There were five customers in the small neighborhood market at that moment. The gothic-style woman, wearing black clothes and dark make-up, was at the aisle of chocolates and processed snacks. She was carrying one of the market baskets and was putting salted peanuts in it. She was passed by a young man driving a trolley with some beverage. This young man, of university age, stopped next to the gothic-style woman and put a few packets of potato chips in the trolley. The two exchanged glances, but no words were spoken. Perhaps the young man thought the goth girl was strange, and she, in turn, thought the young man was a shallow little son of a bitch.
In the next aisle, a market worker was restocking the shelves. A middle-aged woman in casual clothes passed him.
"How expensive everything is!" She said to the man.
"What can I do?" He replied quickly and continued his work, while the middle-aged woman continued to compare prices.
An elderly woman was making her way to the only cashier available at the time, which was manned by a balding woman. Finally, a middle-aged man, dressed in a T-shirt that served as a mechanic's shop uniform, was at the back of the market, passing in front of the freezer that kept the ice cream. He picked up a jar and put it in the basket he was carrying. There was also an employee who worked in the stockroom, and the market manager, who was in the bathroom at the time.
Everyone was too busy with their own problems and tasks. The goth girl was having relationship problems, the young man was failing at college, the old woman was suffering from loneliness, the middle-aged woman was worrying about her rebellious son, and the man from the mechanic's shop was putting his business at risk because of crime in the neighborhood. The stock clerk was worried about his own meager earnings, the cashier was pregnant again, the other stock clerk was desperate to keep his job, and the manager was worried about the supposedly spoiled food he had eaten for lunch.
No one paid any attention to the fight going on outside the store, partly because their thoughts were far away, partly because the music inside was particularly loud at the time, and partly because the glass and walls of the entrance relatively isolated external sound. Until a man in a suit was thrown through the glass door. A second man, also in a suit, entered the same market in a clumsy manner. He ran straight past the fallen man and into the market. The most centralized aisle was the one selling snacks and chocolates, where the goth girl and the young college student met. The man in the suit ran up to the young woman and overpowered her, grabbing her by the neck.
"Stay still!" He shouted as he revealed the firearm. "Everyone stay still or she's die."
The old woman and the cashier were paralyzed, as were the middle-aged woman and the clerk who ran to hide in a corner of the market near the stockroom door. The reason for the well-dressed man's desperation was soon revealed. Two people came into the market dressed in black, masked clothes, so that all that could be seen were their eyes. The first person was taller, around 1.80m. The second person was smaller in stature.
"If you come any closer, I'll shoot!" The man in the suit shouted at the masked people.
"Don't do anything foolish." The tallest masked person revealed a metallic voice.
"Stand your ground or I'll shoot!" The man shouted louder.
The masked person raised their hands and tried to negotiate, while their companion checked the vital signs of the other downed man.
"He's alive, but bleeding." The shorter masked person reported and turned to the women huddled at the checkout counter. "Call 911." They ordered. "Tall, we have five minutes."
The taller masked person casually picked up a glass of jam on offer, placed at the entrance to the aisle.
"Dude, let the girl go. All the evidence has already been sent to the police. It's over."
The young university student made a sudden movement, drawing the attention of the man in the suit, and was shot at the end of the corridor, prompting the taller masked person to act quickly. They threw the glass of jam precisely in the face of the man in the suit and, in a precise run, grabbed the man's wrist, made him drop the gun with a twist of his wrist, freed the young woman and managed to push the threat away. The smaller masked person then appeared and threw a punch so hard that the man in the suit fainted.
The taller masked person supported the young Goth woman, while the smaller one knelt in front of the shot university student.
"It wasn't fatal... I think." The smaller masked person said in a metallic voice. "They'll be fine. We need to get out of here."
The larger masked person nodded to their companion, and gave a little wink to the goth girl.
"Call 911 NOW!" Reinforced the smaller masked person to the cashier and the elderly woman before the two left the scene.
