Chapter 06 - The Phantom of the Opera

"Nothing says school spirit like a ring that looks like it was jacked from P. Diddy," Chloe says, examining her class ring. Zoey frowns as she looks at her own ring. It wasn't necessary her taste. Their sophomore year had gotten off to a normal start for Smallville. Clark had developed a new power, heat vision, and Zoey had been grossed out to know what caused it. Lex had a quick marriage caused by their former biology teacher, Miss Atkins. Pete had discovered Clark's spaceship and learned his secret.

"I think it looks great, Chloe," Clark argues.

"Yeah, I think we'll be lucky if the glue holds through graduation. I wonder if the ruby's even real," Chloe tells them, then heads down the hallway.

Zoey shrugs. "It's okay. It's not something I would wear every day." She raises an eyebrow as Clark moves up in the line to the table to pick up his ring. "You're really doing this?"

"I'm here, aren't I?" Zoey and Pete exchange a look. "What?"

"If I correctly recall, Uncle Jonathan's exact words were '$350 is a lot of money to spend on something you really don't need.'"

"I earned that money. Besides, dad said that it was my decision to make. And he didn't say anything about you getting one."

"I didn't mention that I was getting one."

"And what your dad really means, Clark is that you're really not supposed to buy it," Pete points out.

Clark shrugs and hands over his money and order. The person at the table hands him a ring box. He pulls out the ring and immediately it puts it on. Zoey places at Pete. It was as if something had quickly changed within Clark.

"Clark, are you okay," Zoey asks.

"Yeah, I feel great," Clark answers. Zoey follows his gaze and rolls her eyes. Next to Lana was the new girl, who wore a see-through crop top with a dark red bra and black jeans.

"Excuse me," Mr. Gibbons, the vice-principal, calls, walking up to them. "It's Jessie, isn't it? Perhaps Miss Lang didn't tell you, but there's a dress code here at Smallville High."

"Lame and lamer," Jessie mockingly answers. Clark laughs and Zoey raises an eyebrow. He was all about following the rules.

Mr. Gibbons shoots Clark a glare. "You think that's funny, Mr. Kent?"

"By the way, I'm not changing," Jessie states.

"Well, perhaps you'd like to discuss your attitude in my office."

"Excuse me, Mr. Gibbons," Clark calls. "I think she looks really hot. And I think that your dress code…sucks."

Mr. Gibbons stares at Clark. "Excuse me?"

"I mean, come on, it's her first day. Cut her some slack. Besides, I don't think you should be the one giving fashion tips."

Mr. Gibbons turns to Jessie. "Tomorrow, young lady, proper attire or you're going straight home."

Lana forces a smile. "I guess we can finish our tour later," she says, then walks off with Jessie.

"Whoa," Pete says, staring at Clark. "Where did that come from?"

"I don't know," Clark answers with a smile. "But I think I liked it."

Zoey walks down the stairs. She clutched her Blackberry in her right hand. "Um, Uncle Max just got called me. He wanted to know why I spent ten thousand dollars at Discount Eddie's electronics last night in Metropolis," she tells her godparents. Jonathan and Martha exchange a worried look. Suddenly, loud music blares from outside.

They follow the music to the barn. Zoey stares at the jet ski. There were numerous boxes scattered around the barn. She follows Martha and Jonathan up the stairs. Clark was sitting in front of a large flat-screen TV, playing a video game. Along with the different electronics around the loft, were numerous items of expensive clothes. "Clark," Jonathan shouts, grabbing the remote off a nearby speaker. Instead of turning down the music, he turns it up. Clark grabs the remote from his father and turns it off. "Clark, where did you get all this stuff?"

"Discount Eddie's in Metropolis," Clark answers. "Open all night."

"We can't afford all this...stuff," Martha says, looking around.

"Zoey can," Clark argues. "It's just a drop in the bucket for her."

"You stole my credit card and went on a shopping spree, Clark," Zoey snaps.

"You can afford it. You're richer than Lex."

Jonathan tenses. "Clark, you're going to take all this stuff back."

"I don't understand how we have money troubles when all we have to do is ask Zoey. Hell, she's Miss moneybags. With one phone call, she can take care of all of our problems. Why is she even living with us if you're not going to take advantage of that?"

