I think I’m ugly? Honestly there’s no way to know, unless I asked somebody, which I can’t do, because that’ll make me look super needy for validation. I’m at the point where I can look in a mirror and say, ‘yep, I’m the hot’ and ‘yep, I’m fugly’ at the same time. I have a defined jaw and cheek bones, so the lower half of my face is the part that makes me think I look good, but up past that I look like a… something red, white, and purple. Can’t think of a comparison off the top of my head.

I grow my hair out to hide my forehead and its blemishes. I guess it’s true that my big ball of hair, not cut or kept in any particular way is probably just as unattractive, but I’m already ginger, so it isn’t possible to make it look good anyway. I guess it’s just another manifestation of not wanting people to think I’m gross or weird, while making myself more unlikable.

I’ve been thinking about that time I fought that Pooka, and afterwards I got in Mullet’s car and rode home with him, his girlfriend, and Saoirse. I really didn’t need to include that little bit about Saoirse being drunk and saying I was handsome or whatever. She didn’t mean anything by that, I just liked the fact somebody other than my granny said it. Of course, I don’t look anything like I did then; my bags are back, I’ve had spots on my face since then, and my face is a little busted from fighting the Circuit Board, so if I was good looking, I’m not anymore.

Why am I saying any of this? I don’t know.

I woke up in biology, despite it being spring, the room was frigid, the windows had been left open because of some experiment the previous class did. A good few people were still off school, either due to being affected directly by the Circuit Boards actions, or indirectly, through the loss of a loved one, or their family losing work in the wake of the disaster.

Some people, for example Izzy, whose dad works in construction, they were doing better than before. Apparently, most working in the field have been called from other public service projects to rebuild, the city is trying to recover quickly, before any tourists come in from Dublin or the north, so the jobs pay especially well.

Izzy was explaining all of this to Mullet and Saoirse, (and due to our proximity, me). Mullet scratched his head during all of this, not really understanding what a contractor does. “So… that means you have more money now? Then why don’t you ever buy me anything?” He looked betrayed saying that.

Izzy shouted at him, “I’m just getting more spare change from me da! You were the one bragging about how minted your weird gas station job is.”

Mullet had to think for another while. “I quite that for a reason. Pay was crap. I give you lifts. You could at least help pay for the gas if I’m taking you somewhere I don’t want to go.”

Now Izzy was offended, “Where the fuck don’t ya want to go with me? I’m your bird! You should be happy to be with me.”

Around this point in the conversation, Saoirse realised that she might become a third wheel in this argument, so she turned around and carried on with the work that Mr Biology left for us.

I tried to go back to sleep again, as much as I would love to hear a couple argue about money, I think I’ve got enough of that noise from my parents. I collapsed my head into my arms and tried to ignore them.

And I must have been asleep for half an hour, because by the time I was nudged awake, it was lunch. Saoirse was the one to poke her elbow into me, I doubt Izzy or even Mullet would have bothered.

“Class ended,” was what I heard as I made eye contact with her.

I hadn’t really thought about it much before, I haven’t really looked at her face to face like this, but I wondered what her tattoo meant.

A sovereign’s crown. Below her left eye, small enough that you might miss it the first time you look at her face.

I thought about prodding but she probably wouldn’t tell Sam anything.

“Okay,” I replied simply.

Before too long we split up, she headed to the canteen, I headed outside.

I will neither deny nor confirm whether or not I have lunch outside, alone, because that is completely beside the point.

After I was sure nobody was watching, I made my way to the place I had stashed my suit.

What can I say? It’s been a slow week at school, and Clover has been holding back on giving me any info about the outside world stuff that I actually want to know about, so I figure maybe Saoirse will tell me what I want to hear.

I threw my suit on, pasted my mask to my face, and hopped back to school. I jogged round to the windows looking into the canteen and peered through. It took a while before people started to notice me, took me even longer to fin Saoirse in the crowded room.

I finally saw her, sitting at the same table as a few other girls in our year. I tapped the window and shouted her name, which was a dumb idea, because if I couldn’t hear the people on the other side of the glass laughing, then she wouldn’t hear me calling for her.

