Sam sat by the window in Café Luna, poking at the foam art in his cappuccino with a tiny spoon. The café was bustling, packed with students chatting over textbooks and locals scrolling through their phones. The smell of fresh espresso and pastries filled the air, and soft indie music played just loud enough to be ignored. It was cozy, calm, and the perfect place to recover from the chaos of yesterday’s Segway fiasco.
The little bell above the door jingled, and Sam glanced up to see Lily walk in. She scanned the room, her eyes lighting up when she spotted him. As she made her way to the table, Sam couldn’t help but notice how she somehow made a simple sweater and jeans look effortlessly cool.
“Hey, you,” she said, sliding into the seat across from him. “You look like you’ve been through it.”
Sam smirked, setting down his spoon. “That obvious?”
“You’re poking your coffee like it owes you money,” Lily teased, resting her chin on her hand. “What happened?”
Sam leaned back in his chair, letting out a dramatic sigh. “Let’s just say my first day as a sidekick was... eventful.”
Lily perked up, clearly intrigued. “Oh, this I have to hear. Spill.”
Sam hesitated, then launched into a retelling of yesterday’s mission with Leaflord, sparing no detail. He described the Segway, the gardener, the “sacred” plants, and, of course, the humiliating tumble onto the sidewalk. By the time he got to Leaflord blaming the curb on “The Hedge Trimmer’s villainy,” Lily was laughing so hard she nearly knocked over her latte.
“No way,” she said between giggles. “He really said that?”
“Word for word,” Sam confirmed, shaking his head. “I don’t even know how I kept a straight face.”
Lily leaned back, wiping her eyes. “Okay, this guy sounds insane, but I kind of love it. Please tell me you’re sticking with this.”
Sam shrugged. “Depends on the pay. For all I know, they’ll send me a coupon for mulch and call it a day.”
Lily grinned. “Only one way to find out.”
Sam pulled out his phone, heart thudding as he opened the HeroForHire app. A notification at the top of the screen read: “Payment received!”
“Moment of truth,” he said, tapping on the message. His eyes widened slightly as the payment amount appeared: $150.00.
“Okay,” he muttered. “Not bad.”
Lily leaned over, peering at the screen. “One-fifty? That’s actually pretty good. Especially for one day.”
“I know, right?” Sam said, still staring at the number like it might disappear. “That’s better than I made in two days at Crème de Maison.”
Lily smirked. “Told you this sidekick thing had potential. What’s the catch?”
Sam scrolled down and found a message attached to the payment. He read it aloud, his voice dripping with mock seriousness:
“Sapling, your contribution to the noble cause of greenery preservation has not gone unnoticed. Let this payment serve as both a reward and a reminder of our shared mission. Together, we will ensure a future where every leaf and stem may thrive in peace. Yours in foliage, Leaflord.”
By the time he finished, Lily was choking on laughter. “Oh my God, he really is that dramatic.”
“You have no idea,” Sam said, shaking his head. “The guy talks to plants like they’re his kids. Yesterday, he called a fern ‘brave.’”
Lily’s laughter subsided into a wide grin. “Okay, but honestly? This sounds way more fun than waiting tables or grading essays. You might’ve found your calling.”
Sam raised an eyebrow. “My calling? Following a guy in green spandex while he yells at gardeners?”
“Exactly,” Lily said, sipping her coffee. “Think about it—you’re getting paid, you’re technically helping people, and you’ll have the best stories at parties.”
Sam chuckled, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “Fair point. Although, if my next gig involves another Segway, I’m out.”
“Deal,” Lily said, holding up her latte like a toast. “Here’s to surviving sidekick life.”
Sam clinked his coffee cup against hers, feeling a little lighter. Sure, the job was ridiculous, but for $150, he could handle a little drama.
The café was still buzzing around them, but Sam barely noticed. He couldn’t stop staring at the $150 on his phone. He refreshed the page twice, just to make sure it wasn’t a glitch.
“Dude,” Lily said, poking him with her fork. “Are you okay? You’ve been staring at that thing like it’s about to ask you to prom.”
Sam blinked, snapping out of his daze. “Sorry. I’m just... shocked, I guess. I mean, I basically fell off a Segway and got yelled at by a gardener, and I made $150 for it.”
“That’s the gig economy for you,” Lily said, grinning. “Ridiculous, but somehow better than working retail.”
Sam leaned back in his chair, letting out a laugh. “Yeah, but now I’m worried. What if my next mission is, like, stopping an actual crime? Do I look like someone who can take down a bank robber?”
Lily tilted her head, pretending to evaluate him. “Hmm. I don’t know. Maybe if the robber was really clumsy and you had, like, a stick or something.”
“Very reassuring, thanks,” Sam said, rolling his eyes.
Lily shrugged, stealing a piece of his muffin. “Hey, you’re getting paid to be ridiculous. Just embrace it. Besides, you’ve got Leaflord. He sounds like he’d monologue a villain into submission.”
Sam laughed, imagining Leaflord lecturing a criminal about the importance of composting. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”
Just as he was starting to relax, his phone buzzed again. He glanced at the screen and groaned.
