SCHOOL, JOB AND TROUBLES(II)

Midtown School of Science and Technology.

315 East 15th Street.

Queens, New York City.

---

Vincent pushed open the school doors, the sound of his boots ringing against the floor as he stepped inside. His black coat swished around his legs, the heavy fabric brushing against his thick boots. His hair was slightly spiked, clearly done with the cheapest Walmart gel he could find, but that didn't matter. He didn't need to look perfect. His presence was all that counted.

By now, the whispers followed him in hallway like a shadow.

"That's him."

"You know, the guy with the creep blue eyes."

"Who does he think he is?"

"I heard, he molested a new girl"

Vincent ignored them. It wasn't new and It didn't matter.

Peter, meanwhile, wasn't even fazed by it. He knew Vincent better than most, knew there was a kindness under that rough exterior.

But at school? Vincent's reputation was practically tanked. To some, he was a thug; to others, a straight-up devil.

Teachers, on the other hand, saw him as a troublemaker with just enough charm to stay out of real trouble.

Peter was a few steps behind, dragging his feet, clearly trying to catch up.

"Man, you sure know how to make an entrance," Peter asked, in amusement and disbelief.

Vincent didn't spare him a glance.

"I don't make entrances, Parker. I am the entrance."

"Wow, a guy with powers acting like a six-year-old," Peter laughed, shaking his head with a smirk.

Soon they passed a group of freshmen, they froze, eyes wide, mouths slightly open, unsure whether they should speak or stay silent.

Vincent's lips curled up into a smirk. "No need to look so surprised, kids. I'm not here for your admiration."

A voice broke through the tension before anyone else could say a word.

"P--peter! Happy New Year!"

Vincent's attention snapped toward the voice.

Gorgeous Red-haired beauty, Mary Jane Watson.

She leaned casually against the locker, a wide, warm smile plastered on her face, one that felt completely out of place in the grey, lifeless hallway.

Her green eyes, bright like spring leaves, shimmered with a spark of life, and her freckled cheeks flushed with a warmth that seemed to radiate from somewhere far brighter than this.

She wore a fitted red jacket that hugged her slender frame, paired with skinny jeans that clung to her long legs like they were made for them.

In short, she was a goddess in the hearts of many puberty-sickened boys.

But in her eyes, there was only Peter.

Vincent, who knew about her from his previous life, had never liked her character. He was already concerned that this girl would betray his friend in the future, and it was strange to think someone like her could ever truly like Peter. Men like him were always the second choice.

Maybe it was because Peter in this world wasn't some pushover. No, this Peter was different, handsome, stronger, more confident than the one known in movies and comics. And now, Mary Jane of this world was chasing him, ignoring the other rich, preppy kids she would've drooled over before.

Still, that didn't make her Vincent's favorite.

In fact, he couldn't shake the thought that she might break Peter's heart, just like she did in the original timeline.

The cold light in his eyes flickered with concern.

Peter, of course, grinned back like she'd just handed him the keys to the kingdom.

"Happy New Year, MJ," he said with light and carefree voice.

But Vincent could see how she was fidgeting, her hands nervously adjusting the strap of her bag.

Truth to be told, She wasn't nervous because of Peter.

No, she was nervous because of him. Vincent Valentine.

The guy who could make the ground feel like it was about to give way beneath your feet. Mary Jane still remembered the days when Vincent had scolded her for getting too close to Peter.

At that time, she'd genuinely thought Vincent was gay, someone who might have a thing for Peter. If not for his obvious affection for Mrs. Susan Storm, she had actually believed it.

Nonetheless, Mary Jane turned to Vincent too, offering him a polite, but clearly forced, smile. "Happy New Year, Vincent." Her voice was tentative, careful like she didn't want to say the wrong thing.

Vincent tilted his head, a sly smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. "You don't have to look like I'm about to eat you alive," he said, while his eyes gazed on her, watching the way her body tensed and her eyes dropped to the floor.

"No..no..I'm fine," she spoke quickly. "Peter, I need to talk to you... It's good to meet you, Vincent."

"You sure about that?" Vincent added, taking a step closer, watching her face turn pale. "You look like you might faint, MJ. I'm not that scary, am I?"

Mary Jane's eyes widened, and she took a step back, stammering.

"I-I didn't mean-! I just wanted to talk to Peter..."

Vincent's grin widened. "Talk to Peter?" He raised an eyebrow. "What do you need to talk to him for? You can always talk to me. I don't torture people… well, not unless you're into that."

Mary Jane looked as if she was about to melt into the floor.

"No, no! I'm really only here to talk to Peter! I swear!"

Peter didn't fully understand why Vincent had such an issue with MJ, but he couldn't deny the way his heart skipped whenever she spoke to him. Maybe people were right, first love was like a miracle, a quiet force that changed you completely, filling you with a love

Peter stepped in, his hand going to Mary Jane's shoulder, pulling her back a little. "Hey, relax. He's just messing with you, alright?" He shot Vincent a quick look, a silent warning.

Vincent held up his hands in mock surrender, but his smirk didn't fade. "Relax, it's all good." His voice was teasing, but there was a sharpness behind it. "I'm not gonna hurt anyone, MJ. Not unless they give me a reason to."

Mary Jane gave him one last wary glance before hurriedly turning her attention back to Peter. "Let's just go," she whispered, already moving away.

Vincent watched them leave, his smirk twisting into something darker, almost amused.

