Hope
-NEW MESSAGE RECEIVED-
Ms. Hastings
This is the third month in a row that you’ve missed out on your rental payment. I understand the direness of your financial situation, but if I don’t receive the rent by the end of the month, I will have no choice but to evict you.
Sincerely
Mr. Robinski
-PRESS DELETE-
-ARE YOU SURE YOU WOULD LIKE TO DELETE THIS MESSAGE?-
-CONFIRM-
-MESSAGE DELETED-
"Done and done.” Hope smiled proudly. The crisis had been averted, for now.
“Oh, we are so not done here, missy!” Came a voice from the other side of the counter. She peered over to see a grumpy little boy with his hands wrapped around his waist.
She greeted him with her professional voice. “Welcome to Star Diner, where the food is out of this world. May I have your order, please?”
“I want a Power Meal with the Vega action figure. You know, the one where she’s kicking a villain’s butt? I went to the Star Diner in Aldonia District, but the lady there said that they didn’t have any. You guys still have those, right? It’s the last one I need for my collection.” He beamed at her with huge, expectant eyes.
“Sorry, kid,” she answered. “The Vega line of toys was discontinued six months ago. You can still get a Power Meal with a Dr. Korren action figures. Would you like that?”
The boy looked at Hope in disbelief. The word “no” faintly escaped from his lips and he got red in the face. Just as he was about to burst into an avalanche of angry whining, his mother came and pulled him away from the counter. The poor lady gave Hope an apologetic smile before hurriedly leaving the fast-food joint.
“Come again!” Hope told them, as was the courtesy, but they were already gone.
Next in line was a bespectacled young man. He had long unkempt hair and was fidgeting with pale, skinny fingers.
Hope delivered the company greeting to his face. “Welcome to Star Diner, where the food is out of this world. May I have your order, please?”
“Yeah, I’m here to pick up takeout for a Mister Marcel?”
Upon hearing that name, something came over Hope. She forgot her courtesies. She forgot her job. All she wanted to do was pull this man over the counter and interrogate him for all he was worth. But before she could do something idiotic, the sensible part of her brain kicked in. “Oh, pardon me. I didn’t quite catch that. Could you repeat that name?” She forced herself to smile and spoke with practiced professionalism.
“Mister Marcel. I-I-Is there a problem?” he asked, sweat dripping down his chin.
Crap.
For a brief moment, she lost control and spoke much louder than she had intended. “How do you know Marcel?” she demanded. Her voice had all the bitterness of a grizzled detective. Just as the words left her mouth, Hope became aware of all the eyes that were on her. They were whispering. About her.
Shit.
She smiled and waved to defuse the situation. “Oh, it’s just… I was surprised that you knew such a big businessman. I had no idea he got takeout from Star Diner. Wow, this is such an honor. He must pay you a ton of money.”
The young man looked around uneasily. “Can I have my order?”
“Of course! Coming right up.”
Hope pressed a few buttons on the cash register and handed the young man his bill. The crowd had gone back to its usual disinterested silence.
Phew! Bullet dodged.
“So, how’s Mr. Marcel doing these days?” She leaned on the counter and smiled.
“I…I don’t know.” The young man shrugged nervously. “Can I have my order, please?”
A familiar voice erupted from the kitchen behind her. “Oh, give it a rest, Hopie. Are you trying to kill the guy?” Sebastian emerged from the kitchen door. He was holding a greasy bag of chili fries in one hand and a pair of foggy glasses in another.
He handed the bag to the young man and said, “There you go, pal. The bill’s on me.”
“B-but sir, I couldn’t possibly…”
“Yes, you can, and yes, you will. Say hi to Tareeq for me, ‘mkay?”
The young man said nothing. He took the bag from Sebastian, thanked him with a nod, and walked away with the free dinner.
Hope looked first to the young man, who had already left, and then to Sebastian, who was in the middle of leaving for the kitchen.
She grabbed him by his skinny arm and said, “Hey! What was that about?”
“Jeez, Hopie!” Sebastian giggled. “Holding my hand in public? You’re gonna give people the wrong idea.”
She smacked him over the head. This time, the crowd gave no response.
“Ow! Okay. I’ll tell you later. Just get back to work for now, ‘mkay?”
She sighed and let go of his arm. “Fine! Hey, remind me, why are you working here, anyway? Your parents are filthy rich.”
He looked visibly offended by her remark. “Okay, first of all, we’re not filthy rich. We’re adequately well-off. Secondly, someone’s gotta make sure you don’t get in trouble.”