Eventually, somebody directed her attention to me, and her jaw jutted out. The expression on her face was a mix of confusion, anger, and embarrassment, she’d instilled a similar feeling in me when she first moved in.

She eventually turned around and tried to ignore me. After a while I realised she wasn’t going to come out, so I looped around to the front door, and made my way to her.

However, I ran into somebody else on the way there, Adonis, and the girl from my art class too.

She said, unimpressed, “Hey look, it’s the street performer.”, to which he didn’t respond, instead calling out for me, “Shamrock.”

I debated leaving to talk Clover, but then I remembered the state this guy was in the last time I saw him.

I made something up on the spot, “Hey! It’s a little awkward going through the door dressed like this, but your text said you were busy all week so right now would be the best time to talk, so here I am!”

TGFMAC questioned her boyfriend, now gradually gaining an interest, “You have this guy’s number? So, you did talk to him in that coffee shop? You lied to me?”

Adonis looked back and forth between us, trying to think of an answer to either of us, but I did it for him. “Come on kid, you can trust her to keep a secret right?”

I turned to TGFMAC and explained, “Adonis here is setting up a personal show, well, commissioning one, I’m doing most of the work getting it ready for that party of his. He saw me at your friends, and asked why I didn’t do anything cooler than just show up. And I said it was the budget, and then he said if he was doing it, there wouldn’t be a budget.”

Neither of them said anything. They just looked at each other, before TGFMAC seemed to put some pieces that weren’t there together.

She went wide eyed, “Oh my God. You… for my brother?”

I stood dumbly as she covered her mouth as her eyes went teary.

This wasn’t intended.

Adonis steeled himself. “It was… going to be a surprise.”

She took a few moments to regain her composure, before hugging Adonis tightly. I sort of turned away to let them finish up, eventually TGFMAC dried her eyes, and went to lunch. After I heard her leave, I turned back to face Adonis.

“So. While I’m here I might as well clear somethings-” I stopped myself once I saw his expression.

Typically, from what I’d seen of Adonis from a far, he was a pretty chill guy, seemed content with his life, excluding the last month. I’d never actually seen somebody have an expression like his before, I’d seen many like it on the faces of druggies once I stole their weed and coke, but this was different.

This felt deserved.

I wasn’t as afraid of Isaac’s imposing figure, despite the fact he had super strength to back it up, I’ve faced tons of monsters bigger than me. But I think if Adonis threw a fist at me, I would have flinched.

“You are not making me lie to her. I don’t care what you have to do, what favours you have to pull, you are doing as you said. You are going to put on a show for her little brother.”

I stuttered, “Uh-of course.”

From there we went to a remote part of the school and I asked him, “So, how deep into this do you want to know, because this stuff goes into some eldritch depths, that might change your perception of reality.”

He looked at me, still angry from earlier, “From that I’m… going to assume eldritch creatures beyond human understanding… actually exist.”

Not wanting to freak him out I try to bring it back a little, “No! It’s more like… On a scale from tip of the ice berg to eldritch depth, how far do you want to know?”

He answered, “Everything.”

I tilted my head, “Yeah, okay, then eldritch gods do exist.” I watched his face for some sort of reaction but he remained unphased. “You don’t look too surprised.”

“I’m assuming that either these gods aren’t malicious, they’re unable to interact with us for some reason, or we’re beneath their notice. If god wanted you died you wouldn’t exist. Reality would have ended by now.”

I was taken aback for a second by his deduction skills, before he continued, “Tell me everything you know about… them. Whoever’s responsible.” I knew what he was talking about from the slight change in his expression.

I explained to him who the Circuit Board Seven are, about Axel, but neglected to mention Clover.

“So, all of that, all the destruction, the murders, were so this god could slightly annoy this Axel Right?”

“Yeah.”

“But they lost? Despite you being taken out, all of their guys being fine, and them capturing their target? Who you say wasn’t shaken up by this experience at all?”

