There are too many lights here. Blinding lamps make me sway on my thin stems. I feel a hand reaching around me to steady me. Lex ushers me into the ballroom and past the flashing cameras. He holds up his hand in some feeble attempt at anonymity. I clasp the fabric of my skirt in my hand, not because I'm tripping over it but because I see women in movies do this all the time. I imagine for a moment in the blinding light that I'm stepping into an old romance novel, one set in the 1800s in which I run up ornate edwardian steps only to look back in joy at discovering I'm being chased by the man I love, both of us in search of a silent closet to share our indiscretions. I try to crystalize whose hands grab at me in desperation, whose eyes search mine in the darkness of this imaginary closet. I shudder to find his fingers have the same texture as those which were brushing against my skin only moments before and his eyes are unmistakably those of a Luthor.
My eyes readjust to the lighting inside the gala and I take a moment to admire my surroundings. Clearly, a good amount of money made this night possible. The museum is arranged to allow for guests to mill about glass cases holding artifacts, their value being quantified for one night and one night only for the pleasure of the insanely rich. The highest bidder of the night supposedly gets to donate said donation to a charity of their choice, the rest going to an array of good-doing foundations. Essentially, the night is a one stop shop for philanthropists to get all their tax exemptions done.
Lex sighs next to me, letting his eyes trail over each item he could probably afford ten times over. He offers me his elbow and leads me past the opening hallway and into a room filled with people with tuxedos and trust funds and everything inaccessible to the likes of me. An orchestra sits at the front of the room, playing something classical I can't place, but it sounds baroque. I hate baroque. Lex walks from one standing table to another, touching elbows and curling his lips into a smile. He looks pleasant, and everyone who talks to him seems to lean in, intent on hanging on every one of his words. I begin to notice, however, how some of those who have leaned in to hear him scoff at what he has to say. I tune in on what they're talking about.
"How's your father doing, Lex?" A woman dripping in pearls asks. Lex's shoulders tense but his smile stays put.
"Very well. I suspect he'll be here tonight, if we are lucky."
"Wow. Two Luthors in the one place? Should we be frightened?" Lex laughs but it doesn't sound genuine.
"No. Not you, at least." This he says slightly under his breath, a comment meant to be heard but politely dismissed by those around him as trivial banter.
We spend most of our time milling about and having similar conversations. With every mention of Lex's father, his jaw tightens a bit more and his shoulders rise a centimeter. By the end of the night I suspect I won't be able to see his neck anymore and he'll have to fix a few teeth. I scan the room for something remotely interesting, but don't find anything. As I'm searching I hear a loud laugh coming from directly behind Lex and me. I turn to see a man in a dazzlingly expensive suit walk toward us, his hair brushing his shoulders as he walks. He's speaking with a man slightly shorter than him, but he never lets his head dip to his friend's level. He moves toward us at increasing speed and stops behind Lex, who stays stubbornly facing away. The man looks irritated but unperturbed. He claps a hand down on Lex's shoulder, forcing him to turn.
"Lex! Nice to see you here." He smiles broadly, though his face holds very little warmth. Lex turns slowly, plastering a similar smile on his face. Lex isn't as good at it, though.
"Dad. Always a pleasure." The man wraps his arm around Lex's shoulders and pulls him into his side, looking to the other people who were previously in conversation, now gawking at the two men.
"How good to see all of you here for such a good cause." I look at him closely, starting to comprehend what Lex just said. This is his dad. And I start to recognize that smile, those perfect teeth, and chin length curls. This is Linus Luthor, the dominating figure of Luthor Corp. I've been seeing his image on TV screens for so long I barely recognize him when he's flesh and blood. His face is more wrinkled than it was when I watched him as a kid, and the years of sun have turned his cheeks into a leathery texture. He looks at me as I study him. Though his skin may betray his age, his eyes are filled with the energy of someone much younger.
"So. You must be the new assistant. Miss…?" All at once I realize I'm gawking just like the others and have to work to contain myself.
"Sarah Vanderhaul."
"Right. Do you drink, Sarah?"
"Not while working, I think." I look to Lex to see if this was the right answer. He seems to be stifling a smile.
"You're welcome to drink if you wish." He beckons me towards the bar only for his father to step in.
"Allow me." Linus offers his arm to me. I hesitantly accept, wrapping my hand around the crook of his arm. My legs tremble as I try to keep pace with his self assured stride. "I hear there has been…talk. Of you and Lex."
"That? Oh, no. No. That's nothing. That's just- well, nothing. Just some tabloid reporters who don't really care about the facts." He chuckles but doesn't seem convinced.
"Well, I should hope it's nothing. Because that's really the last thing we need right now."
"What's that?"
