"Only a few more questions. Do you have a middle name? Also, did you ever complete any schooling that wasn't hero-related?" Noel asks, and I'm glad this is almost done because it's so stupid and it's growing harder and harder for me to pretend like it's not. It would do this guy a lot of favors to assume that the blank areas in my record are just non-applicable if I'm honest. There's a reason the information isn't there.

My response is simple. "No and no."

I'm hoping Noel will let me go after that response, but instead, he frowns. I just quirk an eyebrow at the confused expression on his face, watching him glance between me and my record for a moment.

"You don't have any kind of degree? You never even graduated high school?" Noel clarifies, confusion growing. Why is it so fucking hard for him to comprehend my getting into this profession on talent alone? I can see the fucking future, no I don't have a degree.

"No," I tell him with more than a little attitude, growing visibly fed up with the questioning. Noel and I just stare at each other for a moment, before he flicks his gaze back down at my file. There's a pinch to his brow like he's unsure what to do next. Did he think they just... lost all this information about me? I'm a special case, what's not to get?

"Is there a problem?" I ask him after a couple of minutes of nothing, just him typing something on his computer. Honestly, if I were to guess, it seems as though he's transferring the information from the physical files over to something digital. Was Mr. Wolfe that old-fashioned?

"No," Noel tells me. I quirk an eyebrow at him, though he isn't looking at me so it doesn't matter. "My father made a lot of exceptions for you, so I'm having to bypass some things in the database. It'll just take a second."

I don't acknowledge that with a response, just watching Noel stare at his computer, focused. There is a frown on his face as he bypasses the system for me, since I'm such a special case, and all I can do is sit here and wait. It doesn't take long for me to get bored.

"So, why'd you want to take over for Mr. Wolfe in the first place?" I decide to ask him, because I still find him suspicious. I thought it might get better if I were to be up close and personal with him, but it's not. There's still something wrong. The same feeling I got at Mr. Wolfe's retirement party, I'm feeling now.

I can't trust this guy. There's something off about Noel. I thought having a one-on-one conversation with him would make me realize he's just a regular person, maybe I was being too harsh. However, that's not happening. If anything, the feeling is stronger.

Since I'm closer, I can see his eyes in more detail. Orange and white flecks in his yellow iris, his teeth far sharper than they seemed at the party. Especially his canines. His teeth remind me of a panther or a lion or something. Predatory.

We can't trust him. I know it. I'm even more sure of that, now, I just have no idea why.

"I was his first choice," is the only answer Noel gives me. I narrow my eyes on him, his response instantly setting off alarm bells in my head. I have no idea why. Then again, most support association CEOs are in it because they really like heroes. The story for all of them seems to be that they've always loved heroes and wanted to be one, but they don't have powers, so this was the next best thing.

Not Noel, though. Apparently. He's only doing it because his dad wanted him to. So, what, does that mean...

"Do you have powers, then?" I ask the man, purely out of curiosity. Obviously, I don't like this guy, but I quite literally have nothing else to do right now. Also, know your enemy.

Noel's gaze flicks from his computer screen to my face in an instant, and I see him look it up and down. Something in the atmosphere seems to change, though I have no idea what. It happens out of nowhere, I ask him a simple question, and suddenly everything feels like it got put on pause.

What the hell, why is he staring at me so intently?

"What gave you that idea?"

I can't help the strange look I give him, because, well... why is he acting like this? Why did such a simple question get such a strong, though tame, reaction from him?

"A couple things," I tell him vaguely, not sure how I feel about how intent he is. Why did that question seem to get to him? I watch the man study me for a moment, before seeming to come to some sort of conclusion. I see him relax after assumedly finding what he was looking for, and this feels strange.

"I do not," Noel tells me simply, and I don't believe him. Right away, it just doesn't sound right. Maybe I'm biased because I've been suspicious of this guy since the second he walked out on that stage, but I don't care. I don't believe him for a second.

I need to go. I need to think about this. I need to talk to Lacy, she'll probably know what to do. Then again, what do you do when everything that comes out of your new boss's mouth feels like a lie?

"Okay, well, can I go yet?" I ask the man, raising my eyebrows. He seems to finish whatever he was doing, and I gain his undivided attention. His face is still impossible for me to read, which is annoying because I'm used to knowing things. I can find out just about anything I want with little to no effort, but this guy is different.

My power and my general intuition already aren't working as much as they usually do in this guy's presence, but I'm also having a difficult time reading his expression. I've never been confronted by anything so shrouded in mystery, and I don't know if my fascination is growing because of that or because a part of me can tell that things just, well...

Things just aren't adding up with him.

"Did you have somewhere to be?" Noel asks me, and I actually do. I'll take any excuse to get out of here, so I tell him;

"Yeah. I need to go help the police interrogate a numbered." I tell him, which isn't a lie. I see Noel's eyes narrow on me fractionally before a hint of realization seems to cross his features.

"You're the one who caught Three?"

He doesn't say it like his dad did, all those weeks ago. Fascination, disbelief, pride, intrigue.

Nope. Noel... Noel only seems to be feeling the intrigue.

"Yes," I tell him, unable to help the hint of pride in my tone. Noel seems to think about it for a moment, before finally nodding. He makes insane eye contact, I've noticed during this meeting. He looks at me a lot, and it seems to mostly be coming from a place of concern. Concern for what, I'm not sure.

"Okay. You are dismissed."

I'm about ready to run out of there, able to hear my heartbeat in my ears because that's how fucking wrong everything feels, before I remember my last work-related conversation with his dad. When we'd spoken about the stars. I did a great job catching Three, so I think I've earned a golden sticker.

So, before I go, I say; "do I get a sticker?"

Noel blinks, studying me for a moment. He seems lost for a moment before I see realizations register on his face. The look in his eye leans into amusement, and I'm unsure if that's a good thing or not.

"For what?"

"For catching Three." I don't miss a beat. I want that sticker so bad I can fucking taste it. I deserve it, too. I caught a fucking numbered!

Noel hums, crossing his arms and leaning back in his large office chair, slowly. I dislike the way he's looking at me, like this is a game and he's going to win. I just want my fucking golden star.

"This seems important to you."

I don't see why that's relevant, but I affirm it anyway. "It is."

Noel and I stare at each other, and I'm being so fucking serious. I want my sticker. I want my star. I caught Three, and I'll catch Four, two. Then Five, Then Six. I'll catch One and Two and every single fucking one of them if I have to, I want my sticker.

There's no way he can't see it in my eyes. The intensity. How many fucks I give, it's unmatched. I earned it.

"You'll have to try harder," Noel tells me, finally. I feel my blood turn to ice. The corner of his mouth quirks up, the first break in his serious facade. I see the razor-sharp points of his canines when he continues.

"The numbered don't mean anything to me."

That's it. The end. That's all he has to say. I wait and wait, just staring at him in disbelief. Of course the numbered matter to him! He's just fucking with me, there's no way he doesn't see the threat they pose. Is this man insane?

Except, no matter how long I stare at him, nothing changes. The more my anger grows, the more final his shark-like grin feels, and it's pointless. He's serious, Three isn't enough for him. The numbered aren't enough for him, I'll have to direct my focus elsewhere if I want to impress this guy. If I want my sticker.

I'm going to get my sticker.

Once it hits me that this conversation is pointless, I stand up. I grab my utility goggles and strap them on my face, before saying my parting words. The anger and frustration are clear in my tone when I grit out;

"I really hope you fucking quit."

Then, I leave Mr. Wolfe's stupid goddamn office, wishing I could've told him what I actually want: him to die.

Wishing it were that easy.