I thought about it for a second, “Yeah…”

“Not to mention, the fact that the seventh one never showed up? Don’t you think that’s suspicious? Or the fact that this machine god let one of his only subordinates get captured? Or that one of those subordinates is just a normal human being?”

“Uhh… You’re processing all of this pretty quickly.”

He smiled at me, after twenty minutes of talking with that serious expression, I was relived. “I’m a millionaire at 17. That isn’t just because my family is well off. Though that helped.”

I would have asked what he did for a living to get so much dough, but after checking the time, I instead asked, “Is that enough for now? That’s probably a third of what I now anyway, and I’ve got other stuff to do, I didn’t come here just for you.”

He squared his jaw and smiled, “I’m just glad that my family is safe for the foreseeable future, with this Axle gone, and you keeping that fish woman in check.” I grinned, “We’ll talk about the Fomorians next time,” and I wished him good luck, before making my way to the actual objective.

I encountered some trouble, teachers saying I was a suspicious person, I mostly ignored them and went straight to the cafeteria.

I looked around the room of screaming teenagers before finding Saoirse. Most people didn’t interact with me, those who did, did so from a distance using food and plastic utensils, like some sort of show animal.

I got to the girls table, as close as I’ll ever get, and said to her, “I need to get my pay check off you from the 14th.”

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Through gritted teeth came, “I paid you last month, asshole.” She was trying to get rid of me.

I countered with another lie, “No, you paid me the cost of a job with beverages provided, seeing as you didn’t have any when I got there, as it clearly states in our contract, I am entitled to 30% extra pay.”

She squinted her eyes, thinking about how convoluted I was making this situation. She eventually got up from her chair, and told me to meet her outside.

It was stupid of me to think she would show up outside if she was reluctant to talk to me right now.

If I was in her position I wouldn't have. To my surprise she eventually did come around.

“Mind telling me how the fuck you know I go to this school?”

Shit. How do I know that?

“I used my super powers. Obviously.”

“You’re gonna have to come clean on that someday, because right now it just seems like you’re cheating the game.”

I argued, “Like what you do?”

She pointed a finger at me, “I’m just lucky, you pull new shit out of your ass all the time.” Yeah, it must really look that way, huh?

I convinced her to get back on track after arguing about some pointless crap for five of our ten remaining minutes of lunch.

“I’ve been doing some thinking- well, I’ve been doing some talking too actually, and I think you need to explain some things to me.”

She slapped herself in the face and crouched to her knees, “What else do I need to explain??”

I thought about the first question I wanted to ask; time was running short now. “What’s your tattoo mean?”

She took her hands away from her face and looked up at me. “Oh shit. Have you… You know…”

I stood patiently, waiting for her to elaborate.

She must have picked up on the fact I had no clue what she was talking about, because she changed the subject back to my question. “It means that I’m at the peak of the mountain. It means that among all of the Units under our king, I’ve been recognised as an important piece. You could say I’m nobility. Most other people in my station are there for their organisational skills or versatility of their powers, but I’m at the top because I’m the glue that keeps this ship sailing.”

She was beaming with pride by the end of that sentence, so I thought I should say something. “So, you aren’t a good leader, you’re just a good tool.”

Naturally enough for her she got angry and started swearing at me, I tried to get back on track.

“Right so you’re a really powerful unit, sure, but didn’t you lose to that guy from Belfast? The one who eats skyscrapers or something? If he beat you, doesn’t that make him higher than your best guys? That why you haven’t taken care of him yet?”

She laughed me off, “HA! Bastard is our best. He’s the strongest in this corner of the earth, and the greatest leader in the world. And really, you’ve seen a god, omnipotent is the ceiling, do you think some guy from Belfast could be the pinnacle of humanity??”

I didn’t answer, I just thought to myself, ‘but some guy from London-or-wherever is?’

“Where do…” I thought about how to phrase my question, “…Me, Axel, and the circuit board go on a scale of one to ten?” She pursed her lip, “Ooh… If I’m being generous? Most of those circuit board guys are probable 1’s if not 0’s. I’d exclude the God, he’s 10."

