2 Chapter Two
Obligatory Disclaimer : I do not own anything (except maybe OC characters) all characters, places, worlds, universes…etc mentioned here belong to their respective owners and/or companies.
This is purely a work of fiction. Not meant to offend or incite, but to entertain and (maybe) inspire.
BREATHE MUCH
There is nothing new under the sun.
"Fuu!" I awoke with a hiss, my body felt sore and tender, my bottom lip was raw, the cut inside of it stung whenever I put my tongue to it. I get up, crack my neck and begin stretching, pain is relative, it is a voice, listen but don't let it take you.
After stretching came the shower, I scrubbed myself clean and disinfected my bruises with rubbing alcohol and applied Neosporin over them. Brushing my teeth was a painful ball game that had to be done, the bruises on my body I could hide with a long sleeve but the one on my jaw was going nowhere.
Lucky for me no one who could do anything about it would care. Not my very underpaid and overworked teachers anyway.
I wore my favorite black jeans—the faded denim my mother got me for my birthday. They were comfy and durable and had a good amount of pockets. I then threw on a blue pair of long sleeves over a white undervest and got to my off white converse kicks. I looked handsome, no lie.
My backpack was already loaded with everything I'd need. I left my room and trudged down the stairs.
"Ma, I'm off." I said to the woman who vacuumed, I didn't want to hear her reply, I didn't want to see her face but "Stay safe, and please be good." Her eyes held too much love for me to cast aside. I try to but I don't have the cruelty in me to hurt my parents. I grabbed my lunch from the kitchen counter and near fled the house.
Edward would be upstairs sleeping or nursing an alcohol induced headache, perhaps also a bit of a guilty conscience. Maybe he'd be sorry for how hard he treated his only son, but that was just my wishful thought. I like to think of myself as a man of understanding—on certain occasions—I know it's difficult for someone like Edward to express love, he probably had a rough upbringing, he mentions bits and pieces of it, a boy growing up in a section 8 household must have truly been hard but just because I understood it did not mean I condoned it.
Man must strive for improvement, Edward could always improve if he wanted to. Just like I did, I wasn't born a super genius, that did little to stop him from learning and acquiring vital knowledge over a variety of fields. I wasn't born an athlete but that didn't stop me from conditioning myself.
He could learn to be a better father if he wanted to.
The rays of the morning sunlight were a golden yellow that brought life and a revitalizing warmth, the rays soaked the clean streets, the well trimmed, viridian grass that stretched endlessly with the smooth gray cement pavement all the way to the horizon. I smiled and waved a good morning to neighbors who left for their jobs; walking out of other two or three bedroom houses that were mirror images of my parents', each bisected by the ash sidewalk or the coal black tarmac that went down to forever.
The yellow bus came to a squeaking halt at the sign to my left, they needed to get the brakes replaced. The doors hissed open, I stepped into the steel confines of the vehicle, it felt like the throat of a metal monster filled with other parasites that looked like me. The stench within ranged from a subtle sweet cinnamon—breakfast still on the lips of some, the overpowering aroma of fruity perfumes and the punch of deodorant to hide body odors.
There was a story about a woman who pretended to be a teen to sneak into highschools and middleschools, a sick fuck she was, not for how perverted and depraved the act was but for just how much torture she sought in wanting to go back to sitting in a class with teenagers? To hearing their uninformed opinions at any given moment? Why anyone would willingly subject themselves to their presence baffles me.
Eyes and smiles were thrown my way. By this world's beauty standards, I was handsome, truly so. My parents were spectacular physical specimens, Edward was a man who sold his smiles, my mother was a beauty who put shame to roses, I was them both combined; a delectable sight for eyes.
"Alex, over here!" Liz Allen, the Asian cheerleader, whose father might or might not be the vulture, gestured me over, she was seated at the back of the bus—the cool kids spot.
On seats to her left was Flash Thompson, blond haired blue-eyed dream boy, who had his log of an arm on Mary Jane's shoulder. Let me tell you about MJ, let me explain just how beautiful this girl looks.
If this is a world where people look like models, MJ is the angel upon which their beauty is inspired, her smile is the sun shining down upon a field of green, her eyes are the calm ocean, her hair is a flowing river of horse blood. She reminds me of the unreality of my reality, you obviously know a person cannot look this good and yet they are. How could Parker not be head over heels for her? How is a young man like him or anyone else to help themselves?
I wanted to despise her; she was too perfect. There's something more to that image, cracks under the surface that would swallow us whole once we stared long enough. It should leave me unsettled; but I'd already stared at death, I'd fallen to the endless embrace of the unknown, what is fear? She smiled, the sun shining, easy, smooth, effortless. I squinted and smiled back, empty. There is nothing for her light in me.
Her fingers brush my knees as I walk past. Her eyes, those unreal blue things, pull me like the sun pulls earth. It doesn't matter what I think I know or should know from the comics or movies, this is not an innocent naïve girl, this isn't anyone's angel, this isn't a helpless damsel, she's a sharp blade under the thin veneer of a beautiful painting. I've been cut by her once already.
"Coming ma'am." I say loud to Liz. I fist-bumped Flash, sharing a "what's up" with him and sat next to Liz.
Liz Allen, half Asian, half white, jet black straight hair on a face lacking fat. She looked almost like an actress, as though she would grow into her role. She locked my arm, and assumed we were dating or such. She was seeing me but I wasn't seeing her. I didn't reject her advances because unlike my grandstanding, I am a bloody hypocrite who isn't as righteous as I present myself to be.
