ALEX:
The party was thriving claustrophobia, carbonated, sparkling drinks, red solo cups, and bright, flashing led lights shifting across the rainbow’s spectrum in time with thumping bass. Guests spilled onto the balcony and swarmed throughout the modest apartment on the tenth floor of the complex. There was one person completely passed out on a lawn chair on the balcony by the time Marisol pulled up to the entry.
Floating spherical androids held both drinks and platters of chips and chicken wings, and Alex watched Tory’s eyes snap onto the latter.
“Let’s grab some food,” Alex said.
They went up to one of the androids. The android chirped and offered the platter. A green light scanned over Tory’s face.
“Victor Burns. Former member of the Justice High soccer team. Status: Invited. Welcome, Tory!” The robotic voice chirped, then turned to Alex. “Alexander Hale. Member of the Justice High Symphonic Band. First Trumpet. Status: Unknown. Please speak to the host before entering.”
“Uh, Alex is my plus one,” Tory said. “And Delaney and Marisol are my plus two and plus three.”
The android mulled this over, then chirped. “Only current team members are allowed to invite guests.”
Tory grimaced. “Can I be an exception? I’m...Martin’s friend?”
Alex sucked air in through his teeth. Great. This was going to suck.
The android didn’t seem impressed, chirping, “Please take specific inquiries to the party host.”
“Ugh. Could you get Martin for me, then?”
The android didn’t move. It offered a plate of wings to Tory, who pouted.
“...I’m the mayor of Gale City’s son?” He raised an eyebrow, and the android did not respond.
Alex chuckled. “The robot is not impressed by your networking connections.”
“Because they’re usually so helpful.” Tory sighed. Alex snorted.
“Alright.” Tory turned to Alex, Delaney, and Marisol. “Hang tight. I’ll be back in a minute with Martin to see if I can override the androids. Don’t worry, he knew we were all coming, so we’ll for sure get in. Just snack out here until then.”
Alex watched Tory leave, then turned back to Delaney and Marisol, who were chowing down on wings already.
“Wow! These are so good.” Marisol chewed, their eyes lit up and their mouth covered in buffalo sauce. Delaney laughed and handed them napkins.
After a minute of them idly chatting, eating wings, and Marisol begging the androids to please bring them alcohol of literally any kind, Martin Ramos came outside, his cheeks pink and his brown eyes bright.
“Alex! ‘Sup?”
“Hey, man.” Alex leaned past Martin to see if Tory had followed him, but he wasn’t there.
“Martin! We came with Tory. Did he find you?” Delaney beamed, her arms around Marisol’s shoulders, their head tucked under her chin. Marisol looked somewhere between grumpy and content about it.
“No.” Martin blinked, surprised. “My androids told me that there were some uninvited people outside. They must have meant you.” He looked at the android with a raised eyebrow. “These guys are invited now.”
“Thanks,” Delaney grinned.
Martin nodded and went back inside. “No problem. Just be cool and don’t break anything.”
When Martin was gone, Marisol’s crooked grin spread across their face. “‘Hey, man’?”
Alex sighed loudly. “That did not sound natural, did it?”
“It was a bit like someone trying to speak in a foreign language.”
Delaney grimaced and nodded. “We just have to accept that Tory is the only one in the squad who can talk to other jocks.”
“Speak for yourself. I’m cool as hell,” Marisol huffed.
Alex sighed internally. He was a lot better at talking to people when he had a mask, but that was all in the past.
Marisol sighed. “Should we wait for Tory out here?”
“Let’s just split up and find him, then meet back in the living room,” Alex said.
“No introverts left behind,” Marisol said, and Alex grinned.
They hustled inside the party and the thumping bass pounded against their bones, the flashing led lights transforming the room into a different world with every shifting color. Teenagers danced and drank and ate and made out on the couch and scrolled through their phones.
A group of them were clustered together, staring at the holo screens projected from one person’s phone—a video of some kind of hover car crash.
Alex’s eyes darted around the living room and the kitchen, and then he went down the hallway. It seemed like every space was overflowing with people. He called for Tory, but his voice didn’t carry over the loud music, even as he moved deeper into the apartment.
Something crashed, and it was barely heard over the crowd and the music. Some partygoers perked up and peered towards the room at the very end of the hallway.
“Oh,” one guy said, grinning. Alex vaguely recognized him from calculus. “Somebody’s having fun in there.”
“Someone should tell Martin that his parents’ office got invaded.”
“Didn’t Tory Burns go in there with someone?”
“Damn. He works fast.”
Alex flinched. What?
They must have been mistaken. He was supposed to be looking for Martin—he couldn’t have gotten distracted that easily. Alex knew he processed and felt attraction differently from his friends, on the rare occasions he felt any at all, but he was pretty sure that made no sense.
Besides, Tory had promised to not leave him.
He heard another crash—the sound of glass breaking. This time, the other people in the hallway didn’t pay it any mind, but Alex was set on edge, his old instincts revving to life.
It didn’t sound right. The worst possible scenarios raced through his head as he ran to the door and jiggled the handle.
The door was locked. He heard a grunt of pain, something else crashing and breaking, rapid footfalls that made the wood creak as someone raced from one end of the room to the other, and coughing.
Alex banged on the door. “Tory! Are you in there? Are you okay?”
“AL—” The familiar voice was cut off by a choking sound, and Alex’s heart pounded.
Alex was not a hero.
He didn’t have powers, so he was not allowed to be one. He could never be Everlux, fake as he was, or any of the other heroes that graced newsfeeds on the daily.
At seventeen years old, Alex did, however, know exactly how to break a locked door down, and he had the strength to do it. He’d been trained for situations like this since he was eight.
He took a few steps back, then ran toward the door.
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