The curtains were always over the window. Even though it was dark, because of the incident she was able to see easier. At least it saved up on the electricity bill.

Her glasses reflected the light from her computer screen, making them look like cartoonishly big eyes. A blanket was wrapped around her as she sat with her knees up to her chest, watching videos and shows she watched, among other things.

"Mommy," She heard a kid say, clear as day, from outside, "That man always says he has a girl, but how come she never comes out?"

"Shhh - just don't look at the house." The mother said.

Hearing that brought other conversations she has heard outside back to the surface of her memory -

A time before this:

"How come that guy's daughter never comes out?"

"I hear she's special needs."

"Oh... poor guy."

The time before that:

"Wonder if he actually has a daughter or he's just insane. Just what we need - 'special' people in the neighborhood."

And the time before that:

"I just don't know what so great about me, Grandpa."

"You're special, sport. You just need to found out how special you are."

Special,

Special,

Special.

Cindy sighed, and got up from her chair.

She shuffled her way to the kitchen where she saw a note on the table -

HAPPY 14TH CINDY!

TWO BOXES OF PIZZA IN FRIDGE W/SODA

WE'LL GO SOMEWHERE AFTER I GET OFF

She looked around at the kitchen -

On her bare feet the tiles felt cold,

The air in the kitchen felt cold,

The cold air of unfamiliarity,

Something cold about how the walls were newly painted white, how everything was so clean, tidy. How much space there where was and how the even the furniture they had brought with them from the last house seemed out of place, some of it even being old.

She glanced around one more time with empty eyes before going to the fridge -

Pulling out one pizza box,

And the whole two liter soda,

Then walking up the stairs to her room.

She sat down on her chair, set the box on her desk, balancing near the edge and opening the two liter, its hiss seemingly loud in her room. Effortlessly, she brought the bottle to her lips and drank in a kiss that desired the sugar,

Desired the fleetingness of the sugar rush,

Desired feeling something else than being sorry and upset at the world,

Her life.

She opened the pizza box, pulled one cold slice, and took one large bite that devoured half of it.
As she chewed and swallowed, she heard from outside -

"Mommy? Can we go see that movie?"

"Mmm... I dunno if we can."

"Please! I really want to see it!"

"Uh, lets see... We'll be able to watch it, but without popcorn and soda."

"Yay!"

Cindy's head dipped, her hand pushing her glasses up and covering her eyes. The pizza felt heavy in her hand and the light from her computer screen seemed glaring.

The cold from the two liter soda bottle seem to catch onto the air of her room, freezing it, isolating her room from the world and anchoring her to this dark corner.

It reminded her of the cell.

Another birthday by herself,

In a closed space,

In a dark corner.

"Hey, uh... Do you think, you can come over to my house?"

"Where is this coming from?" Cindy asked, having watched Keemia scooch over to Cindy's side of the table.

"Well, like I said before, I never really had friends - even if we're aren't, but - I just... Y'know what, never mind."

Cindy looked at her phone, saw the text message that Peter had sent her earlier that day to go to the usual spot. But then an hour ago, he had sent a text that he might be late due to something coming up. That was before she had sat down to eat lunch. Whatever it was, Cindy didn't think it would be that long, until she had checked the time yesterday and saw that patrol she had done with Miles, stopping the crooks and even patrolling again later, had been two hours when it felt only thirty minutes had passed.

Hearing about Peter's life struggles made sense now.

"I can make time." Cindy said, and saw Keemia's face light up, "After school?"

Cindy didn't like the hope that lit Keemia's eyes, "Really?! I mean - yeah! Uh, my mom picks me up, if that's okay."

Cindy shrugged, "It's fine."

For the rest of the lunch period, Keemia had a small smile and a glow to her that she didn't have before that Cindy had to look away from for being too bright.

For the rest of the school day, everything went as normal, even sensing Miles go off every now and then. Once the school day ended, she went to the school front to find Keemia and found her sitting under the same tree she saw before.