“New Mission Alert: Meet Leaflord at Midtown Park at 4 PM.”
“Speaking of Leaflord,” Sam muttered, showing Lily the notification. “Looks like I’m back on the clock.”
Lily smirked. “What’s the mission this time? Saving another bush from tyranny?”
Sam opened the details, scanning the description. His eyes narrowed as he read aloud: “Assist Leaflord in investigating suspicious activity involving invasive species.”
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Lily nearly spit out her coffee. “Invasive species? What does that even mean? Are you fighting weeds now?”
“Knowing him, probably,” Sam said, shoving his phone into his pocket. “Why do I feel like this is going to end with me covered in dirt?”
Lily reached over, patting his hand dramatically. “Because you’ve accepted your fate, Sapling.”
Sam groaned. “Don’t start calling me that.”
“I can’t promise anything,” Lily said, grinning. “But hey, $150 is $150. Go save the world, one invasive species at a time.”
----------------------------------------
By the time Sam reached Midtown Park, he was already regretting his decision to show up. The sun was starting to set, casting long shadows over the trees, and the air was heavy with the smell of freshly cut grass. Leaflord’s Segway was parked by a bench, and the man himself stood nearby, holding his vine-wrapped staff like he was posing for the cover of a very niche superhero magazine.
“Ah, Sapling!” Leaflord called out, his voice echoing across the park. “You’re prompt. I admire that in a sidekick.”
Sam walked over, hands in his hoodie pockets. “Hey. So, what’s the plan? Are we battling dandelions or something?”
Leaflord’s eyes gleamed with intensity. “Not dandelions, no. Something far more insidious. Follow me.”
Sam followed him toward a cluster of flower beds, where a small patch of strange-looking plants had taken root. Their leaves were spiky and unnatural, and they seemed to shimmer slightly in the fading light.
“These,” Leaflord said, pointing dramatically at the plants, “are the invaders.”
Sam squinted at them. “They’re weeds.”
“They are not mere weeds,” Leaflord snapped, turning to face him. “These are Kudzu Maleficus—a scourge upon our greenery. Left unchecked, they will strangle the life out of these native flora!”
Sam stared at the plants, then back at Leaflord. “They’re literally just sitting there.”
“That’s what they want you to think,” Leaflord said darkly. “But mark my words, Sapling, they are plotting. And we must act before it’s too late.”
Sam crossed his arms. “So, what’s the plan? Pull them up and call it a day?”
Leaflord shook his head. “No, no. This requires precision. Strategy. We must eliminate the Kudzu Maleficus without disturbing the innocent plants around them.”
Sam sighed. “Okay, but... how?”
Leaflord reached into his cape and pulled out a pair of gardening gloves. “With these.”
Sam stared at the gloves, then at Leaflord. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Do I look like I jest?” Leaflord asked, holding the gloves out to him.
Reluctantly, Sam took the gloves and pulled them on. “You know, when I signed up for this, I thought I’d be, like, helping people. Not gardening.”
“Plants are people, in their own way,” Leaflord said, crouching beside the flower bed. “Now, watch carefully. This is an art.”
What followed was the most unnecessarily dramatic weeding session Sam had ever witnessed. Leaflord narrated every move like he was performing brain surgery, explaining the “delicate balance” of the ecosystem and the “hidden resilience” of the Kudzu Maleficus. By the time they were done, Sam’s back ached, and his hands were covered in dirt despite the gloves.
“Victory!” Leaflord declared, holding up a single uprooted weed like it was a trophy. “The invaders have been vanquished!”
Sam sat back on the grass, exhausted. “Yeah, great. Can I go home now?”
Leaflord clapped him on the shoulder. “Not yet, Sapling. We must dispose of the bodies.”
Sam groaned. “You mean throw them in the trash?”
Leaflord frowned. “Not just any trash. They must be incinerated, lest their seeds spread further.”
“Of course they do,” Sam muttered, getting to his feet.
As they made their way to the park’s maintenance area, Sam couldn’t help but laugh. It was ridiculous, exhausting, and maybe a little pointless, but somehow, he didn’t mind. After all, $150 was $150—and at least he wasn’t waiting tables.
Sam trudged behind Leaflord, a garbage bag filled with the so-called Kudzu Maleficus slung over his shoulder like he was hauling radioactive waste. The bag sagged awkwardly, leaving a faint trail of dirt as they walked toward the maintenance shed.
“So,” Sam began, adjusting the bag to avoid tearing it, “why exactly can’t we just toss these in the regular trash? You really think they’re going to, what, sprout legs and come after us?”
Leaflord stopped mid-stride, spinning on his heel to face Sam with the gravitas of a man delivering a closing argument in court. “Sapling, you underestimate the tenacity of invasive species. The seeds of Kudzu Maleficus can germinate in the most hostile environments—trash heaps, construction sites, even within the cracks of despair.”
Sam stared at him, incredulous. “The cracks of despair? Are we still talking about weeds?”
