Double Life

The news of Tony Stark's dramatic return after being rescued from terrorists was like a shockwave rippling through the city. For a few days, it was the only story playing across every news channel and trending on social media.

I remember watching with a sort of detached fascination as the iconic billionaire strode up to the podium at a staged Stark Industries press conference. His appearance was still haggard, the aftereffects of his horrific captivity weighing heavily in the gamut of shadows beneath his eyes.

"I had a chance to re-evaluate what I'd helped create for this company," Stark said in a voice tinged with grim resolution. "And I realised that I didn't want a future where Stark Industries manufactures mass casualties any longer."

There was a stunned silence as the gravity of his words sank in. Then, the assembled press corps erupted in a frenzy of flashing cameras and shouted questions. But Stark just held up a hand, his gaze steely.

"Effective immediately, Stark Industries will no longer manufacture or deal in any weaponized munitions, armaments, or WMD technologies. Our future will be dedicated to sustainable energy initiatives and technological innovations that help make people's lives better, not take them away."

As Stark's bombshell announcement dominated headlines and sent shockwaves through the international arms dealing community, I found my own life taking an unexpected turn in the form of a slew of emails from major gaming studios and publishers.

It seemed word of my surprise hit "Sugar Rush" game had spread like wildfire. Now, every multinational interactive entertainment conglomerate wanted a piece of the pie—either to outright purchase the rights and IP or to initiate an acquisition and bring me on as a contracted developer. 

Most of the offers were frankly insulting, representing blatant attempts to snatch up my profitable creation for pennies on the dollar. I systematically ignored and denied each and every low-ball proposal without a second thought.

However, one particular contract did give me pause. A relatively new but incredibly well-funded independent studio called Aurum Games came through with an aggressive but fair pitch:

They would help me massively expand and market Sugar Rush across all major digital storefronts and platforms, pouring ample developer resources into continuous refinements and improvements. I would retain full creative control and IP rights by simply contracting with Aurum on a per-project publishing basis.

In exchange, Aurum would take an 80% revenue cut but wanted to formally sign me on as an elite developmental partner. That meant continuing to collaborate deeply on any and all future game concepts, with an enticing 10% profit-sharing split coming my way.

It was...tempting, to say the least. The money being offered was hardly chump change. And yet, something about the prospect of shackling myself to a corporate entity, even an ostensibly benevolent one, deeply unsettled me.

Still, my curiosity was piqued enough that I agreed to take a preliminary meeting with Aurum's designated agent, one Jessie White, who would be handling negotiations on behalf of the company's leadership.

The next afternoon, I found myself settling into a quiet corner booth at a trendy coffee house near campus. I nursed a latte idly, already regretting giving up part of my Sunday when the petite, stylishly dressed blonde woman arrived.

"You must be Alice Lewis," Jessie said brightly as she slid into the booth, all breezy energy and ingratiating smiles. "It's such a pleasure to finally meet the indie wunderkind behind one of the biggest viral gaming hits in years!"

Something about the saccharine delivery and wide, appraising look she gave me immediately rubbed me the wrong way. I simply shrugged one shoulder dismissively. 

"Nice to meet you, Miss Jessie White."

Jessie's overly bright smile dimmed somewhat as she clearly picked up on my reticence and dug into her briefcase.

"Well then, Miss Alice, let's get right down to brass tacks. I'm sure you've had a chance to look over Aurum's proposal?" She began spreading out documents and prototypes across the table. 

"I'll be honest, the bosses are extremely high on the early data metrics for your Sugar Rush IP. They see massive, massive potential to really make it a global-level flagship if we apply the right resources and marketing muscle..."

I let Jessie's animated pitch wash over me for a few minutes, only half-listening as I studied her mannerisms and body language intently. There was something about her perfectly practiced corporate veneer that set me on edge. An underlying sense of desperation, maybe? Or some other subtle tells that spoke to deeper motives simmering beneath the shiny sales pattern?

"...and of course, we're open to renegotiating some of the finer points of the contract," Jessie was saying, clearly trying to gauge my level of engagement. "Say...an even bigger slice of the revenue pie? Showcase billing as Aurum's premier developmental partner across all"

"Thirty percent," I said abruptly, cutting her off with steely directness. "I want thirty percent of any and all profits across the board. For this game, any future iterations or sequels, anything."

Jessie blinked, visibly taken aback by my blunt counter-demand and apparent lack of interest in entertaining any lesser terms. To her credit, she recovered quickly with a bemused chuckle.

"Well! I can certainly respect a no-nonsense negotiator who knows her own worth..." Her smile turned just a bit tighter as she eyed me with newfound appraisal. "But principals at HQ will want a hell of a convincing sell to justify that big an ask. Especially for a...pardon my saying...fairly snail-scalr game like Sugar Rush."

She tilted her head expectantly, clearly waiting for me to plead my case further and prove the full scope of my creative and entrepreneurial talents. Rather than fold under the mild condescension, I simply squared my shoulders and met her gaze flatly.

"You're right, Sugar Rush is pretty basic in scope," I stated in a tone of total certainty. "But it was just my first effort—a test run, really. What if I told you I was already well into developing my next project?"

I dug into my own satchel without breaking eye contact, withdrawing a battered laptop and powering it on. Within moments, I'd pulled up a rendered video prelim for something I'd begun tinkering on—a lightning-paced endless runner game set...on a thrillingly surreal interpretation of public transit railways. 

