Chapter Three – First Meetings: of Future and Past

Drum and bass blared out the subwoofers connected throughout Braddock's suite, which added to the cacophony of noise as what must have been over one hundred college students chatted, flirted, drank, and danced. The lights were low and neon flashed around the walls and ceiling. I took a deep drink from my cup, the aim to be dulling my senses to the mess off light and sound. I closed my eyes, shutting of my visual perception of everything that was happening. I never liked parties: too much stimuli, even before I became Spider-Man.

I could hear Harry and Liz talking next to me. As predicted Harry had 'convinced' me to come to Brian's party, and was tonight dressed in a pair of leather trousers (real leather of course) and a t-shirt; his $1,500 blazer was casually draped over the back of the set of sofas we were sat on in one of Brian's side rooms – just the thought of a college kid having side rooms was still ridiculous to me. Liz's outfit was slightly more affordable, consisting of a $200 sky blue minidress. She had said some words to Harry about 'ruched' and 'mesh' which he seemed to approve of. Her blonde hair hung in loose curls, and in her hand was a glass that smelt of juniper berries – a gin of some sort. I slowly opened my eyes to the uncomfortable sight of Ned and Betty sat across from us with their tongues in each other's mouths, and closed my eyes again.

Over the following hour I remained in my seat, finishing the cup and refilling. Harry and Liz vanished, probably to go and get into trouble somewhere (whenever they were together with alcohol they loved to be the centre of attention) whilst Betty and Ned also vanished, probably also to get into trouble, likely a different kind than Harry and Liz. By the time they returned I was almost definitely unable to stand properly – saying the alphabet forwards was going to be a struggle let alone backwards. I vaguely listened into their conversations: Liz was considering asking out a guy in her architecture class, Betty was trying to convince everyone to go on a group holiday, and Ned and Harry were arguing about something, probably music. I half followed along for a few minutes, before a phrase caught my attention:

"What do you guys think's going on with Spider-Man?"

Betty had asked the question. Her phone was out and she was scrolling through what looked to be like a text message.

"Like his fashion sense?" Harry quipped.

"Know how he helped arrest that Manfredi guy the other night?"

"Silvermane?" I asked quickly.

"Yeah him. Well Melita has just messaged me about it. I'm meant to be helping her sort a story tomorrow – apparently Spider-Man beat him so hard he's in the hospital."

"The hospitals are always full of guys Spider-Man has beaten up." Ned said casually, beer can in hand, "they shouldn't be out there committing crimes."

"But those guys aren't in their eighties." Betty said sternly.

"What did you want him to do?" Liz asked. "Wrap him up in blankets and walk him down the stairs?"

"I'm just saying you'd have thought he'd be a little more careful. It's not like this guy is a giant scorpion man – he's a pensioner."

I suddenly smelt a strong scent of cheap aftershave and weed – a moment later Flash crashed into the chair next to me. "So what are all you social butterflies talking about?" His eyes were ringed red.

"Spider-Man." I said.

"What about him?" Flash asked, grabbing my empty cup and placing it next to his, then refilled both with the cheap vodka I had got a hold of.

"Whether he's changing – going off the deep end." Betty said.

"Nah man." Flash answered, taking a deep gulp from his cup. "If I had his powers I'd be doing as much as I could too."

"An old man is in hospital in a coma because of him."

"Betty, it's not like Spider-Man killed him." Harry said matter-of-factly.

"But if he dies in there Spider-Man will as good have."

That sentence should have thrown me, hurt me, but it didn't. I don't know whether it was the alcohol, but I didn't feel anything from those words. Its like Ned said: he was a criminal. Every criminal I help put away means one less case of someone like Gwen being killed. I have the power to prevent anyone else going through the same pain I am, so it's my responsibility to do so.

My attention was brought back to the party by a commotion coming from the main room; I looked over and saw Brian and his buddies re-entering the room. He had to bend down to fit through the door, something you probably have to do a lot when your six-and-a-half feet tall. I recognised most of the people he was with – mainly guys from the soccer team but I did pick out a few of Flash's basketball teammates too. They were accompanied by their girlfriends, as well as a more potent smell of weed which I could already detect; one person jumped out at me though as interesting.

"Hey Flash who's that girl with Brian?" I asked him.

"The small blonde chick?" Flash replied; I nodded. "She's Brock's girl."

I was surprised by this. Petite with pale blonde hair, a round face and green eyes lines behind black eyeliner and shadow. She couldn't be many more inches over five foot, and was wearing a black leather dress with buckles at the front. A matching choker sat around her neck. The most surprising thing about her being the girl Eddie had alluded to was that she was acting very close to Brian, being almost clingy. If I didn't know any better I'd have though she was dating the captain of the soccer team, not the journalism major. I scanned the room for Eddie and spotted him chatting to a guy who I knew did philosophy, Eddie's minor. He was dressed in a pair of simple dark jeans and a t-shirt. He must have likewise heard the group enter as he turned to watch them walk into the large room.

Saying his goodbyes to his classmate he stood and walked towards the petite girl. She caught his eye and left Brian's side, meeting Eddie halfway, who took her small hand into his large, almost engulfing it entirely. Much to my surprise he then made a straight line to where we were sat.

"Everyone, I want you to meet Felicia." Eddie announced as he got to us.

"Hi." She spoke. Her voice was deeper than I was expecting, and was met by a chorus of greetings in various forms from out group. "Mind if we sit down?"

"Feel free." Harry said, shuffling along to make a space between myself and him, which Felicia filled. Eddie took a seat on the other side facing his girlfriend next to Betty. I breathed in and smelt Felicia's perfume – it wasn't overpowering like the aftershave Flash and Harry had on.

