Fandango 1.3

"Actually, can introductions wait? Tats and I don't look too good," the one in the drama club outfit said with a pained voice, pointing to the blonde girl. I looked closer; she was barely conscious. She had a broken left arm, and her lavender bodysuit was singed all along her left side.

Okay, now I felt awkward. "Right, you can fill me in on the way to a hospital."

The musclebound man in leather nodded, then spoke, his voice echo-y and strange. "Right- wait, you're coming with us?"

Oh. Right, I had no idea who any of these people were. For all I knew, they were murderers and jerkbags. "I... uh, I guess not."

"Shit, I didn't mean it like that. Look, we owe you our lives for this, and we've got some spare cash from a recent job. Can you ride horseback?" I nodded. Nature camp had taught me something useful, it seemed. "Then climb up on Angelica over there, and we'll talk after. I'm Grue, by the way."

Okay, guess I'm going with them after all. Hope they're decent people.

Of course, if they weren't, I'd be pretty screwed.

"No," was the reply from the dog-masked girl. "Not riding my dogs."

"She saved their lives too, Bitch." I raised an eyebrow at that. Oh, in the female dog sense.

She stared at me, and I stared right back, until she looked away. "Fine, just one ride."

The Shakespeare-in-the-park guy groaned. "Great. If you all are done discussing, I humbly request that we pump me full of painkillers as soon as possible. Broken ribs hurt like a motherfucker."

"Right. Help me get him up on Judas here, and then I'll help you onto Angelica."

While we helped Renfair up, I checked in on Lung and his merry band of misfits. They were making good progress, and I could hear (through Lung) the distant sound of a motorcycle incoming. Hopefully that was Armsmaster, but just to be sure I made them up their volume.

"SIX FOOT, SEVEN FOOT, EIGHT FOOT BUNCH!" yelled Lung.

"DAYLIGHT COME AND ME WANT TO GO HOME!" responded a chorus of gangbangers.

There we go, now the cycle was getting close much faster. Happy trails.

"You hear something?"

"That'd be the conga line. Made them up their volume."

Renfair groaned. "Normally, I'd laugh, but it'd be far too painful. For now, just know I'm proud of you."

I smiled a little. "Aww, shucks, you mean it?" Then, more seriously, "Let's get you to a doctor." I swung up onto Angelica's back, and we rode.

Not a very comfortable ride, let me assure you.

I walked home in the light of early morning, mulling things over.

I'd been introduced to the Undersiders. Apparently, they were a low-level, well-funded group of small-time villains.

A few months ago, I would have walked away right there. Now, I knew how corrupt the system was, so I heard them out. I really didn't want to be independent, not after royally pissing off the ABB.

I had to admit, the deal Grue offered was tempting; two grand a month was more than my dad had made in his prime, and that was before any jobs. I'd have to find a cover story, but I had ideas about that.

It would help me relieve stress, and give me people to talk to. They weren't the most stable people, but they were far better than no friends at all.

Grue was a decent, no-nonsense kind of guy, and Regent either found my power hilarious, or was the most deadpan sarcastic ever; probably both. Bitch was kind of standoffish, but you couldn't win everything. No idea about Tattletale; it was kind of hard to trust someone who literally called themselves a secret-spiller, and I hadn't really gotten a chance to talk with her.

But, a part of me said, they could be leading you on.

They'd be fools to try, a part of me replied.

I sighed. Good thing they gave me some time to decide. Priority 1 today would be digging up info on their pasts. Priority 2 would be weighing my options, seeing if any other small groups existed in town, that kind of thing. I'd agreed to a meeting later tonight, but I couldn't just make this decision without thinking about it.

One upside; Armsmaster had managed to tranquilize Lung before my power had run out, so at least I wouldn't have to deal with his revenge. He was the PRT's problem now.

Ugh, I was tired. Priority 0: get home and sleep a bit before my run.

I rose with the sun, tired and cranky and sore. As tempting as it was to skip my morning run, I forced myself to get dressed and stumble out the door. Failing to run would leave me even more tired, and might alert my dad that something was up.

The air was brisk and chill, the pavement and sidewalks familiar. The music for today was rock, to psych myself up for the day, but it barely worked. I ran till I was a sweaty mess, and headed straight for my shower when I returned home, barely pausing for a "g'mornin'," mumbled by my dad over his coffee.

Sweet, blissful water, cold and refreshing; a couple slaps at my cheeks, to wake myself up; some singing along to the music. Maybe I should get a travel mug of tea? Strong tea. I'll just leave the bag in the thing, let it steep on the bus ride.

Shit, I forgot to fix my art project – crap, and I needed to refill my backpack, too! I shut off the shower in a rush, dried off as fast as I could, and pulled on just enough to be decent before I charged to my room.

Fuck, I had ten minutes to be at the bus stop, and it was four minutes away. I slowed down, realizing I couldn't make it. The fucking trio had ruined my life, and now I was late, and tired, and my undergarments needed dry-cleaning, and I'd lost the art project I'd worked so hard on, and it was all their fault. Fuck those bitches.

I went downstairs after pulling on some clothes. Dad had already left, so there was no getting a ride. I quietly made breakfast, music ringing hollow in my ears, too strong and energetic for my mood.

Okay, I could catch the next bus. It'd be fine. I wouldn't get to search up the info I wanted in first period, and Art would be awkward without my project, but at least I wouldn't be skipping again. I didn't want to attract attention like that.