Zoey stares at him. She walks out of the barn. "Zoey," Martha shouts, running after her. "Zoey, I'm sure Clark didn't—"

"I need to finish getting ready. I don't want to miss the bus," Zoey interrupts, walking up the stairs. She enters her bedroom and closes the door with a soft thud. She leans against it and bites her lip to keep the sob from coming out.

"Pete! Zoey," Chloe calls out, causing them to walk into the Torch's office. Pete had been checking on Clark by talking with Zoey. She, however, had been avoiding Clark since he had stolen her credit card. "You are not going to believe what I found out! Our El Cheapo class rings are in fact, fake."

Zoey forces a smile. "That's not exactly surprising, Chloe."

"Chloe, there's something wrong with Clark," Pete tells the blonde reporter.

Chloe frowns. Zoey picks up a rock that was sitting on top of a pile of paper. "More than usual?"

"Last night at the Talon, the motorcycle…other stuff."

"What kind of other stuff?"

"The kind that has Mr. and Mrs. Kent calling my house. They're really worried. It's like they think he's on drugs or something."

Zoey nods. "Yeah, somethings really up with Clark."

"Clark would have to be on drugs to be on drugs. Uh, just be careful with that."

Zoey shoots her a curious look. "What is it?"

"My expose," Chloe answers. She holds out her hand with her class ring on it. "See this lovely $350 piece of school spirit? It's a rip-off. The jewelry company was substituting worthless meteor rocks for rubies to save money."

"Meteor rocks are green, not red."

"Not the load they found near Hobbes Pond. Note the red vein. You guys can read all about it on page one of today's Torch."

Pete takes off out of the office. Chloe turns to Zoey and she shrugs. "Beats me."

Clark knocks on the door of Zoey's bedroom. She was sitting at her desk, working on biology homework. "How goes your apology tour," she asks without looking up. Even after learning that he was essentially on the Clark Kent version of drugs, Zoey had still avoided him until Jonathan with the help of Pete had managed to destroy Clark's class ring.

"Uh, good. Look, Zoey, the things I said...I'm sorry. I didn't mean any of it," Clark replies, shoving his hands in his jeans pockets.

Zoey turns to him. "Clark, we both know that you did. Those feelings didn't just magically appear because of red meteor rock."

Clark sighs. "You're right. I don't like that we have money troubles and you don't."

Zoey bites her lip. She looks at a picture of her, Oliver, her parents, and Max. It was taken a couple of months before her parents died. They had rented a house in Aspen for the holidays. "Clark, I would give all the money up to have my mom and dad here."

Clark shifts. He knew that Zoey would do anything to have her parents alive and well. He also knew that it was part of the reason why she was so close to Max. "I returned all the stuff that I brought."

Zoey shrugs. "It's fine."

"Max isn't going—"

"Uncle Max thought it was hilarious. He says next you go on a drunk shopping spree, then at least let him know."

Zoey sighs as walks through the woods to the graveyard. Things had been tense in the Kent household ever since Clark's adventure with red meteor rock. She stops at the headstone with the name Jackson York written on it. She had found the grave of her grandfather a couple of years earlier while researching her father's family for a school project. Her parents, Shannon and Matthew, were buried in the Carmichael family crypt just outside of Star City. She finds an envelope sitting on top of the headstone. She cautiously takes it off and sees her name elegantly scrawled on it. Then leaves rustle. She turns to look but doesn't find anyone there. She examines the envelope and finds it sealed with wax.

The next morning at school, Zoey explains the letter and finding it to Chloe and Lana. "Ah, the sentiment's nice. But the fact that found this in a graveyard seems a little Amityville," Chloe tells her as they walk down the hallways.

"I think it's kind of romantic," Lana counters. "I haven't had a love letter since third grade. It seems like a lost art."

Zoey frowns. "I've never gotten a love letter. Am I missing out on something?"

"Believe me, you're not missing out. This morning in trig, I intercepted a note from a wrestler to a cheerleader. It wasn't exactly poetic, but, um, he defiantly got his point across," Chloe says. "Who do you think wrote it?"