"So where did you two meet?" Liz asked him, making conversation.

Felicia kept her mouth shut, expecting Eddie to answer. I found myself transfixed on her lips, which were coloured black and pouty. "Well little Miss Hardy and I actually met in the gym I go to." He explained. "She wanted some help with weights and lifting so I have her a hand, and we started talking from there."

"Honestly if you need help with weights Eddie was the best person to go to." Felicia commented. I expected to smell marijuana on her breath but was surprised that all I smelt was her drink – something fruity.

"Cool man, glad that you two are together. How long ago was that?" Ned inquired.

"About three weeks ago." Eddie answered quickly.

"And you two are already together? Pretty short time frame." Harry said, looking at Felicia who turned to face him. Liz smacked him on the arm, presumably for his blunt comment.

"Well if you have that connection why wait?" Felicia replied, holding eye contact with Harry. There was something almost alluring in the way she spoke.

"Someone up there must have thought we'd make a good match." Eddie added, pointing his eyes towards the ceiling.

"You mean someone in the penthouse?" Harry joked, eliciting a chuckle from Felicia.

"What are you both drinking?" Liz asked, ignoring Harry's rhetorical question. She grabbed her bottle of vodka, a much more expensive brand than I had, and offered it to the couple.

"I've still got my drink." Felicia declined, raising her cup so Liz could see. "And Eddie is boring and doesn't drink." She smirked at her boyfriend.

"Listen, I tried it when I was younger and didn't like it." Eddie shrugged. "Besides, my dad was an alcoholic and I saw what it did to him, so I'd rather avoid it."

"Cheers to having alcoholic dads." Flash joked, raising his own glass clearly not sharing the same concerns that Eddie had.

Eddie smiled uncomfortably at the joke, and stood to his feet. "I'm going to get some air, coming Felicia?"

"I'm going to chill here for a bit, get to know some of your friends a bit more."

"I'll come." I said, feeling like the fresh air was probably a good idea, and besides I had no interest in making small talk to Felicia considering she hadn't even acknowledged me.

"I'll join." Betty chimed in, standing to her feet, and walking to help support me as I swayed. The three of us set off towards the door to Brian's balcony. As we were walking I turned to look back at our group, and noticed Felicia's hand resting on Harry's thigh.

I turned back to carry on walking. Wasn't my place to comment.

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"What an unexpected surprise." The Goblin growled, my mask in his clawed armoured hand. The moon was silhouetted behind him, the night sky clear of clouds.

I stood and looked him in his golden eyes, knowing that behind his green, ever smirking mask, he was looking at me. He was slightly bent over, his shoulders lurched over. I'd got reckless, gotten too slow. In one swipe the Goblin had slashed the back of my head, pulling my mask with it. I could feel the warm blood running down my back, but it wasn't the time to worry about that yet. I was focused on the tall, green and purple armoured figure in front of me.

"Who'd have thought my dance partner was Peter Parker." He chuckled, still in his low growl. My blood suddenly felt cold – how did he know who I was? He recognised my face; I racked my brain for people who knew me and fitted what limited knowledge of the Goblin's physical proportions I had. "Bet you're excited now."

I flicked my wrist forward, the string of web shooting towards the Goblin's chest. He sidestepped it and it attached to the brick wall behind him. Before I could act again he was already on me, swinging for my chest and connected. The air left my lungs and I felt myself lifted off my feet. I brought my legs up to kick of the Goblin, but he grabbed my calf and pulled me back down slamming me into the ground. As he went for another strike I shot a web towards the small wall at the edge of the building, pulling myself through the legs of the Goblin and flicking myself up onto my feet.

Again, too late. The Goblin was already there, his gauntleted hand around my throat, claws piercing the sides of my next. He wasn't trying to rip my throat out, not yet at least, just cause me pain.

"So the spider's out the bag." I gasped, grabbing at his forearm. "I've shown you mine, isn't this where you're supposed to show me yours?"

"Peter, Peter, Peter, you keep flirting and I'll start blushing." Goblin growled. I swung my leg up and brought it down on his inner elbow, making it buckle and forcing his grip to release. Before he could move I skipped round to the back of him and drove his head into the brick wall. He swung blindly and I ducked it, then grabbed him around the waist and dropped him to the floor. He grabbed my forearm, flinging me away and rolling back to his feet. My spider-sense kicked in and I jumped instinctively, narrowly missing the Goblin's glider which flew at me from behind. The large metal craft stopped at Goblin's feet and he jumped onto it, crouching down on the board into a three point stance.

He looked at my mask, and threw it into my direction. I caught it in the air.

"Although I'd love to stay and chat it's time to go – only a flying visit tonight." The Goblin said. I heard a series of clicks and saw the latches at the side of the Goblin's mask open. He pulled the faceplate off with his free hand, and I reflexively gasped at the face under it. It was the face of an older man, with a rectangular jaw and sharp features. There was faint brown stubble, and his blue eyes stared into mine. The lips parted in a smile, showing a row of straight white teeth.

He spoke in the southern accent which I had heard come from Norman Osborn's mouth countless times throughout my life: "got to make sure Harry's sandwiches are done for tomorrow."

I was speechless – he laughed as the glider rose into the air and he reattached his faceplate. I should have shot a web at him, but I was incapacitated with shock, my legs rooted to the ground and my arms far too heavy to move.

I sat up suddenly – I was back in my room. The memory of two years ago was just that – a memory which had worked itself into my dreams. My clothes were covered with sweat so I quickly stripped them off, throwing them onto the floor.

I needed to clear my head, so reached under my bed for Uncle Ben's suitcase.

Song Recommendation: Lips - Lipless