“Oh please, I can do fine on my own,” she groaned. “Trust me, I got everything under control.”
Someone smacked the cashier’s counter and called out in an enraged voice. “Is someone gonna get me mah goddamn food? I’m starving over here!”
Hope looked behind to see a long line of angry customers. She pretended to ignore them. “See? All under control.”
A loud murmur of angry boos and jeers followed.
Sebastian shook his head. “Really not helping your case, Hopie. Do your job. Finish up your shift. Then we’ll talk.”
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“Okay.” She sighed dejectedly and resigned herself back to the counter.
Hope didn’t hate her job. She disliked the customers, the constant yelling, the angry complaints, and the pathetic flirting attempts, but she didn’t dislike her work. The work made her money. Which was more than she could say about her previous job. So, she was content with working at Star Diner. At least, for the time being.
Soon, the cash registers started ringing with the sweet jingle of banknotes. Hope wondered if she could steal the money behind her manager’s back. It would easily take care of her rent problem. But she quickly discarded the thought and let her mind drift off elsewhere.
The T.V. set over the counter was airing the evening news. “Huh! It must be 6 pm,” she thought. Her shift was nearly over.
The news broadcaster began with her usual set of headlines. “In the third incident this month, an elderly gentleman’s car was stolen by the Viper gang at 5:25 pm. With the suspects still on the loose, the police force’s capability is being called into question. The crime rate in Haven City has gone up by 12% since the disappearance of Vega. The masked vigilante had singlehandedly taken down several crime families, drug mafia, and thieves that blighted our beloved town for so long. With the resurgence of crime in the city, people have just one question on their minds, where is Vega? Next up on News Nation, your number one destination for the latest and the hottest, who is President Norton’s newest mistress? Right after this commercial break. Stay tuned!”
By 7 pm, most of the customers had already vacated the diner. Hope and Sebastian were on clean-up duty, so, they stayed behind.
Sebastian hummed a soft tune as he dragged his mop across the floor. “Hmm hmm hmm. Dee dum dee dum dee dum.”
“So, mind telling me what that was all about?” Hope demanded as she busied herself with wiping the tables.
“I sort of ID’d the dude when you were interrogating him.”
“How?”
Sebastian pointed to his glasses. Upon closer inspection, Hope noticed a sophisticated mechanism on the edge of the silver frame. “Used a bit of tech from your Vega mask. Child’s play, really. Wanna know who he was picking up for?”
“Got me,” Hope shrugged.
“Tareeq Siddiqui. Immigrant from Wadin.”
“From where?” she asked.
“Wadin,” he groaned. “As in, the great Wadin Empire. Many folks have been coming from there since the wall came down. Do you never read the news?”
“I sort of zoned out after the Vega segment,” she admitted sheepishly.
“Of course, you did.” He shook his head. “Anyway, Tareeq immigrated from Wadin about three months ago. He’s got no papers, no job, nothing. Poor guy’s barely getting by. Wanted to try out the local fast food. So, he saved up for a few weeks, dialed the phone, and ordered under the most popular name he’d heard of. His roommate, the skinny dude, caught wind of it and decided to save him the trouble by picking up for him. I guess there’s still some goodness left in humanity.”
“You got all that from a simple ID check?” Hope raised an eyebrow at him.
Sebastian shrugged and blushed. “What can I say? I’m just that good.”
Hope collapsed dejectedly into a chair. “So, he wasn’t actually connected to Marcel? That’s it, then. Just another dead end.”
Sebastian pursed his lips and lowered his gaze. “I’m sorry, Hopie. I swear we’ll find a real lead soon.”
Hope pushed her face into her palms. Seven years she’d protected the city as the moonlighting hero of justice. And what had that gotten her? Terrible grades, zero financial security, and back pain that she swore was going to kill her someday. Some part of her thought it was worth it for the love of the people. But now, she was deprived of even that.
Perfect. Just perfect.
Sebastian crouched down next to her. “Hey, It’s okay. We’ll find another lead. You promised to take him down, didn’t you? We’re gonna do it. No matter how long it takes. We are gonna clear your name. We’re gonna bring Vega back, together.”
Hope exhaled sharply. “Vega’s dead, Seb. I think it’s time we accepted that.”
The main door was pulled open, letting the cool Lucidean breeze in before snapping back into position. The air was thick with the smell of imported cigarettes. They heard heavy footsteps.
“We’re closed,” Sebastian answered, without looking up.
“That’s okay,” the stranger replied. “I’m simply here to see a certain individual.”