"No idea," Zoey replies, taking the letter back. They walk into the Torch's office and the girls sit down on the couch. "If you take away the whole found it in a cemetery, then it is a little romantic."

"Hey, guys," Clark greets, walking into the Torch office with Pete. "What's going on?"

Chloe smirks. "Zoey has a secret admirer."

Zoey rolls her eyes. The last thing she wanted was for Clark to know about it. "It's nothing."

"What do you mean nothing? What happened to romantic," Chloe argues, taking the letter and handing it to Clark.

Clark frowns as he reads over the letter. "It's a little mushy."

Lana laughs. "Clark Kent, the man of steel."

Zoey stands up and grabs the letter. "I have to go," she mutters and quickly makes her way out of the Torch's office. The last thing she wanted to discuss with Clark was anything related to her love life.

Zoey rolls her eyes when she walks between the counter and sees Lex holding up the poem. News of the letter had quickly spread around town. "It's a little personal," she tells him, then sets about making his usual order. "But you are more than welcome to read it. Just as long as you don't agree with Clark. He thinks it a little sappy."

Lex chuckles. "The, uh, imagery is a little naive, but the meter's actually quite sophisticated. Who wrote this?"

"I have no idea. But depending on who you ask, it's either an admirer or a psychopath."

He shoots her a concerned look. "That had a little venom to it. Everything all right?"

Zoey sighs. "I'm just tired of everyone giving me crap over the poem."

"Take me to you, imprison me, for I never shall be free, nor ever chaste, except you ravish me," Lex recites.

Zoey smiles. "John Donne. One of my favorites."

Lex smirks. "If I didn't know better, I'd say I found your Achille's heel."

Zoey laughs. "I didn't realize you were into poetry."

"Anyone who doesn't appreciate poetry doesn't understand that it's all about seduction." Lex hands the poem back to her. "Could it be from a certain brooding teenager I saw with you last summer?"

A light blush appears on Zoey's face. "It's not his handwriting. Besides, leaving it in a cemetery isn't exactly his style."

A throat clears and they turn to see Clark. He shifts. "Zoey, I know things aren't so great between us right now, but I want to apologize for ragging on the poem."

Zoey waves a hand. "It's fine, Clark. Poetry's not for everyone."

"Don't you think it's weird," Clark asks. "This guy's sneaking around watching you."

Zoey raises an eyebrow. "First of all, Clark, trying to play the overprotective big brother role will not work because I'm older than you. And it's no worse than paparazzi following me."

A concerned look crosses Clark's face. "Zoey—"

"Hey, why don't we talk about how much Lex hates having his dad as a roommate," Zoey deflects, shooting a smirk at Lex. Another thing she didn't find ideal to share with Clark: photographers in Star City capturing moments that she felt were intimate.

That night, Zoey finds herself back in the cemetery, waiting to see if the mysterious admirer makes an appearance. She sits down at her grandfather's grave and pulls out a thermos of coca she had made at the Talon earlier during her shift. "I'm insane," she mutters, glancing at her watch. It was nearly one in the morning and there had been no sign. She pulls her pea coat close as she fights off a yawn. Footsteps crunch on leaves. She turns. There in the shadows of the moonlight was a tall man. He wore a white loose shirt. He takes off and she quickly goes after. "I got your poem," she shouts, hoping that he would stop. "It was...amazing."

He stops. She could see that he had long dark hair. And he wore a checkered scarf. He looks at her, shyly. "You really think so?"

"Yes." Zoey walks towards him. She notices another envelope on the ground and picks it up. Her name is elegantly written on it. "What's your name?"

"Byron."

Zoey smiles, moving closer to him. "Like the poet."

"Like my great uncle. But there's nothing poetic about him."

Zoey glances down at the envelope in her hands. "Why do you leave these poems for me?"

"Because you inspire me," Byron softly answers. She could see his dark brown eyes. Zoey pulls a flashlight from her pocket and turns it on. She starts to search through her pockets, but he hits the flashlight out of her hand. "No. Don't."

"Get away from her!"

Zoey turns to see Clark running towards them. "What the fuck are you doing here," she snaps. Byron takes off running, but trips over a headstone and falls to the ground. "Byron, are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine," Byron answers. Byron touches the back of his head. He pulls his hand away to reveal blood. Then he passes out.

