Volume 3: Meristem
Issue 11: Team
Florian Reyes Honeywell
By Roach
“Okay, then.” Amber broke the silence. “Team.” She tasted the word. “Let’s get back to business.” Her tone turned to a sudden authoritativeness, revealing no trace of emotion from the last minutes of conversation. “If the Albatrosses haven’t posted videos yet, they will soon. We’re about to go viral, and we need to think about our branding. Obviously, I’m Spindle. But what about you two?”
Camilo and I looked at each other. While he had told me some of his ideas before—alluding to different performers or theatrical figures—he had never cemented anything.
When no one said anything, Amber continued, “You guys are hopeless.” She pointed to Camilo. “You. Your hero name?”
“I don’t know…” Camilo shrugged. “I was thinking like, Prospero the Wonder Boy, or something?”
“No. Just no,” she replied.
“Why not? It has a classic ring to it.”
His look asked me to come to his defense, but I just shook my head. “Sorry, but I have to agree with Amber on this.”
“Fine, you put me on the spot!” His face reddened. “I’ll work on it.”
“Hm. Florian?” She pointed to me now. “For real, please.”
“Okay, umh…” Before I had any powers, I used to daydream about what kind of hero I could be. What if I were impossibly strong, or able to fly? Would my name be rooted in my powers, or an exciting origin story? But once it actually happened to me, it put a halt to all my daydreams. Nothing killed creativity as quickly as 20,000 parasitic insects possessing one’s body.
As if reading my mind, Amber said, “If you say Bee Man or Bug Boy, I’ll puke.”
I shook my head. Maybe I could entertain something like the Beekeeper. Albeit a bit simplistic, it got the message across. Alternatively, Apiarist had more of a ring to it.
“How about Humbug?” Camilo suggested, stifling a laugh.
“Too stupid. And taken,” Amber said.
“Swarm? Skitter? Yellowjacket?” Camilo said, a teasing smile crossing his lips.
Amber found the suggestions less amusing. “Taken. Next.”
As Camilo continued to list off tangentially bug-related names, I sensed a buzz reverberate within me—the Queen’s chuckle. You? A hero? Ridicule hissed through her pheromones. Even after her chuckle stopped, her hum lingered in the echo of the swarm. She continued, Who are you trying to fool? You’ve only made it this far because of me. The humor in her tone was replaced with a snarl. You’re nothing more than a vessel. A small part of something much larger than you—something larger than you could ever hope to comprehend. And that, Hive, is an honor. Your ungratefulness is a disgrace to the Empire.
As her pheromones rattled through me, I felt that same sickening churning as before. My insides turned upside down, the swarm crawling within me.
“Well? Florian, hello?” Amber said.
“What?” I said, realizing I had missed about half of their discussion.
“What do you think?”
I lingered on the Queen’s word. A vessel, a disgrace… Maybe, but hadn’t I turned that into something good in the end? Hadn’t I helped take down the monster? Help stop Max? Why hadn’t she stopped me then, if she opposed it so much? Could she stop me, or was it all buzz and no sting? Or was it all just “beyond my comprehension,” as she put it?
At least, she had been right about that part. I was part of something much bigger than myself… Or, at least, becoming part of something bigger. Just not in the way she thought. Maybe that was something we could agree on. My mind made up, I finally said:
“Hive.”
I expected the Queen to speak up again. After all, it was the name she had given me. But she didn’t. I didn’t know whether or not I should interpret her silence as surprise, or perhaps if she had found the response to be satisfactory. Either way, when Amber put her hand to her chin, I thought she would shut me down in the same way she had with Camilo. “Alright,” she said after a contemplative pause. “I can work with that.”
Camilo rolled his eyes. “What’s wrong with Prospero?”
Amber sighed. “Star Trek has nothing to do with your powers.”
“What? It’s not Star Trek, it’s…”
“Anyway,” she interrupted, “before we get caught up in details, we need to figure out how to announce ourselves. I think the best way is to post a picture.”
“A picture?” I echoed.
“Together. In costume.”
For what, the news? Camilo also seemed to have an aversion for the idea, as his face scrunched up.