The cashier reached for the phone and made the necessary call. The mechanic and the middle-aged woman approached the wounded young man. The university student was in shock. Apparently the bullet had entered his shoulder from behind, and had not hit any vital organs since the guy was still conscious. The manager left the office, finding the little chaos that was the market he ran.
"What the fuck happened here?" He didn't ask anyone in particular.
"Those masked men wanted these guys." The mechanic approached the man in the suit passed out on the floor. "They didn't steal anything. The bullshit was with these guys, apparently."
"Maybe that makes some sense." The manager put his hand to his forehead. "I know this guy."
"That's not the..." The employee approached.
"Big Mike... the mobster who charges a monthly fee for neighborhood security."
"But doesn't he have several security guards?" The mechanic asked.
The two men decided to look outside the store, and what they found were several men lying on the sidewalk and in the street. On the horizon, as they entered the street, the police arrived with the first's responders. There was no longer any sign of the masked persons. The man in the suit and the young university student were attended to and taken away by ambulance. Some of the gang members were arrested, and others took the opportunity to escape. All the others were also treated by the emergency services, but their problem was more psychological than physical, and each one had to deal with it later as best they could. The news soon spread, as the security cameras installed in the neighborhood market managed to record much of the action.
...
…
"I've never been so scared in my life." Tina told her friends. "I was there in the market, in perfect peace, and suddenly I was sure I was going to die right there."
"I heard that an arm of the mafia went down that day." Sam said with wide eyes.
"Yeah, it's all over the news." Rachel said conflictedly. At the same time as she was happy that her friend had survived a risky situation, there was a hint of jealousy at the attention Tina was getting. The day before, Tina had appeared on three television channels and made statements to several newspapers.
"I spoke to Big Mike once." Finn told his friends. "He took his car in for a repair. He paid 10% more than the quoted price to have it serviced ASAP."
"How could a guy who was barely six feet tall be called Big Mike?" Sam asked almost casually.
"They say his big isn't a reference to his height." Kurt said with his usual cynical tone.
"You didn't get to see anything about the two vigilantes?" Sam asked.
"Nothing!" Tina said with some disappointment. "By the way, one of them has blue eyes. He's the tall one who saved me. I got a good look at his eyes. They wear black makeup around their eyes, but I can tell that the taller one's eyes are definitely blue. I couldn't see anything about the shorter one. Except that he was very strong."
"How boring." Santana said in a disapproving tone. "Now we're going to have to hear for the rest of the month about the greatest thrill the Chang girl has ever experienced in her boring life. I don't know if I can stand it."
"Just cover your ears, Santana." Tina challenged. "No one called you to the conversation anyway."
"I'm not the one who wasn't called in, Chang. It was you who kidnapped our in the first place to tell about your little drama, which everyone already knows what it's about."
"Fuck you, Santana." Tina squawked.
"That would really be great... for myself. Super relaxing." Santana replied with a cynical smile.
"You're disgusting." Rachel closed her face and got a kiss thrown in the air by her colleague.
"This is no time to tease, Satan." Mercedes said into her friend's ear, who flinched.
"But I hate them and teasing them with truths is fun." Santana replied just as reservedly to her friend.
"Keep your posture."
"Honestly, I don't know what I'm doing here."
"It's just that you love me."
"Don't be so optimistic, Wheezy."
The young woman gave the group a theatrical smile and remained silent. In the meantime, William Schuester, director and producer of the musical play to be staged at the community theater, arrived on stage and interrupted the conversation. Rehearsals needed to continue, as they were only a month away from the premiere of the play starring Rachel Berry and Mercedes Jones. It was a short-run, amateur musical, produced with investment from the community itself, which looked after the cultural apparatus, as well as sponsorship from Hummel's mechanical workshop.