"Actually that guy we never saw and Isaac Cre-umha, they’re probably a 2 and 5 respectively. I’m basing this off both their abilities and political power. I don’t hear shit about the ‘The Living Legs’, but I’ve heard of Cre-Umha, the living king of thousands of fish mutants.”

I was a little more than shocked to say the least. My first big fight was against a bunch of nobodies, and a king without his kingdom. And I lost multiple times.

Died once.

“What about the Gator? That thing was definitely stronger than the others.”

She just looked at me, raised an eyebrow, “Rocky, remember that the Gator was built by Axle. If I had to place him… I’d say he’s a 6, with all bots.”

For a second, I thought about asking where I was, but I think I already know, and that she knew I knew, because she consoled me, “Hey, Ae’s only a 2 herself, but she’s living comfortably, in luxury, she makes up for her weaknesses by thinking through problems and avoiding tight situations.”

After a moment of silence, she perked up, a little bit of annoyance in her voice, “Is that all?” I nodded and half-smiled. “Good, because I’m five minutes late for my study class”

Under my mask I went wide eyed.

I turned to bounce back to my clothe stash, but before I leapt Saoirse warned me, “Shit, listen, you can’t do this again, alright? It might not look like it, but things are heating up around here, for me, and you, so only contact me if it’s an emergency, understand?”

As I was leaping, I spat back out at her, without really listening to her foreboding message, “OKAYTHANKSBYE”, because I was more concerned with being even later than I already was.

You’ll be glad to know I got off easy, told my teacher I was just having trouble with a door, and the toilets, that I had to see another teacher for something, and a few other weak excuses.

I didn’t pay much attention to the class. I was once again thinking over Clover’s reluctance to kill me, or at least, to get somebody else to kill me.

If I am a small fry, then she could team up with just about anybody to take me out, same with that guy in Belfast, he could be taken out easily enough, but we haven’t.

Sure, her original logic, that she needs a friend in this country, makes sense after valentines, but that logic doesn’t really apply to Belfast. So, I’m thinking that there is another reason.

I don’t know what, but going off of my history with unknowns, it probably isn’t good.

I’ve been thinking about my place in the world, what I do. I’m stuck in a static routine. Since valentines, I’ve just been going through the motions, over the week I tell kids not to do drugs, sometimes get shot at, then at the weekend, I fight a fish, Feoli doesn’t even show up in person anymore.

I’ve taken a reactionary role, which isn’t so much of a bad thing, I just think that, maybe to make a difference I need to do something proactive. But I don’t know what. I don’t know how to make a difference. And that’s what disgusts me.

I look into a mirror, into my own eyes, and I see someone else. Someone weaker, less able. I have to remind myself that I am neither a hero nor a civilian. I haven’t done anything to earn either title. I haven’t saved the world, and I haven’t saved someone… normally.

I doubt Sam has ever made somebody appreciate their life, make them feel better. I think back on Adonis, how angry it made him that I forced him to lie to the person closest to him.

I am a liar, simply by hiding my face. I’ve taken honesty for granted.

He truly loves that person, and from her reaction, she’s glad to have him.

I am not a hero. I am not a person. But I’m trying to be. I want to be both.

I think it’s because of comics.

If I had never read about Daredevil being able to have two lives, how he could hang out with Foggy for a few hours, then he could go to fight kingpin with Electra, then back and forth, back and forth, building relationships with both, bettering his practices reputation, while slowly breaking the kingpin’s operation. It’s because of that idea that I first decided that this is what I wanted.

I’d never had even one life. And I was miserable. If I could get two lives, if I could build a better world for everyone, including my... my friends, then I could be satisfied.

But I look in the mirror and I still feel disgusted at what I see.

Because after thinking about it, after hearing it said to my face, I know exactly what I am.

A Non-entity.

After having an existential crisis for an hour and a half, school ended.

As I got myself ready to leave, I suddenly became aware of my empty stomach. I hadn’t eaten anything all day, disregarding the banana I had at the start of the day.