"We should get him somewhere safe," Zoey says, standing up. "Let's take him to the Talon. It's at least more comfortable there."

"I can't believe I passed out," Byron says, finishing a bite of chocolate cake. Once they had made it back to the Talon, Byron had woken up. Zoey had made up an ice pack and gotten him a piece of cake while Clark just silently watched.

"I'm sorry I scared you," Clark says.

"It's okay, Clark. You were protecting a beautiful young lady. It was chivalrous. You're lucky to have a boyfriend who cares so much about you."

"No, no, no, no, no," Zoey laughs, shaking her head. "No. No. Clark is like my annoying younger brother. He tries to be the overprotective brother type. But no. I don't have a boyfriend."

"If I could write the beauty of your eyes and number all your graces the age to come would say this poet lies. Such heavenly touches ne'er touched earthy faces."

Zoey smiles. "That was beautiful." Byron shoots her a shy, thankful smile.

Clark, who had resisted at rolling his eyes, looks at Byron. "Which poet wrote that?"

Byron glances at him. "Shakespeare."

"So, you're homeschooled," Zoey says, shooting him another smile. "That's something that I can't imagine doing. Or the fact that you don't get to hang out with anyone."

Byron shrugs. "You don't miss what you never had."

Clark notices the scars around Byron's wrists. "Sounds like you don't get out much. Uh, are your parents pretty strict?"

"They only want what's best for me."

Zoey frowns when she hears a vehicle outside. "Fuck. That's the milk delivery. It always gets here super early."

A startled look appears on Byron's face. "What time is it?"

"Quarter to five," Clark answers, glancing at his watch.

"If my parents wake up…" Byron trails off as he runs out of the Talon.

"Wait, Byron, we'll give you a ride," Zoey tells him, running after him. Byron looks between her and Clark, who nods in agreement. "You'll get home a lot faster." Byron nods and the three of them climb into the Kent's red pickup truck.

The drive is silent with Byron giving directions every once in a while. They pull up to a house and Zoey raises an eyebrow. It appeared to be in decent shape, but the 'no trespassing' and 'keep out' signs caused Zoey and Clark to exchange a concerned look. "Do you want us to come in and tell your parents what happened," Clark asks.

"No, I'll be fine," Byron says and runs out of the truck. They watch as he runs up to the house. His mother was wearing a bathrobe, ushering him inside. Byron's dad walks out, carrying a shotgun.

Zoey climbs out of the truck and runs up to the house, knowing that Clark was right behind her. "Byron," she calls out. They reach the porch as Byron's mother ushers him into the house.

Byron's father aims the shotgun at them. "I'd better not catch you around my son again," he warns. "Now, get out before I shoot you for trespassing." Clark grabs Zoey's arm and leads her back to the truck.

"Clark, we have to do something," Zoey tells him, climbing into the truck.

Clark puts the truck into reverse and backs out of the driveway. "We'll talk to dad. He'll know what to do."

Jonathan's idea was to call the sheriff and pay a visit to the Moore house. The visit hadn't gone well. Byron's parents had claimed that he was dead and had accused Zoey and Clark of playing a cruel practical joke on them. Ethan, the sheriff and a long-time friend of Jonathan's, had been convinced to get a search warrant. Zoey and Clark had gone to Chloe to see if she could help dig up information on Byron. "It looks like your tortured artist is an unfortunate member of the dead poets' society," Chloe says, grabbing the death certificate she had printed out. "The certificate of death was signed by Dr. Emil Jenkins."

Zoey takes the paper. "This has to be fake. If Byron is dead, then we're all dead."

"Not that I don't trust your judgment, Zoey, but could it be possible that goth boy maybe is—"

"A fucking ghost couldn't finish three pieces of chocolate cake and two cappuccinos," she interrupts.

Chloe smiles. "I like this new Zoey. She needs to say around and help me annoy Clark by swearing too much. Anyway, I was just checking. I mean, this is Smallville. Well, I ran Dr. Jenkins' name through the computer and found out something very interesting." Chloe stands up and walks over to a different to grab her bag. "Eight years ago, he supervised a medical trial over at Metron Pharmaceuticals."