Both Mercedes and Santana were newcomers to the group that had been formed since high school. Rachel Berry, Finn Hudson, Tina Cohen-Chang, Sam Evans and Kurt Hummel were the remnants of a group that had once been bigger. Tina herself was responsible for bringing the duo together: as a student at the State University, she knew Mercedes, a journalism student, who in turn was a roommate of Santana Lopez, a civil engineering student. Tina convinced Mercedes to audition for the new play, and Mercedes in turn convinced her best friend to accompany her. It wasn't Santana's goal to audition, let alone stay in the group. She was there as a favor to her best friend: Mercedes was an avid enthusiast for the arts of singing and theater.
At the end of the evening's rehearsal, unexpectedly there was a pair of journalists eager to interview the witness and survivor. The gothic college girl had nothing more to say about the event, but in order to feed the sudden attention, she began to exaggerate about the action and her own feelings.
"I hope she enjoys her 15 minutes of fame." Rachel quipped on the way to the parking lot.
"I wouldn't want that 15 minutes of fame." Kurt commented. "If I were her, I'd be giving interviews to psychologists instead of journalists."
"Let's go home, guys." Finn opened the door of the truck for his girlfriend to get in. "Do you want to sleep with me tonight or go home?"
"I'm going home, if you don't mind. I have class tomorrow." Rachel said. "Saturday, okay?"
Finn nodded to his girlfriend and waited for his step-brother to get into the vehicle. The rehearsal day was over, as was theater week.
...
"... I don't think the population should start putting on masks and taking the law into their own hands. We have laws! Although some of them may seem excessive in some respects, they are laws. On the other hand, we need to understand that these social phenomena are the consequences of the malfunctioning of the security system, public policies and the corrupt actions of certain elements who work in these entities. Our police force is floppy, and my delusional colleagues think you fight crime by lecturing, as if the criminals were five-year-olds..."
Kurt was following Sue Sylvester's commentary on the morning news. He didn't like the popular city councilwoman who had an anti-establishment platform, but who often worked in tandem with the system. Not to mention that Sylvester was the main political opponent of Burt Hummel, Kurt's father and leader of the group responsible for the city's progressive proposals. What bothered Kurt most was that he agreed with Sylvester. She was an absolutely unpleasant person, and agreeing with her was in itself quite confrontational.
"It seems there's no other talk in this town." Rachel grumbled.
"Especially when things started happening so close to home." Kurt finished his cup of coffee.
"Tina's an exaggerator."
"What happened to her was real. She was at risk of death. I wouldn't want to be in her shoes, or have that kind of 15 minutes of fame."
"I'm grateful that Tina's okay, Kurt. I just don't like this debate. I'd rather devote myself to my goals."
"Getting accepted to C Academy." Kurt rolled his eyes. "Rachel, darling, you've already received three rejection letters. If you ask me, the best thing you can do is graduate from community college and try out for the auditions that come up. That's it."
"Thanks for the support." Rachel mumbled to her friend.
She grabbed her backpack from her room and left the apartment she shared with her friend. When she didn't have the benefit of her boyfriend's rides, Rachel had to walk to the subway station and take the blue line to get to the community college. It took just ten minutes, not counting the wait at the station. The city's community college was housed in a historic building. It was an architectural complex involving an almost century-old building, integrated with a second brand-new building of contemporary architecture. The campus was an object of love and hate in equal measure. Rachel liked the mix.
Rachel finished her acting degree last term. As nothing new happened in the professional field, apart from the recurring money she made singing regularly in a restaurant and the occasional marketing job, she decided to continue studying more advanced performing arts classes. Kurt was also a student at the Community College, although he preferred business with a view to opening his own online boutique. From the community theater group, the students consisted of Rachel, Kurt, Tina, Mercedes and Santana, although the last three were studying at the State University to earn a degree as privileged bitches, as Finn Hudson used to say.
"Good morning, Quinn." Rachel entered the hall of the modern college building and saw her colleague who worked in the cafeteria already in her usual uniform.