I thought about going to Tesco, but after checking my pockets for any spare change, I found 40 Euros.

I had nearly forgotten about Adonis’s donation. I thought about all the things I could buy with this money, finally settling on going to a nearby sandwich shop that I never had the money for.

I was reluctant to set one of the notes aside for later, or maybe to donate it to a soup kitchen, it depends on whether I have the will to part with it or not, after all, Adonis did want me to use it on something to eat.

I made my decision walking down the hill my school is built on, getting a good view of the destroyed section of the city. After nearly two months of construction, it was now adorned with scaffolding.

It made me wonder about how much money was being put into that project, what cuts the government would have to make to infrastructure, like roads, schools, and local charities. It was at this point I decided to put half my money aside for some sort of charity.

I also skimmed over the idea that perhaps this was another manifestation of the ignorance effect, people being subconsciously pushed to cover up any sort of super powered activity.

Not really sure on the validity of that theory, but it’s food for thought, I guess.

When I finally did get down to the sandwich shop, I looked through the window, a little less cartoonishly than Shamrock had done earlier.

It wasn’t as busy as I thought it might be, there were only a few people wearing the colours of my school uniform in there, and about three wearing the uniform from a nearby school.

I went in not thinking I would run into any trouble, and asked the person at the desk for a large panini with beef, lettuce, tomato, and coleslaw.

I watched the lady pack a sizeable amount of each portion, making the Tesco meal deal look anaemic in comparison.

“You better be drooling over that sandwich.”

It was Saoirse. Again.

I ironically thought to myself, ‘what are the odds.’

“What is that supposed to mean?” It honestly took me some time to realise she was making a dirty joke. “Oh.”

The sandwich lady put my sandwich in the panini press.

“What is with you southerners and cheap food?? Have you never been to a good restaurant??”

I looked at the sandwich lady, who was now busy with another customer, before I moved me and Saoirse’s conversation to the other side of the store. “Hey, I’m sure wherever your family goes for dinner is nice and decadent, they’ve got money to throw around, but this is a local business, and I like to support them when I can. And try not to be so rude.”

She smiled a little, and pushed her eyebrows together, a face she’d made often enough for me to know what was coming next. “Eh?? ‘When you can’? You make it sound like a single 5-Euro sandwich is an investment. Well, I guess you are too poor to afford a phone…”

“Alright, you didn’t come here to get shamed for being a rich brat, I didn’t come here to get called poor, let’s just agree to keep to ourselves.” I broke eye contact with her.

“You don’t have to take it so seriously. It’s just banter.” She clearly wasn’t going anywhere.

After an awkward silence I began a speech.

“Banter. I think it’s a flawed philosophy to follow.” I looked back at her and she seemed confused. I decided to elaborate. “The idea of banter originates from Britain. It’s used in situations where you’re having fun with your mates, drinking, that sort of stuff. There is of course an Irish version of this, craic, but there are a few significant differences between the two, due to slight cultural differences.”

She was slowly raising an eyebrow during this.

“Banter includes stuff like making fun of your friends, making a joke out of them, taking the piss,doing something like breaking into a shed and stealing a traffic cone. I for one, am just glad to hang out with people, drink, and even if I do make an ass of myself, I can take comfort in that fact, rather than somebody trying to pick me apart for it. Craic is where you just go out to have fun, enjoy yourself, simply enjoying the daily occurances. To take pleasure in other people’s stories, and sharing your worst with people.”

By this point her mouth was hanging open slightly. “What??”

I stared at her for a few seconds, mimicking her expression slightly, “Huh?”.

I started laughing hard.

Then she started laughing, only stopping when they called her order out. When she came back, she told me, “Sam, you’re fucking bizarre. Like, you're way different from everybody else around here.”

“I'm not that different, you said so yourself. It’s probably just because I don’t play any sports, I find that 70% of all conversations revolve around-” She cut me off half-way through, “No, I mean yeah, that’s true, but, there’s something else about you.”