"So how long do we have to wait for your mom?"

"Not too long, cuz my mom -"

A car horn cut Keemia off, making Cindy look over and see a white car, seemingly five or so years old by the looks of it, being slightly different than the other cars around it. There were some dents on the bumper, some scratches on the side. Even from where she was standing, getting a skewed angle, she could spot a crack on the windshield.

"She works evening shift." Keemia finished.

"Anything I should know before getting into your mom's car?"

Keemia thought for a moment as they walked, "Not really."

Keemia got in through the passenger seat, while Cindy got in through the middle seat.

"Keemia?" Keemia's mother said, "Who is this?"

"U-uh, she's..." Keemia said, trying to find the right words.

"We sit at the same lunch table." Cindy said, cutting in, "She asked for me to go to her house and I said yes."

Keemia's mother gasped, "Keemia... You're finally making friends?!"

Keemia shook her head, waving her hands, "No, no! Mom!"

"Sweetie, I'm so proud of you!" Her mother sound, pulling Keemia into a hug.

"Mooom!" Keemia's Mother kept hugging and kissing her daughter with a big smile on her face.

Cindy stared for a moment, then looked out the window, watching the other teens go their way as they went out of the school.

"Sorry about that." Keemia's mother said to Cindy, "Its not everyday my little girl gets to bring home a friend."

"Mom," Keemia said, "We're -"

"Its fine." Cindy said, "Just letting you two have your moment."

"How about we get some food on our way to the house, as a way to celebrate the occasion?" Keemia's mother said.

"No, mom that's -"

"Oh!" Cindy said, "Are you sure that's okay? I've got a big appetite."

"Its the first time my daughter is bringing a friend home!" Keemia's mother exclaimed, beaming like the sun, clapping her hands, "What do you girls want?"

"But Mom, you said -"

"I'm fine with anything, really." Cindy said, putting her seat belt on.

"Alright! Seat belts on!"

When Keemia's mother drove on, Cindy didn't know how they weren't pulled over by the police.

Keemia's house was in the quiet neighborhood, a brick house with a white wooden second story with a ground floor acting as a basement, it seemed, from the outside.

After Keemia's mom pulled away, Keemia and Cindy entered the house. The decor and furniture was simple with a lot of junk mail on the side, the notifications of late bills didn't go unnoticed. Cindy wondered if Keemia ever blamed her father for the repercussions of just being associated with him.

"Can you really eat all of that?" Keemia said, pointing to the five bags of orders in Cindy's hand, each individually pinched between all of her fingers.

"If I can't, I'll save it for later." Cindy said, "And don't worry, I got a great exercise routine."

"Huh..." Keemia said, with a look of doubt.

For a moment, both of them stood standing about, glancing around and not moving.

"So..." Cindy said, "We gonna eat?"

"Oh," Keemia said, "Yeah. We got streaming on the TV."

"Looks a little old." Cindy said as they sat on down on the furniture.

"Cudda been worse..." Keemia said, Cindy detecting a hint of sadness in her tone and making her stop on the subject.

Time passed with them watching different things on the TV while eating:

Internet videos,

TV Shows,

And were about to start watching a movie when the streaming service they were using starting showing Keemia's recommendations on animated shows that had flamboyant, pretty girls in extravagant outfits surrounded by magic.

Cindy recognized them,

Particularly, the series that they were from.

Keemia frantically pressed the button that returned the TV to its main menu that displayed all the streaming services on it.

Doot doot doot doot doot doot!

There was a moment of silence.

"I, uh..." Keemia said, "There's a pretty funny video that I know about."

"How long have you been a Paprika fan?"

Keemia flinched, "U-uh..."

"That was the first season all the way up to the most current one?"

Keemia paused, "...When my dad's infamy as Sandman went big. I know why he did it, but, it still hurt. They became the only things to look forward to after school, when mom was working."

Cindy pursed her lip, uncertain if she should press on,

But she did anyway -

"Any recommendations? Been wanting to get into the series."