"People seeing him with yet another harlot." I can't walk anymore. I am happy to find we are at the bar, both because it means I don't need to find an excuse for my abrupt stop and because I find I now desperately need a drink. I didn't even know people still use words like harlot. Slut, maybe, if you are particularly sexist. But harlot seems a word for something so archaic; it feels so removed from our own time and space I almost don't feel offended. Almost.
"Right, of course." He nods.
"I'm glad you understand."
"I understand. Though I think it is utterly ridiculous."
"Excuse me?"
"Shouldn't you be having this discussion with your son? I mean, if you are so concerned, maybe consult the habitual offender rather than blame his sexual exploits on women who had no obligation to you or your family or Lex, for that matter. They don't deserve to be demeaned by some self righteous prick." I say. At least, that's what I want to say. But this man could destroy me in an instant, and I may be somewhat stupid but not that stupid. Instead, I stammer out meekly, "You have nothing to worry about. Lex is doing very well, and neither he nor I will let anything get in the way of that."
"Perfect." Linus smiles and for a second he looks relieved. When we get back to the group, Lex gives me a look, one which seems to probe every inch of me, searching for something to tell him what we were talking about. I give him a small smile, as if to say I'll tell him later. I probably won't.
"Well, I think it's time to move on. I would like to say hi to a few more of our acquaintances before the auction starts." Lex interrupts a man mid sentence. He holds out his arm for me and I accept. When we are far enough away he hisses in my ear. "What was all that about?" I shrug, because I haven't decided whether or not to tell Lex about it. He turns me towards him with his hands on either arm, forcing me to look him in the eye. "Don't do that. What did he say to you?"
"It was nothing. He asked me how it was going at my job."
"And?"
"And what?"
Lex begins to squeeze my arms, eyes becoming wild as I deny him what he wants to hear. "I know my father and I know he said more to you. Not to mention you're not a very talented actor. I can tell he said something to upset you. It's written all over your face."
"Lex, stop it. That hurts." For a moment, he doesn't. He keeps applying pressure until the look begins to fade from his eyes, overtaken by a glimmer of guilt. He eases me out of his grip and stands back.
I can't be near him. The thought springs upon me suddenly and I can't breathe without the little needles prickling across the inside of my lungs. I start to turn but Lex grabs me.
"Please, Sarah. Don't go."
My skin is burning where his hand is. I imagine hurting him to get him off, of suddenly being endowed with enough strength to twist his hand and hear a snap.
I hear someone scream and for a moment, I think that dream, so vivid in its conception, was in fact reality. That someone is screaming in horror at the mangled mess I have left in my awakening as the new she-hulk. But my skin is still burning where Lex's hand lays. His perfectly normal hand, with skin unsplit.
People are rushing towards the hallway filled with artifacts, towards the direction where the scream came from. Lex and I move toward the sound, his hand still on my arm. He pushes past the others. Some ignore him at first but quickly step aside when they come to realize who he is. Out in the hallway, a man is trying to smash through the display case of a bejeweled crown. He pounds at the glass, eventually staining it with blood from his knuckles. He continues to beat at the case, letting out a deafening roar. Eventually, he decides his fists aren't enough and begins to beat at the glass with his forehead, letting out a scream as his skin splits along the glass. Lex tries to step forward, but I hold him back.
"What are you doing?"
"Stay here, I'll find you when I'm done." He surges forward, yelling at the man. Without Lex, I'm swallowed by the crowd. The bustling turns to confused shuffling as I reach the back of the crowd. Someone shouts and waves their arms at the front of the crowd, their voice seemingly cheery despite the horror going on in front of them. The lady in front of me turns to her right to whisper in her husband's ear; "What's going on?"
Her husband turns and in a much harder to hear voice replies "Something just flashed past and snatched up the man."
I can't help pushing forward to ask "Are they fighting?"
The man turns to me, clearly upset I would eavesdrop. To be fair, it was quite rude of me. "No, they're gone. No one knows where." As if to answer, the whole crowd begins to shift towards the exit to look for the mysterious blur and the man crazy enough to bang his head against reinforced glass.
I follow the surge of the crowd and keep my eyes peeled for Lex. I scan the room as we move. Only, Lex isn't there. When we spill onto the pavement outside, sirens blair as cops direct us towards a blocked off area of the street.
Someone's hand is on my back, guiding me away. I snap my head up, only to see those leathery cheeks again. Linus Luthor is guiding me towards the street, heading towards a car with tinted windows. "Where's Lex?" I ask. But Linus just deposits me in the back of the car, speaking quietly to the man with an earpiece next to him. The man nods and takes his place in the front seat. "Mr. Luthor?" Linus pauses to lean down into the car.
"Lex is fine. Please, let Jason take you home and we'll contact you as soon as we have news." I try to tell him I won't leave until I see Lex, but the car door is slammed in my face and we are hurtling down the freeway at 70 mph.