"Hi, Berry. You want the usual?"
"Yes." Rachel smiled and handed Quinn the coins to register at the till. "If you can add more cinnamon, I'll love you for the rest of my life."
"Always over the top." Quinn smiled politely and got to work on the cappuccino.
"How's Beth?"
"She's fine."
"Is she enjoying school?"
"Yes. Things get better when you socialize with your peers."
"True."
"Extra cinnamon." Quinn handed the student her coffee cup.
Quinn watched the student walk away. She didn't have much to think about at that moment apart from smiling and attending to the next customer in line. Every day was the same: the college ran from Monday to Friday, and Quinn worked the morning shift, which was traditionally the busiest. The coffee shop was owned by her in partnership with Joe Hart, where she brought the administrative skills and he brought the initial investment. Both had their share of the workforce. The small store in the college premises was only a year old, but the clientele was guaranteed and this enabled Quinn to make a good enough wage to cover her expenses and raise her five-year-old daughter.
"Hi Quinn." Joe showed up for work when there was already a line. He immediately put on his small business apron and rolled up his shirt sleeve. "Sorry I'm late."
There were two main peaks of coffee consumption in the morning: when the students arrived and when most of them had lunch or left. In between, Joe and Quinn maintained the place. Joe worked alone in the afternoons, as Quinn took advantage of the slower hours to deal with suppliers and pay bills, as well as looking after her daughter. The store closed at 6pm, even though there were evening classes at the university. It was all routine.
"Did you manage to enroll in the distance learning course?" Joe asked after they had served the last customer in the queue at the first stage of the morning.
"Yeap."
"Excited?"
"I have to be."
Quinn smiled at her partner as a gesture of protocol. Inside, she had so many conflicting doubts about herself that if she stopped to think seriously, her head would explode. At the end of her shift, Quinn walked to the next block, where Beth's school was. The little girl was excited about the day's activities with her classmates. The school was organizing a trip to the zoo, and Beth had been talking about it all the way home. Quinn lived near the community college, in an apartment complex for lower-middle class people. Quinn's rented apartment, like half the others in the complex, had two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a kitchen-living room, as well as the common laundry area that served the building's residents. Quinn didn't need luxury. She, who had a privileged childhood, even lived on the street when her parents kicked her out of the house. That apartment was a mansion compared to what she'd been through in her life.
"Quinn Fabray!" A young black trans woman greeted her on the way to the elevator. "Look at little Beth! How are you?"
"Hi Unique." Quinn smiled at Beth's favorite nanny.
"Hi Aunt Unique!" The little girl said happily.
"Coming home from work?" Unique asked, already pressing the button for the fifth floor where they both lived.
"Actually, just taking a break from work." Quinn lamented. "I've got some accounting to do."
"Good luck, girlfriend. Too bad I can't help you. Math is my particular nightmare."
The trio exited the elevator. In the small hall that contained four apartment doors, Quinn took the right-hand path, while Unique took the left. Unique entered her apartment, which was a little more festively decorated than Quinn Fabray's, and came across her roommate Marley Rose finishing tidying up the kitchen.
"Morning, Rose." Unique threw herself on the sofa. "I'm dead."
"The after-show must have been spectacular, by the looks of it." Marley smiled.
"The best!"
"Does the best have a name?"
"Dave Karofsky."
"Really? Karofsky? What kind of name is that?"
"I have no clue. He's family must be from Eastern Europe. But he's American, you know? One of those bears who loves the fact that I still have my thing."
"Oh, a gay bear?"
"He said I'm the best of both worlds... and I'll tell you this... he loves being passive." Unique laughed. "I left his apartment a little while ago, and he begged me to take his business card, so I can call him for other dates." Unique looked for the card in her handbag and showed it to her friend.
"Dave Karofsky, electrician and plumber? Well, let's keep the card, because we might need his services at some point. That kitchen sink is a nightmare."