That same light in Keemia's eyes returned when she first asked offered Cindy to come over.

"Um... Well, there's obviously the first season, but, it might be a little dated. So..."

Cindy didn't realize the storm that she had unleashed. Keemia went about the Paprika series like a preacher in church. But the more Keemia spoke the more she came alive, as though the way she was before in school and even just a few moments ago she were dead and fossilized. Her face became a clear blue sky and her eyes becoming brighter the more she gushed about the Paprika franchise to the point they became suns, her mouth breathing new life into her and the room.

All to the point that Cindy had to hold back on telling Keemia to shut up,

She put on a smile and nodded,

Hid her hand behind her thigh in order to grip it tight,

She shook her leg -

But despite it all, at the same time, she didn't have the heart to tell Keemia to stop. This was the most animated she had ever seen of the loner. She had likely only ever imagined having someone over, much less someone who knew about her interests without making things weird or awkward. She didn't want to take that away from her.

Cindy glanced at the clock -

Ten minutes,

Thirty minutes, An hour,

An hour thirty; Cindy started feeling that this should wrap up soon -

"...and then they made a crossover with, uh... Masked... something, starts with an 'N'."

"Wait." Cindy's eyes shared the same glint, "When?"

Another thirty minutes.

The conversation would have went longer if not for a text from Peter asking where she was.

"Oh!" Cindy said, "I forgot I had to do something today!"

"Really?" Keemia said, "I mean it shouldn't be -" She saw the time, "Wait, its that time already?! I need to be somewhere, too. I gotta get ready."

Cindy snatched her food from the center table and as she was going to the front door, Keemia called for her, stopping her.

"Um... Is it okay if we share phone numbers?" Keemia said.

Cindy paused, then shrugged, "Eh, sure."

Keemia made a small frown, "You don't have to -"

"No." Cindy said with emphasis in her tone, "Its not like that. Kinda in a rush now, don't wanna be late."

"Oh. Okay."

Quickly, Cindy and Keemia shared their numbers and Cindy said her goodbyes as she stepped out of the front door. She made a text to Peter that she lost track of time and said that she would be on her way. She scanned her surroundings and checked for any place that could duck in to put on her suit, which was in her bag.

Seeing nothing that felt satisfactory, she jogged a block and found a nestled alley that fit the bill. Glancing around one more time in the alley, she quickly slipped out of her clothes and stuffed them and her food into her backpack before pulling out her suit.

She frowned looking at it.

"God... I need to tell Peter this has too much protection and not enough flexibility." She grunted as she slipped into the suit, "There's a reason why I wear the jacket... Makes my titties too big..."

After making sure everything was on and snug, Cindy pressed the center of her visor to put the lenses in place, slung on her backpack on her shoulders, and leapt up to clear the top of the buildings and zipped herself out into the city.

Meanwhile, Keemia went into her room to get ready and took a moment to look at the crystal statue of her hugging her father. She managed to keep it a secret from her mother, knowing exactly how she feels about her father. She went over and touched it, feeling warm as it always did.

She took a deep breath, then looked at the time.

She looked at herself - slipping on new jeans and socks was all the time she would have for. It was something that she talked with the Blind Man when her mother wasn't here. Even though he had insisted that her mother be there for the talks, she insisted that her mother wouldn't talk, much less listen. To her surprise, after a moment of silence, he had actually listened to her. Something told her in that moment that he had a history of his own parental troubles.

By some miracle, he had managed to work out negotiations for visitation hours.

She hadn't missed any with her father,

But if she didn't go now she would.

Cindy landed on the water tower rooftop.

"Sorry I'm late. Was with someone."

"No worries, taking a much needed breather myself." Peter said, pushing himself off the wall he was leaning against. "Was it a friend?"

"...Something like that."

"What's their name?"

Cindy paused, "Keemia Marko."

Peter stared for a moment, "She's at Brooklyn Visions?"