I prepped my bag, ate my eggs, and caught the next bus, again ignoring the looks I received as a teenage girl got on a bus after 8, weaving my way to the back of the bus. The ride itself was delayed twice as a fat man in a mobility scooter got on and off the bus, wasting our time in exchange for a lift of just a few blocks.

By the time I got to school, second period was already in full swing. Someone, probably Madison, had put juice in my chair, which just pissed me off even more. I moved to the empty desk at the back, barely able to see past all the others, and took notes.

God, I was so tired. My brain responded by pointing out the travel mug of tea. I reached down and searched through my bag, before finally realizing that I left it at home. I had a mental image of the delicious, strong, sleep-banishing tea slowly growing cold on the counter. I put my head in my arms, defeated. My arms were bony, but warm, and I shifted them a little to cradle my head just so…

"Taylor, could you stay after class?"

Dammit, I'd drifted off. I sat up, nodded groggily to Mr. Gladly, mentally winced at the looks and giggles from the rest of the class. My music whispered faintly from the earbud I had in, slow and jazzy.

"As I was saying, Tonight, for homework, I want you to come up with examples of how capes have influenced society. Tomorrow, we will be doing group presentations based on tonight's work, so try to come up with unique examples."

He grinned, a toothy wide grin that I supposed was meant to be friendly, and clapped his hands together. "Okay, we have ten minutes to the bell, so feel free to talk quietly among yourselves or get a head start on the work!"

The classroom burst into noise, and I turned up my music, changing it to something more energetic. Right now, I was really tired, and dreading the chewing out I was going to receive, but I still jotted down some notes.

Capes had huge influence on society, anyone could see that; Earth Aleph was the perfect example. An entire alternate timeline where capes were rare, and where the entire next generation had ended up being made of entirely different people, just because almost everyone born after Scion had been influenced just a little by his appearance.

Aleph's music was less futuristic and electronic, and had much more variation. Their politics were boring and mundane even by political standards, and they had no S-class threats. Crime was low, low enough that incidents that would barely make a ripple here made waves in their media. Technology was less advanced on average, but more advanced in some areas like aerospace and travel technology.

The bell rang before I could get any further, and I slowly gathered my things and headed up to the front. Mr. Gladly was waiting up at his desk, straightening some papers. I walked up to his desk, and he looked up.

"Ah, Taylor. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I'm fine. Just tired."

He gave me a look. "I could tell." A glance at his desk, then back to me. "Late night? A party or something?"

What? Just because he tried to be a popular teacher, associated with the popular kids, didn't mean that every high schooler had parties on school nights!

Or maybe, somehow, he knew I was a cape? No, it couldn't be. This was a guy who wanted to be called 'Mr. G', who stood idly by and did nothing about my bullies. How would he figure that out, but ignore how people really felt about his whole cool kid act?

"N-no. Just couldn't sleep."

He sighed. "Look, Taylor, I've seen the signs. Don't think I didn't notice you coming in late, and sitting in the back. If you have anything to say to me, I'm here. I just want to help."

The signs? He was acknowledging the bullying, even though he never did anything about it, offering an empty gesture of help, when he could have been helping this whole time? My anger rose.

'Maybe you could start by actually punishing the people who bully me. Maybe you could stand up when one of your students is going through hell, every day, right in front of you!'

I could have said that. Could have snapped, lashed out. It wouldn't have done anything, wouldn't have turned him to my side.

Instead, I just gave him the most incredulous look my tired face could muster, then turned to leave, flinging one little insult over my shoulder.

"But you won't."

I walked out the door, right into a trap.

"Heya Taylor. Had a good nap?"

Emma, Sophia, and a squad of bitches. I tried to walk past, but they herded me to the wall nearby.

"You know, the bags under her eyes actually help her face out."

"I think they make her look old. Wrinkly."

"So ugly I might puke."

"I hear she didn't even show up to class this morning."

"She'd probably like that. I hear she eats out of the toilet."

It was just random insults, being thrown at a wall. Nothing stuck. If I just waited, they'd let me be, lose interest.

"She's so flat!"

"Stupid, forgets her homework…"

"You sleep in today? Had nightmares?"

"… a slut…"

"…string bean…"

"…earbud girl, maybe she's a stripper…"

Mostly just talking past each other, contradicting things to try to get to me. I tuned it out, trying to focus on the music, ignoring the impulse to sway along or close my eyes.

"You work the streets last night? Put bread on the table?"

"…probably puts out for her dad…"

The music thrummed on, a hard, wild guitar.

"…smells like trash…"

"…loose down there, nobody wants her…"

I would have hummed, but that might just give them more ammunition. Crazy girl, lost in her head or something. Instead, I looked towards Emma, just in time for her stupid lips to open and say the next inane-

"Or did you cry yourself to sleep? Like after your mother died?"

Things were supposed to stop, when you hear something like that. You were supposed to get a moment to process, for it to sink in, for you to plan a reaction or steel yourself.

But the taunts kept flying, even as I stared at Emma. The music in my earbud kept playing, Gladly's door kept opening, and the burning in my eyes began.

Mr. Gladly stepped out of his room, glancing around. His eyes fell on me, and his expression turned briefly sad, as he walked away.

I almost didn't notice when Emma started humming along to my song. Almost didn't stop myself. Couldn't stop the tears, couldn't push past with Sophia there, couldn't do anything but glare at Emma, words forming on my lips even as I quelled my power.

"Don't. Not my mother. Not again."

Quieter than I wanted, not defiant, not pleading. Monotone, a statement.

She just smiled, a deranged, broken grin of sadistic glee.

"Of course, Tay-Tay."

The bell rang. They dispersed.

I left the school.