“Do… Do we have to?” I said.
“Do you have any better ideas?”
“I mean, does it have to be this big declaration?”
“Do you expect people to just figure out who we are? That criminals will just come our way, give us work to do?”
“I don’t know…”
“Look, Florian. Image is half the job.”
“Isn’t helping people the job?”
“Duh. Of course. But we need credibility to help people. If no one knows who we are or what we’ve accomplished, they won’t trust us to get shit done. A picture is the best way to show that we’re a team. Show the world that we stand together, ready to face danger. That we’re protectors of Chapel Hill. Of San Francisco, California, the U.S. of A.” She ran her fingers casually through her hair. “Etcetera.”
“Okay, fine,” I relented, mostly because I got the feeling she wouldn’t give up. “The entirety of the nation might be a bit much, but point taken.”
“I don’t know, why not add the world to the list?” Camilo sighed.
“More importantly, we need a photoshoot location.” Without waiting for a reply, Amber started walking down the hallway.
“Hang on.” I followed her. “Where are you going?” Camilo trailed after me, perhaps prompted by the panic edging my voice.
She opened the first door of the hallway. It led to the bathroom. “Decent lighting, lackluster background,” she commented. She closed the door again, heading towards the next one.
“Wait, that’s…” Before I could finish, she opened the second door. “…my parents’ room,” I sighed.
“Hm. Not here, then.” She closed the door, then continued onwards. I caught up to her. “Third time’s the charm,” she said before opening the next door.
It was my bedroom. Although I didn’t really have anything to hide, I was still overwhelmed by a sense of self-awareness. There wasn’t any mess to speak of, but I wouldn’t exactly call the space tidy, either. Rather, its neatness made it feel empty.
“Yours, I take it?” Amber said.
“Yeah…” She seemed to interpret my response as an invitation to go inside. She walked over to my desk, where she examined the different items. I realized that my corkboard still had old deadlines on it, dating back to my last biology assignment. I hadn’t updated it since Mr. Howells’ passing… with one exception. I had pinned the gingko leaf to it—the one I had picked for good luck with Camilo. The membrane had started to turn crispy and brown at the edges.
Additionally, I had placed the Champion action figure I found on the Fairy Gates trail on my desk. He posed on top of my unsolved Rubik’s cube. Now that I had unexpected guests, I became aware—and embarrassed—by the childishness of it.
“Makes sense,” Amber commented after a moment of scrutiny. She circled the room without elaborating, and I didn’t feel the need to ask about the implications. Camilo stood behind me, peering inside over my shoulder. Then, Amber halted, gesturing to the wall next to my closet. “This could work. The backdrop is empty enough that it looks anonymous. The yellow is a bit… bleak, but with the right filters, this can work….”
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“You want to take the photo here?” I said.
“Yep. Any problems?”
I looked over the empty wall. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, she made a point. With the lack of decorations, my room had less personality than the rest of the apartment—making it less identifiable in a photo. Alternatively, we could go outside, but I wasn’t sure where we could discreetly get into costume and take a photo. At least, this would be more effective.
“Not at all,” I sighed.
We took turns getting changed in the bathroom. I was the fastest, considering how all I had to do was step into my beekeeper’s suit. I put the hat on, pulling the veil over my face. Camilo didn’t take too long either. While his costume resembled his usual wear, it was more stylized; instead of a sweater or hoodie, he had a collared shirt with a blazer over it—of course, in all black, tailored to his slender frame. Lastly, he hid his face behind the mask of comedy, frozen in an eternal smile.
Amber took the longest. While she had ditched the cape, the rest of her costume remained the same. Now that I had seen her powers in action, I understood what she was going for with the fringed threads on her mask. That being said, the rhinestones weren’t any less over-the-top now than before. Other than that, she had styled her hair back into a bun with two long braids.
Once she finished changing, she improvised a tripod by stacking my comic books on my office chair. She rolled it to the center of the room, swinging it to face the wall. Lastly, she positioned her cellphone on top of it, letting it lean against my chemistry textbook.
“Alright guys, get into frame.”
Camilo and I positioned ourselves against the wall.