"Yeah? Why?"

"Nothing really, just never expected her to get into the school."

"That's what she said also."

"So you are friends with her?"

"No, we sit at the same table."

"Huh. So you don't have any friends at school?"

Cindy shrugged, "I have Miles."

"That's all?"

"Do I need friends for school?"

"For people like us, Cindy. I can't tell you how many times I nearly folded and went the easy way, but people like MJ, Miles, my... late aunt and uncle. If it weren't for them, you would be looking at a different spider man right now."

"Miles said that you didn't hold back when you fought him during the symbiote invasion."

"He told you that, huh? In fact, that's the reason why I wanted to meet. I saw how you handled those crooks yesterday."

"Really?" Cindy didn't realize the tone of hope she had.

"Yeah, you spooked them. A lot. Like you were scaring kids on Halloween."

"Oh..."

"How do you move that fast? You're so nimble, I would even say cat-like with some of the moves you pulled off, not even I can bounce off walls that fast. Did your powers affect your muscles growing up?"

"Something like that, I think." Her hand moved in a snapping flick, making a small but notable whoosh, "It sounds like I'm putting a lot of effort, right? I'm actually not. How do I say this... its almost like flicking a finger, if that makes sense."

Peter hummed in thought, "Show how fast you can shoot a web, like a western quick draw."

Cindy's arm flung wide in a sweep so sudden it nearly pulled her body, pulling her hand back to shoot a web - all in the moment after Peter just finished his sentence.

"Huh." Peter looked at where the web landed before then raising his hands, palms open, "Hit me. Just not in the face, learned that from Miles."

"As in, during the invasion?"

"No. Back when he was still a regular kid. Back then, for a kid who never fought, he threw a mean hook. Bet he didn't tell you that. Or that he was a big fan of mine then."

"Eh," Cindy shrugged, "looks the type."

"Out of context, that's a little weird." Peter said with a small chuckle, "Come on, doesn't have to be full force."

Cindy stepped up, threw a punch a one of Peter's palms, and there was a dull thud. Peter flexed that hand, "Dang, not bad. Now, not full power, but try a focused hit."

"...How?"

"Imagine your muscles, when you move think of it as putting tension, like they're springs."

Cindy hummed, doubting if she could really do it in a way Peter could find satisfactory. But, regardless, she tried. Imagining her muscles and tendons as individual springs.

Her fist shot out,

And smacked Peter's palm, making it recoil.

"Ah!" Peter waved his hand, "That actually hurt! Wow!"

Cindy focused on the sensation in her mind, and an idea came to her, "Hey, can I try something? Hold up your hands again?"

Peter did, and Cindy, her hand vertical, let her fingers touch Peter's palm. Using the same principal as before, her hand clenched and flew into Peter's palm. That same smack returned.

"Huh," Peter said, waving his hand again, "One-inch punch, huh? So you're not as strong as either me or Miles, but you can compensate by doing focused strikes like that."

"Hmm... By the way, Peter. This suit has too much protection. I can breathe alright, but the protection makes me feel a little stiff and it... it makes my chest pop out."

"Is that why you're still wearing the jacket?"

Cindy glanced around, hunched, then sighed as she opened the jacket.

Peter turned his head away and held up his hand, "Whoa-ho! Okay! Yeah, I was just concerned about your safety. I didn't think I put that much padding."

"Did... you have Mary-Jane put this on first?"

"What - no! No no no no... I was... actually too embarrassed to ask her to put it on. I did superficial, uh..." He paused, trying to find his words, "research, ugh, to make sure it would at least fit."

"Tch, I bet you did."

"Stop. Please."

Cindy pursed her lip, wanting to tease Peter more, "So, why have this thing about holding back, anyway? If we spook the villains, wouldn't that get them to stop doing crime?"

"Cindy, as much as they do bad things, they're still people. They shouldn't be treated that differently."

Cindy looked at Peter, "...Even if they don't change?"

