Peter Parker was having a good day. He managed to stop a few burglaries here and there, stop some goons from getting a little too friendly with a girl and had a few run ins with the Falcone family who were easily dispatched off. Not to mention he got an A plus in all his tests beat both Dick and Barbara by a half mark and he was invited to meet Bruce Wayne himself at Wayne Manor the following weekend. Things were looking good, very good and when things are going way too good for him, that’s when life always manages to pull the rug from underneath Peter.

The door was unlocked which caused a cold feeling in Peter’s gut. He remembered his apartment door being unlocked when his Uncle was shot. He remembered the flashing red and blue lights bouncing off the peeled off plaster of the apartment hallway, he remembered Aunt May crying into her hands, a blanket draped over her back and he remembered the kind commissioner giving him warm words of advice that fell through deaf ears cause the only thing Peter was feeling at the time was pure unbridled rage, rage he had never felt before.

Peter was glad to see it wasn’t anything that intense. The creaky door of the apartment squealed open and sitting on one of the sofas was the land-lord.

“I’m sorry about your loss, Mrs. Parker,” the land-lord said, his voice sympathetic. “I really am but please understand that if you don’t pay the rent, I’m afraid we’re going to have to evict you and your nephew.”

Peter was at the doorway so they hadn’t noticed him coming in yet. Uncle Ben used to be the breadwinner of their family, his job as a mechanic didn’t make him a millionaire but it was enough to put food on the table and pay the bills. Now that Uncle Ben was gone, all that was left was Aunt May and Peter and seeing as Aunt May was pretty old it would be pretty difficult for her to find a job.

Peter realised he would have to find a part-time job.

The land-lord let out a sigh. “You guys have not made much of a fuss so I can extend the due date to next month. But please Mrs. Parker, you have to pay.”

“No problem,” Aunt May said. ‘I understand, Mr. Lee.”

Before the land-lord could enter the doorway, Peter quickly left the apartment. The land-lord smiled at him.

“Ah Mr. Parker.”

Peter nodded. “Mr. Lee.”

And the land-lord was off. Peter entered.

“Evening May,” Peter said.

“Evening Peter,” Aunt May said with a warm smile. Aunt May was a sweet woman well into her mid-fifties but still had the energy of a twenty-year-old. You could see her age by the silver white hair she always up tied up in a bun and the few wrinkles that lined her face. From her pleasant smile and sweet voice, it would be easy to assume that May Parker was a lady who wouldn’t hurt a fly but Peter knew all to well never to miss curfew.  “You’re here pretty late, Peter Parker.”

“I was… studying,” Peter lied. He put his bag in his room so that Aunt May didn’t check and find his costume and sat on the sofa. “I saw Mr. Lee at the door. Is… uh… anything the matter?”

Aunt May shook her head. “Nothing you should worry about,” she said. “What do you want for dinner?”

“Meatloaf.”

“We’re all out,” Aunt May said.

Peter groaned. “How about a burger?”

Aunt May nodded. “Alright.”

While May was frying the patties, they made small talk.

“How’s your friend?” Aunt May asked. “The Wayne boy?”

“He’s fine,” Peter said. He noticed a few papers buried underneath old photos and newspapers. Photos of a young Aunt May and Uncle Ben, photos of a 10-year-old Peter holding up a Captain America figurine while Ben tried getting him to do the chores. Underneath those photos, those doorways to a simpler time were wads of bills all stamped in an ugly red colour. “Did I tell you I was invited to a gala at Wayne Manor?”

Aunt May gasped. Even though she personally didn’t like Bruce Wayne, citing him as a bad example for children, especially teenagers she still was excited for Peter since even as a kid he would never stop going on about Mr. Wayne.

“My nephew Peter Parker is going to a gala!” Aunt May said, the excitement in her voice was very evident. “We’re going to have to get you a fancy suit and everything!”

Peter smiled. “I’ll settle for Uncle Ben’s suit.”

“That dusty old suit?” May scoffed. “No, we need to get you a tailor made one.”

“But I always thought that suit was cool,” Peter complained. And Peter did think it was cool. A navy-blue suit with a white waistcoat and navy- blue pants. Back in New York, him and Uncle Ben always used to go and try on that suit whenever he hit a growth spurt and every time it would fall over his shoulders. Now that he got his magic muscles from that spider maybe it would fit him. He wondered what Uncle Ben’s reaction would have been if he was alive to see it. “It was always so big for me. Maybe now it’ll fit.”

Aunt May groaned. “Fine, if you insist.”

 “Maybe you can tell Bruce Wayne to pay our rent,” May suggested jokingly.

And Peter sighed. “About that…”

“What is it Peter?”

“I was thinking maybe I could get a part-time job?” Peter said. “Bring in some cash?”

“No,” Aunt May said firmly. “You should focus on your studies.”

“But I have time…”

“I said NO Peter,” Aunt May said firmly. Peter was taken aback by the sudden outburst. Aunt May had never shouted at him before, sure he had been scolded before but never shouted at. Aunt May shook her head and sighed.

“I’m sorry Peter,” May said.

“It’s…”

“No, no,” May said. “It isn’t. It’s just… Gotham is unsafe and dangerous and I…”

Aunt May looked like she was on the verge of tears. “I don’t want to lose someone else. I already lost my Ben and if I were to lose you…”

Tears started pouring down May’s face. Peter quickly rushed over to her and hugged her.

“I miss him so much, Peter,” May said through sobs.

“Yeah,” Peter said sadly. “Me too, May.”

In the corner of his eye, a piece of paper stared Peter square in his face as if challenging him. On that paper, written in big red letters was the word Overdue, stamped on that paper like an afterthought, it’s blood red ink almost dripping on the table and Peter’s mind was made.