"Are you going to work already?"
"Yes, but first Grant asked me to stop by his office."
"Do you know what your brother wants this time?"
"He's not my brother."
"Weren't you brought up together?"
"I never stopped being the cook's daughter, Unique." Marley quickly went to her room and picked up her backpack.
"Grant doesn't treat you like that."
"No, but his parents make a point of reminding me where I belong whenever I show up at the mansion."
"Privileged trash!"
"Rest well, darling." Marley kissed Unique's cheek before heading for the door.
"I will. Or I won't be able to do my show tonight."
Marley smiled and closed the apartment door. The road to Grand Fisher's law office was a long one, in the upscale part of the city where part of the privileged class that occupied the banks of the largest and most important park of the city. On the other side of the park was the State University's campus. Marley took the compact and economical car she was driving and braved the traffic. Between stops along the way, she distracted herself with her favorite radio station. She often sang the song along with the sound coming out of the car's speakers. Unique performed regularly at the hotel complex that housed the city's biggest and best casino. She was part of a group of drag queens and trans women who entertained at the hotel complex's only LGBT nightclub. Marley also worked at the hotel, but in the small IT team. Once a week, after work, she performed in a nearby bar that allowed amateur artists to present their own material on the piano or guitar. It was either that, or a few special appearances on the Unique's show.
The Fishes' law office occupied five floors of a modern skyscraper. Marley had a free pass to the building's reception due to a credential she held that gave her status as an employee of one of the dozens of companies that operated there. Grant was a recent law graduate, and his office was on the third of the five floors occupied by the firm. Marley greeted the receptionist on the floor and went straight to the section of four rooms occupied by Grant's team: the largest was his own, and a second was run by Ryder Lynn, who was in charge of the pro bono cases coming from the underprivileged community that Grant served.
"Hi, Grant." Marley gave the door a little knock before entering the office.
"Marley, I'm glad you came. I need a favor, sis."
"What is it this time?"
"I need a discreet service from you."
"What's it about?"
"I need you to install some killer firewalls for a personal computer."
"I'm not doing this pro bono... unlike you, I have to pay rent."
"I promise I'll pay what's fair."
"Is it for your computer?"
"No, it's for a friend. I need you to shield her cell phone and computer with the best system you have available."
"You know there's a very good IT team right here at the firm." Marley was intrigued.
"I don't want to involve the firm." Grant took out a piece of paper and handed it to his thoughtful sister in hart. It contained the name, telephone number and address of her friend.
"I won't be able to answer it until after work or tomorrow morning."
"I need it as soon as possible."
"Tonight, then."
Marley turned away from Grant and returned to her old car. The hotel was three blocks away. It was a good thing that the employees were entitled to a space in the internal parking lot without having to pay the absurd amount that the hotel itself charged for the facility for its guests and visitors to the casino, as well as the other businesses that operated in the complex.
"Good afternoon." Marley walked past the manager.
"You're late!" Her manager said.
"I texted... and worked overtime this week. My time bank is excellent."
Marley walked past her boss and sat down at the table to work. Next to her was Arthur Abrams, but everyone called him Artie. He was a wheelchair user and, like Marley, was considered a prodigy in his field. There was also an older colleague, George Rasik, of Indian origin.
"Are you going to the bar tonight?" Artie asked.
"Nope."
"But it's Friday. You always sing on Fridays." Artie had a crush on Marley, and because of her, he became a customer of the bar where Marley sang.
"I have an extra job to do. You know I'm not turning down money these days."
"Oh, what a drag!"
"It's clean, honest money. So…"
"Will you need help?"
"It's simple at first. If I need you, I'll send you a message and we'll split the money."
