Chapter 1 #2
“You still can’t fix that damn TV?” A nervous smile spread across my cheeks. “It’s time to buy a new one. We’ll have to save up, get one of those fancy ones they have now.”
Joon opened his mouth to respond, but Minnie’s voice cut in. “I’m sure that TV has been gone for a long time, Alex.”
My heart dropped as I jolted.
She sat in the corner of his small bedroom, nestled in a large, plush reading chair that was too big for the space.
Joon insisted that it was the best thing he’d ever bought, but we always had to shove it aside to even get through the door.
I’d forgotten that I’d pulled her in with me.
Minnie would likely be slumped over in her office, across from my own limp body, while my daydream played out in our heads.
If we ran over time, her assistant would knock twice before coming in with the smelling salts.
Minnie had been in my daydreams before; if the session got difficult, I’d bring us to a beach, or a cabin in the woods, and we’d resume right where we left off.
That was the thing about Variant abilities, though; they always had side effects.
Mine meant I wasn’t able to wake up without something on the outside doing it for me.
Minnie could sense lies, but that meant she couldn’t tell them, either.
Joon was stronger, though. His ability could do so much; it was adaptable—the Variant Intelligence Agency gave him the codename ‘Hopper’, and it fit him perfectly.
He could jump straight up onto the rooftop of a skyscraper, or get to the scene of a Villain attack within seconds.
He was fast, powerful, and nothing could stop him aside from a few broken bones when the energy in his legs crushed them.
Variant technology gave him braces that could funnel the impact, and there were plenty of Heroes and agents with healing abilities to help any complex damage.
He was the one who was meant to be a Hero, not me—he was the fighter. Joon kept watching with those dark eyes, waiting for me.
“Go on, Alex,” Minnie urged softly. “Try again.”
“Do you…” I swallowed, and his gaze refused to waver.
Pressure filled my head, and something roared in my ears as my pulse picked up. I didn’t want to say it out loud, didn't want to break the news even though it was my own mind that I was communicating with. Finally, I took a deep breath, and my chest cracked.
“You know that you’re dead, right?”
His lips moved, that grin still on his face, but I couldn’t hear his voice. That was the one thing I couldn’t replicate anymore. I’d lost the detail. Was it deep and scratchy? Or more soft velvet? Our conversations were always one-sided in my daydreams, but I knew what he would say.
Of course I do, idiot. Do you?
“Start with your feelings,” Minnie’s voice called through the thunder in my head. “Say whatever comes to mind.”
“You died…” my voice cracked. “And it broke me.”
I kept my eyes on his, and he leaned forward to put a large hand over my clenched fist, the one that still had splotches of red from an incident at the academy.
It didn’t hurt anymore, but he ran his thumb over the scars, as if he could wish them away.
Joon was always there for me—the crybaby of the neighborhood, the sloth that always fell asleep in class and got reprimanded for pulling everyone else into my daydreams.
He was there when I woke up from surgery to get the implants in my head, and he was there when I got my third-class status as a Hero. The banner he made spread across the entire wall of my apartment, celebrating as if he hadn’t already beaten me by becoming first class.
“You told me that I could do whatever I dreamed up, but I can’t make you come back. You’re supposed to be the strong one; you’re the one that’s untouchable, and you fucking died on me. I can’t fix that, and so… I quit.”
That was the part that made my throat clench, the part that made me want to recoil into myself.
Joon never let me be a quitter, but he wasn’t around to stop me anymore.
On the day of his funeral, I turned in my leave of absence.
Heroes were dogs of the government, and the VIA would never give us up.
But I wasn’t a high-profile Hero, and as long as Minnie kept submitting paperwork that claimed I would be a liability, they would keep me off the books for intelligence missions.
I never planned on going back, and it felt like a betrayal to him. Joon had plans, but without him, there was nothing.
“I can’t be a Hero without you. I can’t be strong. I don’t…I don’t have anything left. I don’t know how to move forward, and I don’t know how to say goodbye to you. I’m just…stuck here, alone.”
My hair created a dark shroud over my face as I leaned forward, cupping my hands over my mouth as the panic washed in.
The truth was, I had never been anything without Joon.
He was the one to watch, the up-and-coming star, and I was his sidekick.
A sister who didn’t share his blood. We’d created a family between ourselves—Joon had moved from overseas to the apartment next door with his mother when we were kids.
His ability had manifested, and the schools in our district had close ties with the academy.
My parents always worked. Joon had the talent to be recruited, but my ability was still an unknown.
The academy didn’t let just anyone in, but if the chip reading on your ability reached over forty-seven percent functionality by the time you turned eighteen, and you could pay the tuition fees, your enrollment was granted.
They worked endless hours, and my chip reading had come back with working at forty-eight percent. I barely made it.
But Joon was always there, cheering me on.
His mother made me dinner when my parents worked, and we ate together nearly every night.
He told me stories about his hometown while she brushed my hair before bed.
For sixteen years, we had been by each other’s side.
Now he was gone, and I was left with a dream that hadn’t ever been mine to begin with. Everything was pointless without him.
I pushed against his chest, and his warmth was so real.
No one could understand it unless I’d pulled them in—these dreams were living scenes, until I let the image crumble.
The flash on his face was real—true confusion, a bit of disbelief.
It was exactly how Joon would have reacted.
I could smell the laundry detergent that I watched his mother buy during trips to the store, and the wisp of lilac from the shampoo I switched out as a prank.
He hadn’t even been mad; that lilac scent became his trademark, and it was the only shampoo he’d used since.
When he died, I found a candle that smelled exactly like that shampoo. It was the only candle I’d bought in the past three years. I lit it every night before bed; the ritual was a mix of comfort, and punishment.
“I didn’t want to be a Hero,” I shook my head as my hands trembled in the air. “I just wanted to prove that I could do it; I wanted to prove that you were right about me. What do I live for now? What would I be dying for as a Hero? What did you die for?”
Tears streamed down my face, and Joon sat there, watching me. The scene around us began to blur, fading in and out of black. His lips moved, and still no voice came from them. But I knew Joon; I knew what he would be saying.
Find something to live for. Find another goal, and start running.
I didn’t get to answer him before the connection broke, and I shot up on the velvet couch in Minnie’s office.
It took a moment to catch my breath and dried tears began to crust along my face.
Her assistant was already walking away and closing the door behind her, with a tube of smelling salts tucked in her grip.
My body wouldn’t let me cry anymore; I was too exhausted.
But the weight that had been on my chest for so long lightened, just a touch.
The grip was loosened enough for me to gasp for air.
“That was a fantastic breakthrough, Alex,” Minnie was already sitting up straighter, tucking loose strands of hair behind her ears.
“Just keep doing that; keep speaking your truth. And…let’s try one new thing this week.
It can be anything — something that interests you, an old hobby, a new restaurant.
Mix it up; challenge yourself to do something out of your current routine. Find something that brings you joy.”