"Even if they don't change." Peter said firmly, "Herman Schultz, the Shocker. Adrian Toomes, the Vulture. Even Flynt Marko, the Sandman - Keemia's father. When he went berserk before the invasion, I tried to talk him down, even if he wasn't listening."

"Even though he destroyed a good part of the city?"

"Kraven's Hunters were chasing him down. They captured him, and it got to the point that he was scared that they would go after Keemia. That's what triggered him."

"...And what if... What about people like Martin Li?"

"Li... He had a lot he was holding in, a lot of it he wasn't handling well. He wrote in his journal - even before he led his Demons to go for Norman Osborn, there were doubts. I tried, but he gave into it."

"...And your Aunt?"

Peter was silent for a moment, "...Its easy to blame others, but its much more easier to blame yourself."

"You blamed yourself? Why? Its was Martin Li and that Octopus guy -"

"His name, is Otto Octavius. I used to work for him before he... changed. I thought I knew him, but he also had secrets he kept from me. He had a history with Norman Osborn. We were going to change the world... but, when Norman pulled our founding, that's when he started to crack. In hindsight, there were signs of him slipping, I should have stepped in but I -"

"Didn't do it?"

"Faith." He said firmly, "There was some gullibility, most of the time it was not being there for him, but I had faith that he would get himself out of that dark place." Peter shook his head, sighing "If only I was there."

"But... wouldn't it just be easier -"

"To kill them?" Something about the way Peter said that made Cindy shrink, a verbal dagger out-of-sight suddenly flashing in the light, "It would. I've even thought about it, more than once. But I've always held back. Always. Its not how we do things. These powers don't throw away responsibility, Cindy. If anything, they remind us on how... greater we can be. My late Aunt had a saying - 'You help someone, you help everyone.'"

"But... what if it isn't enough to help everyone?"

"T'heh..." Peter shook his head, "Cindy, now you're just overthinking things. Even drops of water can fill a bucket. Is that why you can't swing?"

"Maybe." Cindy cursed herself, she had snapped at him, said it too soon.

And just like she predicted, Peter stepped forward, "What's really bothering you, Cindy? The only thing that we don't know is your history with your powers. We're not asking you to make a sob-story. Pieces. Little-by-little, what you feel comfortable enough saying to help us understand."

Cindy was glad the visor's lenses were hiding her eyes, Peter wouldn't be looking at their indecisive shifting.

However, she was becoming aware of her hunching.

"Cindy," Peter said, "Let me say it like this - those... moments of me when I had the symbiote on me, you know - the black suit? A lot of that was the result of me holding in so much - my anger, insecurities, my frustrations. I just don't want that happening to you."

Cindy's head dipped down,

She was silent for a moment,

Then -

"I was... Whatever was happening with... m-my powers... I-I... I could-couldn't control them... And I..." She paused, "I-I... I had to be put in a c-cell."

Peter paused, "...For how long?"

"...Six years... And... Everything... I didn't, really, leave the house for four years, as we moved around the country."

"...Ten years. Six years old..."

She was shaking,

Thinking back on the whole thing, everything,

She bit her lip, tried to control her breathing to make it look like she was at least being emotional but not to tears.

Peter stared for a moment,

Before stepping close and putting his arms around her in a hug.

Cindy stiffened. She thought that after a moment, Peter would let go. But he didn't, and because of that thoughts of hugging him back seeping into her mind. She entertained the idea, but was hesitant, her arms slowly going up to return the hug.

After a moment, the hug stopped.

"Thanks, I guess." Cindy said.

"So that's why you're so hesitant on talking about this. You're responsible of taking care of yourself, Cindy. Me, Miles, even MJ is willing to lend an ear, if you want."

"Thanks." Cindy said, being the only nice thing she could say.

"Well. If you don't want to talk for now, how about we spar to help you blow off some steam?"

"Why?"

"Other than what I just said? Besides, I'll stop holding back a little bit to show you the other end. And - how about this? - you win, we'll go to Eddie's Pizza. Made some connections over the years, and I bet you got the same appetite as me and Miles."