Jessie leaned in despite herself, clearly captivated as a stylized 3D character sprinted across the roofs of careening subway trains, wall-running through tunnels, and deftly evading all manner of obstacles and hazards with acrobatic aplomb. 

"I call it Subway Surfer," I said by way of casual introduction. "And it's just the tip of the iceberg of what I have brewing in my mind. I just didn't game much time, but I also plan for a massive online game that will be more epic than any other game if you give me 1-2 years and also some partners."

When Jessie's stunned gaze finally flicked back up to meet mine, I knew I had her full, undivided attention at last. Clearly, my talents as a creative and developmental visionary were not to be underestimated.

Which put the negotiating advantage firmly in my court at last, a fact we both tacitly understood going forward.

"Thirty percent," I reiterated with the barest hint of a confident smile.

This was far more than just silly online games and corporate dealings. With one bold demand, I had taken my first true step towards realising my true legacy in this strange new world.

The next day,

I was trying to pay attention in class, but my mind kept wandering about the contract, as it was postponed for next week because they need to discuss something between them, and I also need a guardian who will look over the contract. Suddenly, the discrete earpiece I wore to monitor police channels responded with an urgent alert.

"All units, structure fire at the Greenwood Apartments on 145th. Multiple civilians were trapped, requesting all available response teams."

My heart kicked into overdrive as I shot upright, raising my hand. "Uh, miss? Can I be excused to the restroom?"

Without waiting for a response, I was already grabbing my things and rushing out into the hallway. Finding a secluded alcove, I quickly shed my civilian clothes to reveal my sleek Ghost Spider suit underneath. 

In a matter of seconds, I'd activated my camouflage, rendering myself invisible before firing off an anchoring line and shooting up through the roof access hatch. Moments later, I was swinging at breakneck speed across the city skyline towards the coordinates of the raging inferno.

When I arrived, the scene was chaos—thick plumes of smoke billowing from the upper floors as terrified residents clung to windows and fire escapes. Wasting no time, I disengaged my camo field and propelled myself straight into the maelstrom.

Guided by my suit's thermal optics, I rapidly located and evacuated over a dozen trapped civilians, punching through searing debris with enhanced strength to clear paths to safety. At one point, part of the ceiling gave way, raining rubble down towards a cowering child and his horrified parents.

Without hesitation, I interposed myself, shielding the family with my body as a steel support beam lanced straight through my midsection. White-hot agony lanced through me, but I grunted and remained steadfast until the wreckage settled.

"Ghost Spider! You're injured; we need to get you medical—" one of the rescue personnel began as they rushed over.

But I was already straightening up, waving them off irritably as my mutant healing factor rapidly started knitting the grievous wound.

"Save it! I'm fine - just get these people clear!" I barked out in a digitally modulated tone, shooing the stunned family towards the gathering first responders.

Ignoring their incredulous looks, I bound away into the smoke and chaos once more, resolved to ensure not a single life was lost before the blaze was contained.

Some indeterminable time later, I finally limped back in through the side access of Midtown High's gym locker area. A quick infrared sweep confirmed no one was around as I peeled off the Spider-suit, examining the sluggishly closing puncture in my abdomen.

Grabbing a towel, I hastily wiped away the worst of the blood and viscera, slapping on some gauze before pulling a fresh set of clothes over my undergarments. With any luck, I could slip back into the rest of the classroom day without too many questions.

I really should have been more careful, though. As I exited the locker room's bathroom, still topless and securing the makeshift bandages, a familiar figure suddenly stepped around the corner. 

"Well, well...what do we have, he—ohhhmy," Felicia Hardy's teasing lilt faltered as she got an eyeful of my bare, sweat-slicked torso and makeshift injury dressings.

Normally, I would have scrambled for decency's sake. But between the lingering adrenaline crash and bone-deep fatigue settling in, I simply stood there numbly, letting her emerald eyes roam over me in a frank appraisal.

"My, someone's been having some fun while the rest of us sat around being bored academics, haven't they?" Felicia purred, slowly circling me with undisguised interest. "Who knew you were hiding such...delicious definition beneath those baggy clothes?"

I tensed despite myself as she reached out to boldly trace the defined musculature of my abdominals with one fingertip. Her touch was electrifying, raising goosebumps along my skin.

"You really are just full of surprises, aren't you, Alice?" She mused, that dangerous twinkle dancing in her gaze once more. "My my, such a delightfully toned little wildcat hiding in plain sight..."

There was a weighted pause as we simply stared at one another, the air almost crackling with unspoken tension and secrets swirling between us. For a moment, I could have sworn Felicia's eyes seemed to bore straight through me, as if she could somehow sense the untamed power coiling just beneath my surface.

Then, just like that, the spell was broken. Felicia leaned back with a wink and an exaggerated stretch.

"Well! I'd best not keep you from getting decent again. Although..." She traced a fingertip along her plump lower lip coyly. "I certainly wouldn't mind another private showing like this sometime, tigress."

With a final, searing look, she brushed past me and sauntered away, leaving me to stand there and wonder just what other secrets I might struggle to keep concealed going forward.

Especially from someone as cunning and perceptive as Felicia Hardy. Somehow, I got the feeling this wasn't going to be the last time she inched a little too close to the hidden truth about my double life.