"Yeah, get the hell out of here,Leaving your friend for some girl... Pathetic."

"Hey bro, You're such an bully," came Ned's voice from behind him, pulling Vincent out of his self-satisfied haze.

Vincent turned to see Ned near a locker, looking far more fit than he used to. Ned had always been the bigger guy, the one who didn't really know how to handle himself, but that had changed.

Vincent's influence had rubbed off on him, and now Ned stood tall, shoulders broad, more confident. Still, that didn't stop him from giving Vincent crap.

Vincent gave him a sideways glance, the smirk still playing at the corner of his lips. "What can I say? She looked like she needed a reason to freak out. Figured I'd give it to her."

Ned rolled his eyes. "You're impossible. You know, you could be... I dunno, nicer sometimes."

Vincent chuckled darkly, shaking his head. "You can't fix what isn't broken, my guy."

"Right, because scaring the crap out of people is totally working for you." Ned leaned forward, arms crossed.

"Fuck you, fatty."

"At least I'm not still a virgin, bro and I'm no longer fat."

"You are a pig"

"Not a virginnnn... at leeeast"

One disastrous thing that happened because of his influence was that somehow, Ned ended up dating the school beauty, Liz Allen, who had just broken up with flash. God knows what kind of card he pulled to make that happen. Even worse, ever since, he'd been calling both Peter and Vincent virgins.

On the other hand, Vincent didn't really care about Liz, "Yeah, well, good luck with that, hope you can handle flash,"

"Hey, bro, sorry, but there's one thing I gotta know, did your powers just evolve? How the hell did you lift that monster? Hey, hey, Vincent! And what's the deal with the media?" Ned followed closely behind him, clearly itching to ask about the chaos Vincent caused with the Abomination.

Ned, of course, knew all about Vincent's powers, he was his best friend like Peter, the one most obsessed with the strange, unbelievable shit Vincent could do.

After talking with Ned, Vincent strolled toward the classroom, his mood far from ready for the school day. The usual chaos of students rushing through the hallways only fueled his frustration, the noise and movement grating on him with every step.

Just as he was about to open the classroom door, bam! He collided with something soft, or rather, someone.

A blonde girl.

"Shit," Vincent said, his body jolting back slightly. He looked down, and there she was, Gwen Stacy.

"Uh, what the hell, Valentine? You looking to get your face punched? Watch where you're putting your hands! Pervert! Creep! Bastard!" Gwen snapped, taking a few steps back, her anger flaring.

Even in her frustration, her beauty was undeniable, like a storm brewing, captivating everyone in her path.

Her blonde hair, usually tied back in a ponytail, now flowed freely over her shoulders, giving her a carefree, rebellious edge.

She wore a fitted black leather jacket over a loose white top, skinny blue jeans that clung to her legs, and boots that clicked sharply with each step.

She was stunningly hot, no doubt about it.

"Whoops, my bad. How was I supposed to know you were heading out? Just a mistake," Vincent said, his tone casual and unapologetic.

Gwen shot him a glare. "Yeah, right. Guys like you always mess with women and then play it off like it was an accident."

She didn't know why, but every time she crossed paths with Vincent, her heart fluttered, something about him getting under her skin. It frustrated her, made her angry, but also stirred something else, something she couldn't quite name.

Even if it was probably just a mistake, she still felt the urge to make a scene, to lash out. It was her defense mechanism, a way to hold onto the chaos of her inappropriate thoughts.

Soon...

The hallway buzzed with murmurs as the collision between Vincent and Gwen caught everyone's attention.

"Shit, Vincent's at it again," one student said, eyes fixed on the scene. "Poor Gwen."

"Yeah, looks like the devil's back, why don't he just disappears," another sneered, watching with amusement.

On the other hand,

Vincent's frown deepened, irritation sparking in his chest, but what really set him off was how damn rude Gwen was being.

"What's your problem, Gwen?"

"I said it was an accident. Or do you want me to show you how I handle things when they're intentional?"

Gwen's eyes flared with anger, a sneer tugging at her lips.

"Bullshit," she spat, stepping closer. "I know guys like you. You just want to cop a feel and pretend it's an accident."

"Haha! what exactly am I supposed to 'feel'? You're practically an airport, Gwen."

He smirked, the comment meant to hit hard.

Her eyes narrowed, and she took a step forward, fury boiling inside her.

"Shut up, you offspring of Snoop Dogg," she shot back. "Don't act like I don't see you puffing up your chest like you're some big shot. And stop smoking weed in the daytime, it's not cool."

Vincent's grin widened, but there was no amusement in it. "I'm not the one who's got too much attitude, Gwen. But it's cute how you think you've got me all figured out."

Gwen's fists clenched at her sides, her whole body tense with anger.

"You're the last person who should talk about attitude," she hissed. "You're the one who practically ran into me, and now you're acting like I'm the one in the wrong. You've got some nerve, pervy creep."

Ned had been stood off to the side, watching the whole thing unfold with a worried expression. But when he noticed the other students' eyes on Vincent with judgment in the air, he decided to step in.

"Hey, come on, guys," Ned said, raising his hands to calm things down. "How about you chill out a bit? I don't think it's Vincent's fault."

Gwen and Vincent shot back in unison, their voices laced with frustration, as if the last thing they needed was a mediator.

"Shut up!"

"___"

Ned's face twisted in defeat, but he wasn't backing down entirely.

"Alright, alright. Just saying… maybe let's not turn this into a show"