet…

The very thought of it was absurd.

Yet still…

The more she considered the notion, the more it started to make a strange kind of sense.

What if… Rhonda and Joule… were the same person?

On the surface, it was impossible… except… what if Joule could take on a human form? What if she could walk among others unnoticed? What if she had been for years without anyone being any the wiser, until now?

Nadine had had no reaction being accused of infidelity… because she hadn't committed any. She was with the same person she had always been with.

Her phone went off again, Mickey the Weasel letting her know he was almost there. She dialed him back immediately.

"Babe, you wouldn't believe how long I've been stuck on this-" he began.

"You're fired," Brandy interrupted brusquely.

"Hey, c'mon!" he protested. "I don't control traffic!"

"I don't require your services anymore," she explained. "I have what I need. At least… I think I do."

Now the question was how she was going to use it.

A.N.: Hey everyone! Finally got back to this story after being lost in Frogtown. Hopefully *checks calendar* it hasn't been too l- SIX MONTHS?! Wow, I have really been neglecting this.

Okay, so, admission time: as you've no doubt guessed, this story really isn't my priority anymore, but I shouldn't have let my schedule slip this badly.

Veganmama: Well, I hope you're still still here after this long hiatus. I can't promise I'll be updating it as often, but I will be trying to be more regular in updating.

Jose: Cadmus was a major inspiration, yes.

Next: Leverage