Amber continued to provide instructions: “Florian, move two steps to the left. No, no, my left. And Camilo, just get a smidge closer. But not that much closer. Okay. Okay. I think this is good.” She looked contemplatively at both of us. “Florian, could you use some of your bees to make, like, a heart-shape in the air?”
“In theory,” I said.
“Well?” she said, expectantly.
“I won’t.”
“People might find them more appealing that way,” she countered.
“They’re not supposed to be appealing.”
“Then how about an illusion?” Amber turned to Camilo now.
He crossed his arms over his chest. “Doesn’t work on cameras. Can we get this over with?”
“Fine,” she sighed. She tapped her phone screen a couple of times, and informed us that it had been set on a timer. Then she quickly positioned herself between Camilo and I. “Say cheeeese!” she grinned.
“Cheese,” Camilo said dryly.
I did my best to look toward the camera. Although, with the veil covering my face, no one would really be able to tell anyways. After a couple of seconds, the phone produced a shutter sound. Amber walked over to her phone, then examined it.
“Hm. Let’s do a second take,” she said.
“What’s wrong with it?” Camilo asked.
“Florian, you need to be standing up straighter.”
I rolled my eyes—again, to no effect, as no one could see it through my veil. “You got a photo,” I said. “I’m done.”
“Come on. This will go on record as our first photo. Forever. And if you really want to be a hero, you’re going to have to handle things far worse than some pictures.”
The photo wasn’t really annoying me as much as her attitude about the whole ordeal, but I held my tongue. I didn’t want to pick a fight so soon—at least, not over something so small. “Okay. Last one,” I said.
As I faced the camera again, I noticed a distorted shape on the window. Outside, a group of bees crawled over the glass. The bees I had left behind at Chapel High, I realized.
We finished the second photo. Amber checked her phone. “This is it,” she said, then pocketed her phone. “I’ll post it tonight,” she said.
“So, we’re done here?” Camilo said.
“Yep,” Amber affirmed.
I headed over to the window and opened it. The bees filtered inside, swarming around my head. I looked back at Amber and Camilo, who took an uncertain step aside.
“Sorry, I, umh…” I wasn’t really sure what I was apologizing for. I didn’t want to leave the bees swarming at my window where they could cause suspicion, but I hadn’t really considered Amber and Camilo’s comfort either. “I’ll see you guys at school?” I tried, changing the topic.
“Yeah, see you later,” Camilo said.
The two of them had changed back to their everyday clothes, and headed homewards. When I glanced out my window, I could see them going their separate ways. The sun had started to set, hugging the city in an orange hue.
Once they were gone, I changed into new clothes and bagged the shirt Max had punched through, then trashed it. It was too far gone for me to fix, and I didn’t want to leave any potential clues for my parents to discover around the apartment.
Some of the swarm returned to my body, while others roamed my bedroom. I closed the curtains. As I stood alone in my room, everything that had happened started to sink in. Although I wasn’t sleepy, I somehow felt worn out. I was tired, I realized. Maybe not physically, but mentally. And I longed for a sleep that would never come.
I laid down in my bed and stared at the ceiling. I wasn’t really sure how I felt—or how I was supposed to feel. I wanted to be excited, but worry gnawed at my thoughts. Maybe we had stopped anyone else from getting hurt, but Max was still at the hospital… I wondered what had happened since we left Chapel High, considering the state we had left things.
But maybe there was a way to find out. I grabbed my phone, and looked up PowerWatch. I didn’t have to scroll to find the newest article on Chapel High, which had been posted about twenty minutes ago.
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YET ANOTHER POWERFIGHT AT CHAPEL HILL HIGH RAISES CONCERN
AMELIA SCHAAL
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San Francisco, February 9th. The quiet after the storm did not last long at Chapel Hill High School. After the tragedy two weeks ago—whereas a mysterious creature appeared in the school’s theater, possibly killing a teacher before anonymous heroes eliminated it—most would think that the worst was over. Yet, this afternoon, the school faced yet another tragedy.
During an afterschool practice game for the school’s team “the Albatrosses,” a sudden powerfight erupted on the sports field. One of the students, whose identity remains undisclosed, lashed out with super-strength against fellow classmates.