Cindy thought about it.

"...For the food." Cindy said, taking a stance.

"Pfft, o-kay..."

Cindy rubbed her belly as she slumped in the bench in the park.

She didn't win.

But they went and got Eddie's either way.

She rubbed her right rib, among other bruises on her body. Even though she had powers that prevented her from being squishy like everyone else, Peter showed just how much he was really holding back as their sparring went on. Even though she was faster than him, his experience showed by how he was able to predict her movements.

The more she hit him, the less he held back on his hits, reinforcing the holding back policy. In fact, Peter was silent through out the whole fight - it was amazing how much of a difference there was compared to when Peter talked and made quips and jokes. It put an edge to his gradual seriousness, showcasing a speed and strength that Peter never showed that Cindy, or rather anyone considering all of the videos of him on the internet. His muscles seemed to bulge, the black webs accentuating their size and bringing attention to it, and the white eyes of his mask exuded an ambiguous maliciousness like the gaze of a hungry wolf or bear. With how heavy the swishes of his punches and kicks were, the gusts that blew when they nearly grazed her it dawned on Cindy just how much Peter held back.

Cindy wasn't tempted to call it tough love,

But by all intents and purposes,

That was what it was.

She sighed, she was still hungry.

And the words that Peter said to her before letting her go resurfaced in her mind -

"If you really do wanna to do this seriously, Cindy. You have to think about what being a spider person represents in the eyes of people. For eight years, the people saw that I represented the best of New York. Well, except for Triple-J, and... not so much from everyone when I first started. When I was gone and Miles had to take over for a little bit, he ended up representing Harlem. Just, think about that. Okay?"

To the Japanese, Masked Norite represented a hero of justice,

The Paprika Girls were heroines that brought hope and light back to different people -

They were both fictional, but the application still applied.

The Spider men represented the best of New York, even with the mistakes they could end up doing...

Just what was she going to represent in the eyes of people?

Cindy frowned and rubbed her belly again, the pizza filled her belly but she was already hungry again. Having heard stories about Peter's finances and not wanting to exploit the reputation of the spider men, Cindy made it sound as though the whole pizza she got would fill her for a long time.

Which, if she wasn't doing as much physical activity as she is now, it would have.

She pulled out her phone and went to social media,

And had a specific account appear on screen -

[Spiider3]

The description for the account - [Yes. Real third Spider person in New York. Hello Hi Hi.]

The profile picture being a selfie shot of her falling to the ground, framed by two buildings on the side, her hair caught in a wild waltz as the street behind her loomed large. Yet her eyes were clear and calm through the goggle-visor.

Cindy shuddered thinking back at the moment she took this photo, she nearly screamed when she had turned her back, not being able to see the ground or how far she was falling.

Already she had a hundred thousand followers and rising.

The comments ranged from the welcoming to the criticizing,

Those calling her cute,

And the rare few pointing out and saying 'nice things' about her 'assets', those not hidden by her jacket.

Cindy remembered combing through the comments of Peter's Spider man account back when he was the only Spiderperson in New York, and she had come across a comment pointing out how his new suit made his thighs looks good, even a few being 'nice' about his rear. She thought about Miles' account and the few commenters that thought that Miles was 'so cute' during his days as the only Spider man in the city.

Being the only Spiderlady, these comments were to be expected, whether they were from men or women. Although, she did notice that none of the comments were highly suspicious or alarming. There was a stream of comments discussing whether or not Cindy was of age - how she carried herself, how her body looked, how the sound of her voice made things confusing, etc - and she couldn't help but roll her eyes. If only they knew Miles's age, or better yet how old Peter was when he first started as Spider man. Remembering an old picture Mary-Jane showed of Peter during those years, Cindy wondered how was it that Peter looked that different in the suit.

Overall, however, seeing these comments made her feel -

Nothing.

