Chapter 1
You saw it again.
That face, that person. But where? Where could he be?
You looked around the coffee shop. It was dimly lit and almost empty, only a few stragglers before closing. None matched his description. Tall, tan, messy brown hair, beautifully sculpted face and bright crimson eyes. This time the man was walking through that same orange thing you always saw. But this time with some kind of blob that disappears. That was new. He had on that mask again, the one that kind of looked like Spider-Man but not. His was much more intimidating, darker and sharper. You still couldn't make out enough to definitively say anything but he definitely looked like Spider-Man. His face is the only thing you can really make out anytime you have these glimpses. Then he took off his mask, and you were once again graced with his beautiful features.
"Excuse me? Hello?" A customer had appeared in front of the counter, looking expectedly at you.
"Yes, sorry! How may I help you?" You tried to pretend you weren't in the clouds, daydreaming about a man you've never seen. The customer ordered and you were sent on your way, making a latte the same way you have done so many times before. After calling that person's name, the clock hit 9. Your shift was done, and you can finally go back to thinking about the mysterious man.
You fast walked to your apartment, eager to be home. Once through the door, you felt a sudden jolt run through you. Something happened. Something’s watching. You looked around the space, tip-toeing through your room, living area, kitchen, and double checked the bathroom.
Nothing.
The feeling isn’t going away but, you have much more pressing matters. You walked to your bedroom, and put on a baggy shirt that had countless paint stains on it before you moved to your living room where your easel is.
Around the area were many paint tubes, brushes, cups of sullied water and numerous canvases. Some were empty but the vast majority were paintings of the mysterious man. Mask, no mask. Smiling, scowling. But you had seen him this morning, with teeth. Large fangs and a crazed look. You had to capture it.
And so you began.
In a fever you laid out and mixed paint on your arm, too devoted to bring to life his likeness. A blue background, then browns, then red. So much red. You stared into his pained eyes.
“Who are you?” You whispered.
Never before had you felt like this, so crazed over him. The earlier weeks had been tolerable, seeing him then going back to whatever you were doing. But now, you felt like you had an audience. Like he was here, watching you recreate him on a canvas.
Then, you took a muted white and dragged your brush down from his mouth. You mirrored it on the other side.
There he was. A bust piece with his mouth as the focus. He had his jaw unhinged with his long, beautiful fangs outstretched, blood on them. Red glowing eyes.
“Gorgeous.”
You take a step back, admiring your work. This was it. Nothing you did after will ever reach this. You marveled at it, at him. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say you were in love. In love with a man that may not be real.
–
“Uh, sir? Something’s all weird” Lyla stated hovering over Miguel’s shoulder, hands on her hips.
Miguel’s eyebrows furrowed as he slipped off his mask. He had just gotten back from a mission, a paper mache Green Goblin had slipped into Earth-2731. Miguel then had Lyla transfer the villain to the containment area. He barely got through the portal before being bombarded with bad news. He can’t go anywhere with the HQ falling into madness, huh?
“What do you mean? I was barely gone a day.” Miguel said with a huff, briskly walking to his computer with her hologram following quickly behind.
“Well, it looks like this has been an issue for some time…” Lyla trailed off, a small smirk evident. “So it didn’t screw up because you were gone.” She grins, playfully.
Miguel looks unamused as he sits, pulling up whatever the small woman was talking about. “What is it?”
“It seems like a civilian of Earth-6724 has been seeing glimpse of you.” Lyla says, almost as a question.
“Huh?”
“So, a girl… has been seeing you briefly… when you go through portals.” She says slowly, as if trying not to set him off.
Miguel looks dumbfounded. That’s not possible. Like at all. He begins to swipe at the light projections furiously. A civilian can’t know about the Spider Society. That would put everything in jeopardy. What kind of jeopardy? He wasn’t sure, but he knew it had to be some kind.
Miguel enlarged a file, one that Lyla had compiled about you. Barista, college graduate. You seemed normal. Too normal. How on Earth could you see him?
“How?” Miguel raised his voice a bit, as he stepped back from the light projections. If you could see him, who else could?
“I’m still figuring it out, but,” Lyla said abruptly, “I can pull up a feed of her.” She said in a sing-song voice. Miguel didn’t have to say anything, she knew the answer. Lyla then swiped on the orange lights to put a feed as the front and center.
The girl seemed to jolt suddenly, as if she knew they were there, watching. She then slowly checks every room before settling into her living area. Saying it was a mess was an understatement. Not dirty, just chaos of canvases and paintings. Then it dawns on Miguel.
Those paintings are of him.
Some of them are depictions of fights, previous fights that he has been in. Many of them are of his face with various expressions.
The girl then begins to paint, seemingly another portrait of him, this time with large fangs. Miguel covers his mouth with his hand. She whispers something, he strained to hear but to no avail.
After what feels like an eternity, she stops her feverous painting and steps back looking mesmerized. “Gorgeous” she says, breathless.
Miguel is speechless. It was one thing to have some stranger have glimpses of him but to be this compelled to make art of him? Preposterous. Crazy. There's no way. He suddenly feels embarrassed, hand covering the lower half of his face.
“I… wasn’t expecting that.” Lyla says, turning her head to Miguel. “What’s that look? Are you red? Are you… embarrassed?!” She squeals, putting her small hands on his shoulder.
Miguel doesn't respond. All the annoyance of this situation is gone, all he feels is butterflies. He’s never seen you before this, but he’s struck. He simply stares at the feed, taking in everything, and most of all, taking in you.
“Gorgeous” he says, breathless.