“Yes, ‘Chovy?” I answered in the tiniest voice I could muster. Antonio “Anchovy” Bennet was known for two things: being a rude little shit and a slave worker. From calling me off the clock to making me miss my mother's birthday–and then not paying me for the job I did–he’s the worst.

But in this economy,beggars can’t be choosers.

“Don’t start with me, runt.” He thinks it’s funny every time he calls me that.

“How was your day, boss-man?” Leave it to me to egg him on, anyway.

“It was fine until I got a message from Rupert Domingo asking to see your big ass.” The phone slipped from my hand. Scrambling to catch it, I missed half of what he said next.

“I’m sorry, did you say the president wanted to see me?!”

“No, of course not. Must have been a fluke. How many other giant bitches named Sapphyra do you think I have employed?! Now stop asking stupid questions and tell me what you did to get on his bad side!” I could hear his ragged breathing from here.

“Me? I did nothing, I swear!” I didn’t, not that I could think of. A thought plagued me, though I tried not to lean into it.

“I’ll keep your secret.”

Guy could have been lying. Rupert was his direct boss. Why wouldn’t he tell him after the crappy way I talked to him? Which means I did technically do something bad. 

Couldn’t worry about that now, though.

“I did nothing, Chovy, and even if I did, I would have told you about it. I’ve been working for you for five years now; I’m not some rookie.”

He scoffed and snorted what was no doubt a line of this week's designer drugs. His habit has gotten the company close to bankrupting over the years.

“Whatever kid. Don’t tell me, it’s not my problem. Anyway, he wants you at the Imperial tomorrow morning, 8 a.m. sharp. I don’t need to tell you what happens to people who disappoint him, do I?”

That might have been as close to kind as he’s ever been to me.

“And I ain’t paying you just cus’ the president wants ta’ see ya either! Lazy bum.”

He hung up on me, a tiny blessing.

As I clocked out, I headed home, left with my thoughts. My bus ride was quiet. Yesterday it was loud, but months ago the sound was deafening. That’s also the last time the bus was full of people.

Sometimes when I turn my head or close my eyes, it almost feels like the people were still there. I feel a hand on my shoulder, smell something musty–but when I open my eyes there's no one there.

Every street we passed ‌was another reminder of where the lines in the city sat. Maintained neighborhoods, pristine and secluded, never had to worry about cleanups. They weren’t the leftovers–the rest of us were.

Growing up, I thought I was lucky. Mom bought a house with Dad's life insurance money long ago in one of the safer districts of downtown. Safety was short-lived, unfortunately. Once I turned 18, downtown stopped being a haven the day a building collapsed from a swarm of flying monkeys.

Almost at my stop. 

We flew past Ernies. I saw a waitress carrying a large pink cake covered in berries with numerous candles on top. A young woman sat at a bar with a handsome young man next to her.

The flames on the candles flickered and laughed at me as my past kidnapped me once more.

“Happy birthday Sapph!”  I hate that I still hear him on that day so clearly.

As I stepped into my house, I had to bite my knuckle to stifle the memory until it passed.

“Mom, I’m home!” I toss my keys into the bowl, kick off my shoes and wander into the kitchen–ravenous.

On the table next to the bowl was an overdue bill from The City. 

“Hey baby. Did you have a good day at work?” 

I bent down for her, letting my tiny mom kiss my cheek. She’s not just tiny because I’m huge–over the years she’s shrunk because of an incurable bone disease that I can’t pronounce the name of. Yet even with a walker, at 54, my mom refuses to let anything slow her down.

She’s such a badass; she’s a secretary for the police department.

“Mostly. I helped a little girl reunite with her mother. The roads are empty where the attack happened, too.”

Two truths, let's not add a lie.

“Mm, did you run into Mr. Dynamo again? I know you love yourself some Dynamo.” 

Bless her heart, she still thinks I’m that little girl with the superhero crush.

“Momma, I’m older now. I’ve moved far beyond crushing on celebrities.” Especially when I casually break their hearts. God, I’m such a horrible person.

“What's wrong baby?” I tried not to look her in the eye but it was too late.

She’s giving me the mom look. The look. The one that quietly commands you to dump out the contents of your soul. Or else.

“Nothing's wrong.” There's the lie.

She squints, pouring herself a cup of coffee at the same time–never missing a drop.

“Mmhm.” The soft hum is my first warning to come clean. Even now at 30 years old, I still start sweating whenever I hear that.

“Mom, I’m serious.”

“I’m sure you are. You’re a grown woman now–no need to tell your old fuddy-duddy momma about anything going on in your life.” She’s so dramatic.

“I’ll just waste away knowing that my dear daughter doesn’t need me anymore–”

I caved. “Okay! Fine. Mom, yeah, stuff…stuff happened today. I said some things to Guy.”

She sipped her piping hot coffee, one eyebrow raised.

“First name basis already?”

“Mom! Not the point.”

“Carry on. What did you say to him?”

Biting my bottom lip, I exhaled slowly.

“I may have…refused his invitation to be a superhero like him.” Not with him. That’s the last thing my mother needs to hear.

“And he took it that bad? I always knew you were a heartbreaker honey.” I rolled my eyes at the pride dripping from her voice. 

“It’s not just the rejection, it’s how I said it. Or, rather, what I said after. I spiraled, panicked–”

“You self sabotaged again?” She already knew. I hate that this is a pattern for me.

Running my fingers through my hair, I nodded.

“I started blaming him for all the bad shit in the city. Blamed him for the people he couldn’t save—”

She slowly placed the cup down, sighing. She wasn’t angry or disgusted–though I wished she was. No, she was disappointed and I hated that even more. When her hands folded over mine, my breath caught in my throat. I ripped my hands away and turned my back on her, heading towards my room.

She didn’t stop me. Who could blame her?

I closed the door behind me, locking it. She had a key, of course–it was her house. No, I wanted to lock it for my peace of mind. 

“Please tell me you’re here. I need you so bad right now.” The words ripped from my throat just as my strength left me.

I squeezed my eyes shut, and opened them again, coming face to face with my soulmate. 

My gut finally started untangling itself as I stopped holding back tears. 

“Rough day, beautiful?” The love of my life asked me.