Cindy couldn't tell if it was because of the hunger or if it was being desensitize from chronically being on the internet for four years.

She sighed and slumped on the bench with a pout - perhaps it was both.

Or maybe, even with being the third Spiderperson,

After everything that had happened in her life,

She just felt -

Empty, about the whole thing. Not really feeling tangible, disassociation hovering in her mind like eyes looking at the screen of a phone or monitor.

There, but removed.

She closed her eyes.

Her senses went off and she jolted upright and saw a familiar bearded, bespectacled man.

"Oh! Didn't expect to see you here."

"Paul, right?" She frowned, her senses going off at random again like usual, the headaches becoming less and less frequent now.

"Surprised you remembered with how stiff you were when we first spoke."

"Don't like talking to strangers."

Paul chuckled, "Yet you talked anyway?"

"It'd be rude not to."

Paul had a paper bag of fast food from which he brought out a burger in its wrapping, "Want it? Had a breakfast too large."

Cindy eyed the burger, "...Are you sure?"

"Yeah." Cindy took it as Paul reached into the paper bag once again, "Even have fries here -" When he looked up, he heard the explosive sound of wrapping paper being unfolded in a split second and saw Cindy unhinge her jaw and wolfed half the burger into her mouth.

Cindy jumped, remembering how awful this must look from Paul's perspective.

"Ffforriee..." She managed to say, chewing after.

Paul snickered and sat down beside her, prompting Cindy to scooch away. He wasn't affected by this as he handed the fries over. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a can of soda. He presented it with an arched brow, Cindy took it.

"Might be a little warm."

"You sure you're okay missing out on a full meal?"

"Yeah, cause it seems like you missed out on two meals today."

"...Just have a big appetite."

"If you're fasting, maybe."

"...You calling me fat?"

"I'm not a priest, you don't have to confess anything."

Cindy grumbled and chomped the burger, "So, why are you here?"

"Other than wanting to take a walk on this fine day?"

"Are... Marie and Mr. Porter doing okay?"

"Fine. Harris is doing better now, I just gave him a job yesterday."

Remembering the events in the shipyard, Cindy felt the need to ask.

"I've been meaning to ask Har - Mr. Porter, but, I guess I'll ask you - what job does he have?"

"Well..." Paul paused, "He's had a... Mmm... Basically, he hasn't had it well since his wife left him. I'm here to make sure he still has a paycheck."

"Like... a handler?" Cindy said carefully, putting the pieces together and the possible connections of what was just said.

"A handler for odd jobs. Basically, the jobs that no one would like to do, or want to do, for that matter."

"Like what - unclogging sewers?"

"Ha - not really, they got tired of that..." Paul said, rubbing his neck, "But, yeah, along those lines. He's not good with computers, but he's good with his hands - currently, I got him a gig that involves installing internet cables."

Cindy was silent as she chewed the last of the burger, and after she took a sip of the soda, "Did... you ever give him jobs that were... questionable?"

"As in?" Cindy didn't like the look Paul was giving, something about it was intruding, especially the sudden change in his eyes - soft just a second ago, now hard with an edge.

Paul looked like an unassuming guy, brown hair in a sort of buzz cut - something likely done out of convention, a beard that wouldn't be the target of any fanciful ladies although neatly trimmed, the glasses he wore making him look like goofball even with the look of intelligence it gave him, the smile that he had made often during the conversation slid so easily onto his face making his look more like a jester at times. With his relaxed, possibly even lazy posture, this sudden sharpness put Cindy at edge -

But she played it cool, "Not saying anything, but, you make it sound like Mr. Porter doesn't have a stable job."

"Did I?" Paul arched a brow.

"Well, you did. And... I don't know his troubles, but you must send him on different jobs to keep his income stable enough. Anything... under-the-table? Beggars can't be choosers, after all."

"Hmm... And, if I did say I gave him those kinds of jobs?"

Cindy frowned, "Didn't I just say that beggars can't be choosers?"