“Yes!” Leaflord declared, brandishing his vine-covered staff like a sword. “Do not mock their resilience. Many heroes have fallen because they underestimated their enemy.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “Pretty sure those heroes were fighting actual villains, not plants.”
Leaflord squinted at him. “You would do well to respect nature’s darker side.”
“Oh, I respect nature,” Sam shot back, dropping the bag on the ground with a puff of dirt. “I respect grass, trees, even the occasional cactus. But this?” He gestured at the bag. “This is just aggressive landscaping.”
Leaflord opened his mouth to respond, but before he could unleash another monologue, an elderly man pushing a wheelbarrow of mulch strolled past, eyeing them with mild suspicion.
“Evening,” the man said, tipping his hat.
Leaflord froze, his grip tightening on his staff. “The enemy approaches.”
Sam groaned, recognizing the man as the same gardener from yesterday. “That’s not the Hedge Trimmer. That’s just a guy trying to do his job.”
“No job is innocent when it involves the destruction of flora!” Leaflord hissed.
The gardener paused a few feet away, squinting at the duo. “You two still out here causing trouble?”
Leaflord pointed his staff at the man like it was a weapon. “Stay back, Trimmer, unless you wish to face the wrath of justice!”
The gardener blinked, unimpressed. “You’re holding a stick covered in leaves.”
“This is a sacred staff!” Leaflord bellowed. “And you, sir, are a defiler of greenery!”
Sam buried his face in his hands, trying to disappear into the ground. “Oh my god, please stop.”
The gardener sighed, clearly too tired to care. “Look, I don’t know what your deal is, but if you’re dumping stuff, the compost bins are over there.” He pointed to a row of bins near the shed, then walked off muttering something about “damn kids these days.”
Leaflord stood frozen, visibly offended. “The audacity…”
“Yeah,” Sam said, hoisting the garbage bag again, “real villain energy there. He practically oozes malice.”
Leaflord ignored the sarcasm, turning toward the bins. “Come, Sapling. We must ensure the Kudzu Maleficus is disposed of properly.”
Sam dragged the bag over to the compost bins, throwing it in with more force than necessary. “There. Done. Can I go home now?”
Leaflord peered into the bin, nodding solemnly. “The park is safe once more. You have done well, Sapling.”
Sam brushed dirt off his hoodie. “Great. Do I get a medal or something?”
“Your reward,” Leaflord intoned, “is the knowledge that you have aided in the eternal struggle against invasive tyranny.”
Sam stared at him. “Cool. Can I trade that in for cash?”
Leaflord chuckled, patting him on the back. “Ah, Sapling, your humor is as refreshing as a morning dew. Come, let us depart.”
As they walked back toward the park’s entrance, Sam couldn’t help but wonder how his life had reached this point. Just last week, he was debating whether it was worth selling old textbooks to make rent. Now, he was hauling bags of weeds for a guy in a leaf cape.
Leaflord, of course, was still talking.
“Did you know,” he said, his voice rising like a professor mid-lecture, “that the average dandelion can produce up to 15,000 seeds in its lifetime? Such prolificacy is both admirable and terrifying.”
“That’s fascinating,” Sam deadpanned. “Truly riveting stuff.”
“Indeed!” Leaflord said, completely missing the sarcasm. “It is a reminder of nature’s duality—both its beauty and its capacity for chaos.”
Sam sighed. “Speaking of chaos, where’s your Segway?”
Leaflord stopped, looking around. “Ah. I must have left it near the flower beds.”
Sam groaned, turning back toward the park. “Seriously? You couldn’t have mentioned that before we walked all the way over here?”
Leaflord waved a hand dismissively. “Worry not, Sapling. The Segway is a loyal steed. It will await my return.”
Sam rubbed his temples. “I need to lie down.”
When Sam finally made it back to his dorm later that night, he collapsed onto his bed without bothering to take off his shoes. His phone buzzed in his pocket, but he ignored it, too tired to care if it was another mission or just a notification about overdue bills.
Kyle, his roommate, poked his head out from the top bunk. “Rough day?”
Sam groaned into his pillow. “I spent three hours pulling weeds and arguing with a gardener.”
Kyle grinned. “Sounds like you’re living the dream.”
Sam rolled onto his back, glaring at the ceiling. “If this is the dream, I want a refund.”
His phone buzzed again, and he reluctantly pulled it out to check. It was another message from HeroForHire, this one confirming the payment for today’s mission: $150.00.
Sam stared at the screen for a moment, then smiled despite himself. Ridiculous as it was, at least it was paying the bills.
Kyle watched him, raising an eyebrow. “You okay? You look... weirdly happy.”
Sam shrugged, tossing the phone onto his desk. “Yeah. I guess I am.”
“Cool,” Kyle said, lying back down. “But if you start naming houseplants, I’m staging an intervention.”
Sam laughed, closing his eyes. “Deal.”
As exhaustion finally pulled him under, he thought about Leaflord’s dramatic speeches and the absurdity of it all. It was ridiculous. It was chaotic. And, strangely enough, it was starting to feel... kind of worth it.