I looked at her sandwich, “What?”

“I guess you seem… sad? Well you're depressing, duh. Like I can imagine you crying yourself to sleep at night. But I guess you’re more so sad, like… a movie.”

I shook my head, “Ok, now you’re not making any sense, if my lifes a work of fiction, it's a commercial.”

She tilted her head to the side, “You’re like some guy from a romance movie- a satire of a romance movie, where the guy and girl don’t get together, and the girl marries another man that’s like, really hot and has a great job, whereas the guy spends half the movie getting over her through shouting at some walls and stuff, before finally getting a semi-decent job, and maybe he meets another girl, but probably not, you know?”

We were in the same situation as before, but before we could laugh, my order got called.

When I got back to her, I said without thinking, jokingly, “So what, you’re going to go off and marry a king, and I’m going to become a NEET?”

She smiled, “Pretty much.”

I laughed, before she said, “We would have to date first for that to happen though, right?”

After taking a bite of her sandwich, she and I realised the weirdness of what she said.

I filled my mouth with panini before I said anything to make this situation any worse.

After a we left the store, we walked about for a little while. Not really talking about anything, I was more focused on earlier.

I was sweating.

If I had a scent, you’d be able to smell me from a mile away, she’d be throwing up in disgust at the creature she’s been sitting beside for months.

After a while she asked me, “Do you think I’m a rich bitch?” I turned to her. “Be honest with me. The… bunnies were weird.”

I admitted, “Yeah, I guess if you’re rich, you tend to pick up some quirks. It’s a trade off. You get set apart from everybody else, have a harder time of knowing what’s normal.”

She groaned.

I asked just for the sake of asking, “Why didn’t you have any food at the party? You had a ton of beer, but you couldn’t get any sausage rolls?”

She almost said something, but changed her mind, “I sent somebody out, but they never came back.” I laughed at her.

She kicked me in my side, I kept giggleing, before saying, “Okay, okay, so you had a weird party, you live in bigger house than you need, and you eat expensive food sometimes. Rich? Check. Bitch? I mean you do go on tirades, and you are pretty annoying,” She looked like she was going to kick me again. “But… I think a ‘rich bitch’ probably wouldn’t talk to the kid who can’t afford a phone.”

She smiled a little to herself, “Yeah, I guess I am pretty selfless.”

I reminded her, “You do realise you’ve never actually helped me in anyway with all that money, right? You didn’t let me finish either, your not a bitch, but you are a brat. A lot of people have it way worse than you.”

She smiled wider, “Sure, sure, like your obstinate ass will take what I offer. You know, pride and greed are both sins.”

I made a pssh sound and we kept wandering.

I knew we had to put this to a stop as soon as possible, before I said anything I shouldn’t.

“When we were driving home from Killarney, you- well you get pretty bad when you’re under a bottle but, I think I need to bring this up, not because I think it meant something, but just because I want- I want to clear this up.”

No. No this is the complete opposite direction.

I thought about not saying anymore, I wish I never said anything at all.

“No, I don’t remember at all.”, she said dumbly.

I think I winced up upon hearing that, once I regained my senses, I said my piece.

“You said I ‘looked good’.”

I died inside. This was a situation I’ve been meaning to avoid my entire life, and for some reason I went against all of my instincts and asked.

Even though all of that’s true, somewhere deep down, I felt sick, but in a good way?

I don’t know how to describe that feeling. Maybe something like a weight being lifted from my shoulders? Maybe this is how it feels to die with no regrets.

As my soul left my body, I tilted my head back to let it out. After a century, I brought it back down again to look at her. I gritted my teeth. Her expression didn’t seem to change.

“Yeah. I guess I did.”

…

Now my brain left. Poof, completely de-atomised.

“You’ve gotten pretty beaten up since then though. You should probably set up some sort of skin care routine or… something.” She half closed an eye and leaned in. “Like there’s tons of life hacks online for bags.”

She looked right into my eyes.

After that?

We both started laughing harder than before.

We’re going to hangout again soon.