At the end of the day, Marley took the piece of paper that Grant had given her and went to work. She wasn't thinking about anything special, except how much she was going to charge her best friend. She entered the campus of the State University and looked for the Stevenson dormitory, known for housing students on scholarship and from more modest financial backgrounds. It was a simpler building, with communal bathrooms, very different from Gilmore dormitory, the building immediately next door, with its dormitories that were more like small apartments for wealthier students. Marley knocked on the door indicated in the address, and was answered by a chubby black student with a look full of attitude.
"Santana Lopez?" Marley intended to ask if the person in front of her was Santana Lopez, but she wasn't taken that way. The young woman rolled her eyes and opened the door wider, revealing a second young woman, this time a Latina, thin, light brown skin beautiful girl.
"San... I hope she's not another one of your conquests." Mercedes snapped.
"I don't know that one." Santana stood up. "But I wouldn't mind taking you out for a beer..." She frowned as a cue for an embarrassed Marley to introduce herself.
"Lopez... hi... my name is Marley Rose, and I came here at Grant Fish's request."
"Oh... are you IT?"
"Yes."
"Well, Grant said I should have a decent firewall on my system, but I didn't think he'd actually provide that, and with someone who definitely doesn't look like a nerd."
"I am a nerd."
"It's not that, it's just… I thought you were a guy."
"People is confused sometimes. They always think of Bob Marley."
"Exactly! Come in for a second. I'll get my computer and phone so you can do your thing."
Marley felt uncomfortable in that dorm room between a girl who was sitting on one of the beds and definitely judging her, and another who was flirting with her.
"How do you know Grant?" Marley felt that a little light conversation would help her deal with the discomfort.
"We're friends." Santana answered, already with the devices in hand.
"Really?" Marley was surprised. "Sorry, but I know Grant's friends... and you... it's just... you look... young and... obviously pretty... the kind that Grant..."
"Grant and I aren't fucking, if that's what you want to know." Santana interrupted the girl. "Grant is handsome and rich, which is definitely an attractive combination, but you're more my type."
"Oh, you... date girls... not that it's any of my business."
"Look, Grant and I met and became friends, okay? It's no big deal."
"His life is none of my business. Sorry. I was just curious." Marley picked up the electronics. "I'll work on the system and give it back to you tomorrow morning. Is that okay?"
"Can it be at lunchtime? Right here in the dorm? I have classes."
"Deal. I'll text you."
"My cell phone will be with you."
"Oh, sure. Well, at lunchtime I'll come by your dorm to give you the properly secured equipment back."
Marley waved at the two young women and walked away, her face burning with embarrassment. She was a nerd, but that didn't mean she was usually ineffective in front of strangers. Santana stood in the doorway and watched IT walk down the hall to the elevators. Marley was pretty. Santana seemed to have a thing for taller girls with blue eyes. Brittany could tell.
"Don't even think about it, Lopez." Mercedes said in a warning tone, making Santana roll her eyes and close the dorm door.
"I didn't do anything, Wheezy."
"This womanizing phase of yours is getting ridiculous. Getting out of hand, if you ask me."
"I didn't do anything!" Santana said louder, already irritated by her friend's reprimand.
"At least I know you'll keep quiet for today."
"I'm exhausted and I still have to study."
"Exactly, you don't have time for girls. Ever since Brittany left you, you haven't settled down with anyone. That's not healthy."
"I settled down with Jenny... for a while."
"Jenny, the most toxic person in this city? It's not healthy to be around her, not even in a coffee line."
"I know you have a point." Santana threw herself onto her bed. "It's just that my life is messed up right now."
"I know, San. I've known you long enough to know that this is a weird phase."
"Do you think I'm doing the right thing?"
"It's not up to me to answer that, San."
Mercedes stared at her friend and sat down on her own bed. These were confusing times. Santana tried to pick up a book to read, but she couldn't concentrate. It would be better to just turn over and sleep.
Outside the Stevenson dormitory, prowling the park towards the university neighborhood, the masked vigilante kept their vigil. With no specific agenda to fulfill at that moment, the vigilante played Batman that night, saving victims of petty crimes.