Paul kept his dagger-like gaze for a moment before snickering, that same sudden changing again, "With an attitude like that, I guess you don't have many friends."

Cindy narrowed her eyes and scowled, "Bite me."

"Ha! Sure..." He drawled slightly, "I'll bite, why not? Yes. Yes, sometimes. Not everyone in this world is nice. There's a lot of jealous folk, hateful folk, even petty schmucks. Corrupt guys, ambitious guys. All the colors of the rainbow. I'm just here to offer opportunity to guys like Harris, guys that got bit by the unfairness of the world. Like you said, beggars can't be choosers, especially the woe-is-me's."

What Paul said about unfairness, made Cindy think about the unfairness of her own life.

She decapitated a few french fries before devouring the rest of their bodies, "Yeah..."

"So." Paul said, "What are you doing here?"

Cindy pursed her lip, then ate more fries, "...Got in a fight."

"You? With those glasses?"

"Yup." Cindy leaned back, crossing her legs, "A big one, against a guy."

"In a yell off or...?"

"In an actual fight!"

"Sure..."

"I did!"

"I guess David comes in many different sizes these days..."

"I even swept him off his feet, I swear to God!"

"Oh?"

"I did! I did!"

"Then what happened afterwards, did you win?"

Cindy shrunk, hunched, "No... I got him good, though."

"That doesn't matter, though. You lost. Oh, woes is the people that little David lost against Goliath..."

"Oh, shut up." Cindy pouted as she slurped her soda.

Paul chuckled, "You're adorable, like a little sister. Any family?"

Cindy looked at Paul, "...Why do you ask?"

Paul raised his hands, "Bad blood?"

Cindy nibbled on her fries, "...Not really. Why?"

"Just trying to make conversation. That so bad?"

"I don't even know you."

"People talk a lotta things when they're in good company, whether or not they just met or are good friends. In fact, I've spoke with a lot of people that blow off their steam without even realizing it. I'm a good listener, you know?"

"...Listener."

"Sometimes, that's all we need."

A moment of silence passed between the two. Out in the playground, kids were squealing in delight as they played with each other, their parents watching them on the side. A few parents worriedly watching, their kids being the much more active children - those shrilling louder, those sprinting at full speed as though their life depended on it, their were lives in their hands and were swinging it with gleeful abandon.

Hearing them, seeing them, Cindy was brought back to a few moments in her life, but one was always there.

"...I had an older brother."

Paul looked over.

Cindy continued, "...We... We were playing together one day... and..."

She paused for awhile,

Her hand gripped her tights, "...I was the reason he..." Pain gushed like rapids, the wound still fresh under the scab, Cindy found her face scrunching and tears brimming her eyes, "It was... I only..."

She jumped when he felt a hand touch her shoulder, she looked - it was Paul.

"Forcing yourself to accept what happened is not healthy. I reckon you haven't been faring well, at all. Holding things in, smiling and waving, looking okay, looking passable."

Cindy look at him, turning into a glare that couldn't penetrate Paul's armor, her emotions preventing its full sharpness. But more over, then and there -

"...I hate you."

"Cause I'm right? Remember my line of work? I've seen a lot of guys like you, hit a snag or rock and can't move on because life won't let them. You gotta get yourself over that hurdle, if its not already to big for you to climb."

Cindy wiped her tears, "Okay, Mr. Therapist. What do you suggest I do then?"

"Well, first things first - jumping head first into things and trying to accept whatever had happened too soon is not good for you at all. Open yourself up, let go, talk and meet other people. Get a new hobby even. Gotta distract your own mind to let its guard down, then, after it is, find the heart of the problem. Then start untangling it, little by little."

Cindy looked absently into the distance before getting up, finishing the fries and chugging the rest of the soda,
"Thanks. But I don't have to do what you said."

"You will. People like you always do. You're keeping yourself from becoming better. Just do it already."

Cindy looked at Paul in the eye before walking off. Not liking Paul one bit, even if what he said was true.