I got the feeling that “undisclosed” didn’t mean that they weren’t aware of Max’s identity. With all the witnesses and footage, there was no way the police didn’t know. It seemed more likely that they wanted to protect his identity until they had a better idea of what was going on. I continued reading, searching the article for Max’s fate,
Shortly thereafter, three unknown heroes appeared on the scene. While their identities remain anonymous, police investigators suspect that they are connected to the previous powerfight in the theater. Witness reports are conflicting, but it appears that the heroes had powers related to psychological effects, light, and a swarm of bees. The trio successfully stopped the student from causing any harm, but abandoned the scene in the aftermath. The student in question has been hospitalized, but is reported to be in stable condition and rendered powerless. While the high school is once again left in shock, no one else got hurt during the incident.
The cause of the sudden outburst is still being investigated, but police believe that it’s somehow related to an unusual plant discovered in the school’s greenhouse. When asked whether or not the plant had any relationship to the creature in the theater, the police stated that this possibility has been neither confirmed nor disaffirmed.
The Albatross’ quarterback, Daniel McRunnel (16), commented the following after witnessing the event: “It’s really crazy how this stuff keeps happening at Chapel High. I’m just glad everyone’s okay, but don’t let anyone think that this is going to stop us from beating Mission next week.” While the football team appears to be in shock, the incident seems to only have strengthened their team spirit.
PowerWatch will continue to report on the Chapel Hill incidents as the story unfolds. Follow us on social media to make sure you’re up to date on all the recent happenings in the Bay.
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As I read through the article, some of my bees started to roam the bedroom. Some flitted around me, others hovered by the window. Once I finished reading, I watched them fly in circles above me. I was left with a strange feeling. It was weird reading about myself—although the reporter barely mentioned me. Rather, she mentioned my bees, which was still more concrete than her interpretation of Camilo and Amber’s powers. “Psychological effects” was a vague description for Camilo, but still more accurate than her interpretation of Spindle.
Maybe Amber had a point about branding, after all. If this was all someone had to go off, we came across as somewhat incoherent.
Nevertheless, the report put some of my worries at ease. Max was stable. And no one got hurt. That sounded like a victory, on the surface… But even as I tried to tell myself that, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. What was that plant? How did it control Max? Was it just a coincidence that it appeared so shortly after the monster did? The reporter hinted at the possibility that it wasn’t, even when the police seemed reluctant to draw any connection between the two incidents.
Just then, my phone buzzed, drawing my attention back to the screen. It alerted me that I had been invited to a group chat by the name Team Team, which I wasn’t really sure what to make of. The group included Camilo, and a number I didn’t recognize.
> Unknown: The insta post is up!! ;)
It must be Amber, I realized. I wasn’t entirely sure how she got my number—maybe from Camilo? I saved her in my contacts, and clicked on the link she had sent us. It led me to the @ChapelConfessional account, showing the following post:
[https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/zPij8BGRKe48w5tMuH_CZVVqCEa_8jp0oLpUYKAWAEoH_2bRmhRpqI69z0IeUWnyWV0OOwsy58h2HX6QmSWN07Mwc66ap0N-HjlVYkBl7ka7-h_Gsy_9bIajVEP4zvGgYeYDG4CuWFLH2u1lIVjUBUY]
The group chat started buzzing:
> Camilo: i never agreed to being stagehand!
> Amber: Then who ARE you???
> Camilo: …idk
> Amber: But Stagehand sounds GOOD. Right Florian??
I smiled to myself, as if the reality finally hit me. This wasn’t how I thought it would happen, but even so, it didn’t change the outcome. We saved the day. The execution had been less than perfect, but in the end, we stopped anyone from getting hurt… And that’s what mattered.
I replied,
> Me: It sounds great
> Amber: See?
I put my phone to sleep. The group chat kept buzzing, but instead of checking my notifications, I closed my eyes. My insides bristled, but—for once—the swarm tingled with excitement instead of nervousness. I was still apprehensive about working with Amber, but even so… Today, we made it through. It was a start.
We were going to be heroes.
I could be a hero.