SCHOOL, JOB AND TROUBLES (I)

Vincent woke up to the dull light of morning filtering through half-closed blinds, his head throbbing slightly from last night's party.

Blinking against the sunlight, he took a moment to realize where he was, home.

Three houses down from Peter's.

He rubbed his eyes and surveyed his place. The living room was a mess. Empty takeout cartons and clothes were strewn across chairs and the floor, random things littering the surfaces, unbothered by any sense of organization.

And yet, the furniture itself was new, sturdy, maybe even a bit stylish, not that he cared much about that.

The only corner he did care about?

His little gym setup on the far side of the room.

Dumbbells and weights were stacked in a row, a pull-up bar jutting from the doorway, an exercise mat rolled up in the corner.

It was a sparse setup, but enough for him.

With a sigh, Vincent pushed himself off the bed and trudged over to the kitchen, flipping on the light.

A quick workout, he decided.

Nothing fancy.

Just something to shake off the grogginess.

A few sets in, he grabbed a quick shower, letting the cold water clear his head, and then threw on some sweats before heading to the kitchen to fix breakfast.

An omelette, toast, and coffee. Simple but enough to keep him going.

As he sipped his coffee, he picked up the remote, intending to switch on Discovery Channel, something calm to start the day with.

But the TV blinked to life on a news channel, and instantly his image flashed across the screen

Vincent's face twisted as he read the words.

"'F*ck the Merlin, I'm from Blue Planet': Mystery Figure Leaves New York in Shock. Are We Dealing with an Alien Threat?"

The footage showed a shaky clip of him during the fight with Abomination, only it was sped up and zoomed in, each movement scrutinized as if he were some kind of monster.

His jaw clenched as the female anchor's voice spoke over the footage.

"This unidentified figure defeated the Abomination in a manner that has authorities concerned. Some claim he's an alien, while others suggest he may be an experiment gone wrong."

The anchor's tone was thick with exaggerated dread.

A witness, now filling the screen, looked both terrified and eager.

"I saw him, right there! Took down that monster like it was nothing. But the way he moved... it wasn't human. He looked almost like... like he could shift forms. He..he..he.. said he was from a different world. Blue Planet, he called it. I think he's hiding something. Maybe something dangerous."

Vincent let out a dry laugh. Shape-shifting? From another world? His comment had been a spur-of-the-moment joke, nothing more.

But here they were, already twisting it into some kind of conspiracy.

He switched channels, but the next station was no better.

"Is this the second coming of biggot like Iron Man? Or something far darker?"

The reporter's eyes were wide with feigned concern.

"Witnesses describe him as a masked figure with no fear, who left the scene before police could question him. And his words? 'He had the halo like clock behind him'? What's that supposed to mean? This doesn't sound like a hero to me, it's devil."

Vincent exhaled, half annoyed, half amused, he switched channel, until a new face filled the screen---J. Jonah Jameson.

"In my opinion, the last thing New York needs is another vigilante! A mystery man who can kill at will, who may even have alien connections, and thinks he can just waltz into the city, doing as he pleases."

"We don't know who or what he is, and I'm not about to trust a masked freak with our safety. Are we supposed to ignore the fact that he's playing god in our streets?"

Jameson's words lit a fire under him.

They had no idea who he was, no concept of what he'd done last night, sacrificing his own sense of normalcy to stop that creature.

Playing god?

All he'd done was prevent a disaster, and here they were, painting him as some threat.

He switched off the TV, gripping his coffee mug tightly.

The absurdity of it all---alien?

Masked freak?

They didn't even have the decency to consider the good he'd done, to think beyond their own fear and paranoia.

But then, maybe that was just human nature.

The quiet was broken by a sharp knock at his door. Vincent set down his coffee, moving toward the door with a weary anticipation. He knew exactly who it was.

Peter stood on the other side, a smirk on his face. "So, alien from Blue Planet, huh?" He lifted his phone, showing the headlines splashed across the screen. "Didn't know you were this famous."

Vincent rolled his eyes, stepping back to let him in.

"If by famous, you mean a walking target for every paranoid reporter, then sure."

Peter walked in, glancing at the mess around him.

"I didn't think you'd care what they were saying. You didn't seem too worried last night when you were blasting the Abomination halfway across the city."

Vincent leaned against the wall, folding his arms.

"Haha! Of course...I don't care. But they're not just saying it,they're making stuff up, Peter. Witnesses claiming I shapeshifted, reporters screaming about me like I'm some weapon of mass destruction. It's ridiculous."

Peter shook his head, looking mildly entertained. "You did say you were from the 'Blue Planet'. Guess they're not wrong about that part."

Vincent's face was serious, his gaze sharp. "It was just a line from yellow literature. I wasn't expecting them to turn it into a conspiracy theory."

Peter snorted, barely suppressing a laugh.

"Welcome to New York. They'll make a story out of anything."

Vincent sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"I'm not about to play hero for their cameras. I did what I had to do, and if they want to spin it, fine. But don't expect me to just accept this... 'alien vigilante' label."

Peter put a hand on his shoulder, his smirk fading. "Hey, at least you're anonymous. You wore a mask and wig. They don't know it's you."

Vincent's face softened slightly. "Yeah. They don't. And I intend to keep it that way. Let's just get to school, before they add 'truants' to the list of things they think I am."

Soon they walked out, Vincent took one last glance at his reflection in the window. A faceless threat, that's what he was to them. But if that's what it took to do what needed to be done, he'd live with it.

For now let's go to the school.