Liz planted her wet lips on mine. It burned; the bruise was still raw, the taste of ripe cherries clung to my mouth.
"Missed me?" I grinned, tight.
"You know I did baby." She beamed, pulling closer.
"What happeneeeed?" She pulled the word, as though lengthening it gave it more emphasis. Her thin fingers caressed my face and cheek, she smelled like fresh cut raspberry, sweet and tart.
"Tripped on the stairs last night." I made it short, and sat close enough to rest her head on my shoulder.
"My pweedy baby." She held my face.
"Yeah sure" I whispered.
"Huh?"
"I'm fine luv, don't worry about it." I smiled, it wasn't enough but she had the presence of mind to know not to ask. I thank God we were seniors about to graduate.
She began to talk, telling me of what she'd been going through. Something about trying to be the captain of the cheerleaders or such. I just hummed and ahh'ed my way through it. Letting her vent, she'd let me vent later if her parents weren't home. Me and her, venting, sweating, venting as much as possible.
Bang! Bang! Bang! "Please wait for me!" Jeers and laughter rang through the bus. There's only one person I knew who could be this wronged and still be kind, the one person that was the reason why I transferred over the Midtown High, why I suffered myself with these fucking teenagers and their microcosm of faux politics that was highschool.
Bang! Bang! "Hey, stop the bus!" Peter Parker, bark brown hair, innocent hazel eyes magnified through his thick glasses, huffed and yelled as he ran along the bus, sweat stained his face and shirt.
I wasn't his friend. I couldn't be, associating with the boy bore the risk of altering his trajectory. He had to suffer the bullying and the pain and the agony because that is who he is, he suffers and still keeps going, inspiring hope and faith in all things good. I am not that type of person, I am a corrupting touch that aims to give back more than I get. I would influence him by association.
He was my first and most assured ticket to obtaining a superpower, I wasn't his friend like I wasn't the friend of my kitchen knife, screwdriver or sneakers. All I had to do was wait and watch. I was there for every excursion and school trip, always near him, always in his peripheral, waiting for the spider to show up. I have a feeling it's today.
Bang! "Please!" Bang! Bang! "please stop the bus!"
It would be if we don't leave him behind, Parker was looking tired already and the bus was speeding up. Does this guy not know he'd get fired as a driver if Parker made a report. He probably did, but just didn't care. Parker wasn't the outspoken type and the school wouldn't fire a bus driver over this, it'd take work and money; the things schooling staffs weren't made up of.
"I'll be back." I say to Liz. I head up and to the front of the bus where the driver chuckled watching Parker run in his side mirror. I lean in close enough for a whisper "Will you stop the fucking bus." I'm not a bullied kid, I know where to push. "I will make you lose your job and sue you for every fucking penny you have you fat piece of shit. Do you know who my father is?" The bus stops.
"Prick." The driver mutters as I walk back to my seat.
"Thank huff you huff!" Parker says through hungry breaths to the same person that made him suffer, the driver.
"Go sit down, Parker." One of the teens hollered as they resumed their conversations with the bus finally moving. He quickly finds a seat to plop into and maintains that fucking nice smile, that everything will be alright smile. I can never be his friend, he is humanity's hope, a good man, a genuinely good person. Why would I ever try to fuck that up?
MJ beams at me again, it is subtle, unnoticed by her boyfriend and best friend. I do not like her.
"Why'd you help that dork out?" Flash points at me. Corny? Not yet, this is the 2000s, this is how people-teenagers, sometimes, talk here, I'm aware but by all that is holy, it is cringy.
"Go ask him." I point back. Since when did I answer to a teenager? Since when do I explain myself to this overgrown sperm cell? Violence with my dad is a story, violence with people like Flash is a different one. Outside of my parents I am an entirely cruel individual when it comes to returning pain. A master at utilizing the art of wickedness and violence, a true expert.
Flash looks me in the eye, he knows, he's seen me do it before, he knows fully well I am capable of doing it again, he knows I will do it again and with ample eagerness. He shakes his head and says "Whatever." Good for him, cause there's this anger burning in my chest and I can't wait to give it to somebody else.
"You're being a dick." Liz nudged me.
"Sure."
She rolled her eyes at my response. I kept my eyes locked on Parker's back. That kid was my ticket.
*.*.*.*
AN: What do you think so far?
I'm finding it more and more interesting. There is a structure to it all, but nothing is truly rigid. Plan, plan, plan until you get punched in the face. The story progresses, we see more characters and we see his interactions with them.
MJ, I personally like her. She's a real one that stands by the boy parker through it all. Raimi MJ, not so much, for all she did to my boy. Yet these are characters I hold dear from my childhood, despite their failings, theyer endearing due to their humanity. This story's MJ was heavily inspired by the Raimi one but also with elements from the comics.
These characters, I try to make them real, motivations, flaws, likes, dislikes, to make them tick. This is a different world, not the mcu, not the ultimate universe, not the 616 prime, it's combined and different. Let's enjoy it but i must be clear:
This is fiction, I write for the reader, because for someone to give you their time and attention, I believe you must reward them with equal value and respect. I am not perfect my friends, I am but a student of life learning as I go so forgive my errors and mistakes, chalk it up to the intrinsic imperfection of my humanity. I will give you my best, all I can when I can. So I truly hope you enjoyed this chapter. And like I said before like if you do, fave and save the story if you enjoyed it, leave a comment or review if you have thoughts, words, or love to throw to your favorite author.
Till next time, Rain (the best ever) away!
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