"Let me guess, Byron was a participant," Clark asks.

"Yeah, they were all kids who had exhibited antisocial behavior."

Zoey frowns as they walk out of the Torch's office. "Byron is way too sweet."

"Could it be that our new Shakespeare has stirred the heart of our young Juliet?"

"It's nice to meet someone here," Zoey argues. "Anyway, I think we should go look for Byron."

Clark shakes his head. "No, we should wait to see what the sheriff finds."

Clark, of course, didn't listen to the advice he had given Zoey. He and Pete had gone over to the Moore house to search for Byron. Clark, in wanting to help Byron, had actually learned Byron's secret. The experiments that were conducted on him as a kid caused him to grow strong when sunlight hit him. His face would change and scars appeared down his back. Pete received a broken arm after Byron had thrown him into a car windshield. Zoey had learned all of this after visiting Pete in the hospital.

Clark walks into the Talon to find Zoey behind the counter, organizing the pastry display. "Zoey—"

"You know, I visited Pete earlier," Zoey snaps. "Thanks for telling me. Byron's my friend and you didn't even tell me what you were doing. I wanted to help."

"I didn't want you to get hurt," Clark argues.

"Oh, so, Pete can hurt, but not me," Zoey counters. "I am not a porcelain doll that needs to be protected."

"You haven't seen Bryon, have you?"

"No."

"Okay, so I think I figured out why our would-be Shakespeare went all pro wrestler on you," Chloe says, walking up to them with a file in her hand.

"What did you find," Zoey asks while Clark takes the file.

"Um, well, the drug that Byron was given during the medical trials targeted his adrenal system."

"It says here they were looking for a cure," Clark summarizes. "We need to track down the company."

"It's too late, Metron Pharmaceuticals was shut down before they even finished their research."

"I know where I've heard that name before," Zoey suddenly says. "It's own by LuthorCorp." She grabs her peacoat and Clark's arm. "Let's go."

"Zoey—" Clark begins.

"I know where you sleep and have access to a ton of cow shit," Zoey snaps. "Do you really want to test me right now?"

Clark sighs. "Don't get too close to him. If you find him, call someone."

The first and only place that Zoey looked at was the cemetery. She figured that if Byron had a death certificate, then he probably had a grave. Her intuition is right when she finds him sitting in front of the headstones. "Bryon," Zoey softly says, walking over to him. She holds out her hands. "It's just me. Zoey. I want to help you."

Byron turns to her. He wore a long, black trench coat and black pants. His face is different. Zoey is reminded of the vampires on Buffy the Vampire Slayer. "I was down there for eight years," Byron says, standing up and walking over to her. "I'm not going back."

Zoey stares at him. "You could hurt people. And the Byron that I met, the Byron that I've gotten to know, wouldn't want that. LuthorCorp did this to you. And Clark is talking to Lex. I'm going to talk to Lex too. They can find a cure."

"There is no cure," Byron argues, grabbing her arms.

"Byron, let go of me."

"I want you." Zoey pulls out of his grasp. "They made me into someone no one can love. Not even you."

"That's not true," Zoey tells him. But Byron doesn't hear her. He shoves back. Zoey stumbles and falls down, hitting her head on a tombstone.

Zoey sits down at a table in the Talon with the padded envelope she had gotten in the mail earlier that day. She had been okay, just a bump on the head. Byron was in the hospital getting treatment and Martha had convinced Lionel to fund the research into Byron's condition. She opens the envelope and pulls out the contents. It was a small canvas and a card.

'Saw this and thought you might like it.'

Zoey instantly recognized the familiar scrawl. The painting was of a white mask, one that only covered half of the face, with a red rose on a black ground.

"Who is that from?"

Zoey glances over her shoulder to see Lex. She shoots him a smile. "A friend."

In sleep, he sang to me

In dreams, he came

That voice that calls to me and speaks my name

And do I dream again for now I find

The Phantom of the Opera is there

Inside my mind

Sing once again with me

Our strange duet

My power over you grows stronger yet

And though you turn from me to glance behind

The Phantom of the Opera is there

Inside your mind