Pyro

"Hurry up, John," Scott called. "We left Miss Ororo all on her own to face that monster. Any number of things could be happening."

"Yeah, yeah," I rolled my eyes as I jogged to the bus stop. Scott was so far up his girlfriend's ass he refused to believe that she might be Coco for Coco Puffs.

She fucking broke the mansion because of a temper tantrum, and we're literarily rushing towards our death to save her, yet I found myself unable to tell the asshole no…because it was the right thing to do?

Scott was the future leader of the team, and I just had to get with the program if I wanted a future at Xavier's, which, to be honest, was looking more and more bleak.

If it were anywhere else, I'd be out the door, but I found it impossible to shake the old man for some reason.

I found out why the second I touched the railing.

It was like an explosion went off behind my eyes, and I wobbled as the memories came flooding back.

Every conversation with Xavier, every insult, explosion, and escape from that prison he called a school. Turns out, it wasn't the first time I'd had the idea of saying fuck it and striking out on my own.

Xavier had been fucking keeping me at the mansion through mind control. Worst yet, he made me Scott's bitch.

"Get on if you're getting on or leave. Other people want on the bus?" the annoyed bus driver called out. My eyes snapped up at him, and I was fucking livid. The man's mouth clamped shut as he stared at me, a bit apprehensive.

It took all my self-control not to scorch him, realizing that my anger was better placed. My eyes swiveled to Bobby and Scott, who were still reeling from their awakening.

"John?" Bobby called groggily, and I stomped onto the bus, walking past him and grabbing Scott by the scruff of his neck.

Again, I wanted to let it all out and burn like a Supernova until my mutation stopped working.

"I didn't know," Scott said slowly. "He told me nothing. I swear, John."

I shoved him back and clocked him in the face. "I can't believe he forced me to live in your fucking shadow for years."

Bobby grabbed me from behind.

"You're making a scene," he whispered. "I know you're upset."

"Upset!" I scowled. "I'll show you fucking upset!" I snapped my fingers, generating a spark from my glove, and pressed it against Bobby's leg. He let out a scream and fell to the floor, and the entire bus went wild screaming their fucking lungs out.

I snorted as I waved my hand, brandishing the fire before pulling it back and keeping it burning on my fingertips.

"Weak," I spat as I approached the bus's door. The driver was so afraid he'd twisted into a knot, trying to look smaller as I walked past.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

At least he knew his fucking place.

"What have you done!" Scott called out.

"What I wanted to do for fucking years," I said. "Live a fucking little. That old man turned me into somebody I never wanted to be…some fucking tryhard hero.

"Don't come after me," I snarled as I stepped off the bus. "I won't be so nice next time."

---

Everything was a blur from that point on. I moved from bars to parties, drinking, snorting, and fucking everything I could until I found myself in a hotel room with two beautiful women.

Suffice it to say, it was a well-earned comedown from the hellish years I'd had.

A head-splitting headache woke me the next morning, and I sat up to a particular sight. A third woman was sitting in a chair in front of me in her underwear, with the two others still sleeping off the booze. She was drop-dead gorgeous with red hair and an impish smile that suggested she knew more than she should.

"You're quite the party animal," she purred.

"Barely morning, and you're already rearing to go," I grinned. "This almost makes up for the last two years of hell."

She leaned forward. "You talked about that a lot last night. You said something about being brainwashed? I thought it was just the coke and booze talking."

The smile suddenly vanished from my eyes. Last night was a blur, but I had no memories of her. There were flashes of the other two, but her?

I suddenly stretched my hands forward, summoning a ball of fire. Thankfully, I'd chosen to sleep with my gloves on.

"Who are you?"

Her smile deepened. "What is one of Xavier's soldiers doing sleeping through New York and flashing his abilities? Don't tell me you had a falling out?"

I snorted, then let out a loud laugh. "That's the understatement of the fucking year?"

The girl looked perturbed for the first time. "What happened?"

"It's not made the news yet?" I asked, a bit surprised. What I found equally surprising was that I'd not mentioned it during my drunken haze.

"Come out with it?" she demanded, causing a nervous current to ripple through me. It was almost like she forgot that I was holding a fireball.

"He's dead," I declared. "One of his 'students' likely popped him," I said with air quotes. "If you have an axe to grind with the bastard, get in line. Most of the X-men probably want to bring him back so that they can kick the shit out of him."

I saw the redhead's face go through a series of emotions before finally settling on outrage and fury.

"Who did it?"

"Okay, that's enough of that," I said with a frown, feeding the hovering fire in my palm. It glowed brighter. "You need to get the fuck out of my suite, or you'll force me to stop being nice."

"Then, don't," she said flatly, causing me to tilt my head.

This lady had some balls on her. Let's see if she'll keep it in the face of real danger.

I reared my hand back casually, ready to lob my fireball, when my body suddenly seized. A young redhead with striking good looks and glowing red hands entered the room.

Evil Jean!

That's what the guys called her when Professor Hank reviewed the Brotherhood's more recent recruits. She had a redhead just like Jean and an identical powerset.

"Thank you, Wanda," the woman said as her skin rippled. Her clothing disappeared, and her skin turned blue and slightly prickly. Her eyes turned golden like the sun, and my lips quirked at the edges in adoration and recognition.

"Let him speak," she commanded.

"Mystique," I said with a cheshire smile. "You being here just fulfilled 8 of my ten childhood fantasies."

She remained unperturbed as she stared at me. "Who killed him?" she demanded again.

"What do I get if I tell you?"

"Your life."

"Tempting," I said, "but emo Jean over there might kill me regardless."

"What do you want then?" she asked.

"An invitation," I said, earning a raised brow from her.

"The Old man was crafty. He didn't stop at the mutants at his school. He had a lot of people in his back pocket, and like me, they're all starting to remember."

"You want safety," Mystique concluded.

"And to fight with people that are not afraid to hurt their enemies," I flashed her a grin.

Mystique was silent for a long moment before she waved at Wanda. I suddenly fell forward, panting in surprise.

"I will bring you to Magneto," Mystique said. "The rest is up to you."

"Fair," I said. "I prefer to earn my place anyway."

"The name?" she asked again in a lower, slower voice. She looked like she was one word away from ordering the hot redhead to snap my neck.

"Jean Grey," I said with some hesitation. "Either her or the new kid, Dante."

Wanda frowned. "Isn't that the guy that nearly killed Night Kat?"

"Tell me more about Jean Grey and this Dante," Mystique said.