Hope wiped her tears and tried to identify him. The man appeared to be of Regalian descent. He breathed in from his cigarette and blew a gust of smoke in their direction. Then, he seated himself on one of the corner benches and set his legs atop the table. He ran four delicate fingers through his golden-brown ponytail and let a lock of hair fall over his muscular shoulders.
He looked exactly like the sort of rich prick Hope had taken down more than once. The man wore a deep-blue vest embroidered with a lion’s symbol that looked almost tight over his chest. The blood-red tie complemented the color of his eyes, which looked like rubies drenched in the milky white of his sclera.
Hope didn’t say a word. She seemed content to stare at the stranger until he started making sense. Sebastian, however, was not as patient. “Uh-huh? And umm who’s this certain individual you’re looking for supposed to be?”
The man blew another gust of smoke and tossed away his cigarette. He finally looked at the duo with a cocky grin and spoke, “Miss Hope Hastings. It’s a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance.”
Hope wondered where she’d heard his voice before but nothing came to mind. He was a complete stranger and yet he spoke with such an air of familiarity that she couldn’t help feeling like she’d known him for years. “Have we met before?”
He shook his head. “Well, not personally. But I am familiar with your work.”
“What work?” She raised an eyebrow at him.
The man looked to Sebastian for a response but he was too dumbfounded to even speak. Once again, he grinned, “Oh, I’m sure you know the answer to that, Vega.”
Shit.
Hope searched the depths of her mind for a witty response. She wanted to say something along the lines of “What? Me? Vega? You’re kidding, right?” But the shock of his words was so great that her voice died in her throat. In all her seven years as a vigilante, no one, not one person had ever deduced her secret identity. She’d almost prided herself on the fact. The only people that knew were Sebastian and the police captain.
Until now.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” He giggled. “Anyway, I’m sure you’re wondering as to the reason for my visit.”
Hope didn’t answer him. Sebastian tried, but one look at the man shut him up for good.
“I’ve come to you with a mutually beneficial agreement. Does the name Roland ring a bell?”
Hope recalled her encounter with Don Marcel. How could she ever forget that terrible night? His words were still etched into her mind. “Mr. Roland sends his regards.” She gave the man a simple nod.
“From what I’ve heard, you harbor some sort of resentment for the man, correct?”
“He means nothing to me.” She protested. “Marcel is the one that-”
The strange man raised his voice, “Don Marcel is merely a pawn of this insidious man. Put him behind bars, he’ll be replaced by another Marcel in under a week. If you wish to make a lasting impact, you must strike at the jugular.” He smiled and pointed to his neck.
“Why do you care, anyway? What’s it gotta do with you?” she demanded.
Hope watched as he walked all around the diner with his left hand behind his back. His gaze was seemingly fixated on a ring adorned on his fourth finger. “Let’s just say that you’re not the only one who’s been wronged by that devil.”
Hope looked to Sebastian for information on the stranger. He was speechless. He tried taking off his glasses, cleaning them, and putting them back on again. But no amount of scanning gave him any information on this person.
“Who are you?” Hope asked once more.
“That is irrelevant. The important part, Miss Hastings, is that I’m looking to create a task force that can put down that son of a bitch for good. And you, as it were, would be an immensely valuable asset to this team.”
Hope gave him no answer.
He continued. “The preparations are already in place. Your duties will be simple. Follow my orders and carry out your tasks. You do that and soon enough, you will be able to return to your glory days as the Ghost of Haven City. So, what do you say?”
Hope contemplated his words for a moment. Then, she took a deep breath and answered, “I’ll have to say… no.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Oh, maybe I wasn’t clear enough. I meant hell no! You’re obviously planning something illegal. I’m not gonna be a part of that. I’m not that desperate.”
The stranger was taken aback. Nonetheless, he smiled and nodded. “Very well. You seem dead set on being remembered as a criminal. I won’t get in your way.”
Hope looked around the diner. She was still under camera surveillance. If they’d been anywhere else, she would’ve pinned him to the ground for even suggesting that she was a criminal.
At least, they don’t capture audio.
She cleared her throat and spoke without the slightest hint of hesitation in her voice. “You should leave.”
The stranger raised his arms in surrender and laughed. “Fine. You win. Just remember: This city’s last memory of Vega will be that of a terrorist. Now, I don’t consider myself a negotiator but in case you do come around, I’ll be waiting.” He crouched over, placed his business card on the table, and walked away.
Before he left, the stranger stopped for a moment, thanked Hope for her time, and left. For the brief moment that the door was open, the cold breezes of Haven City came through and hit their faces like a bag of needles.
Right as the door slammed shut, Sebastian ran over to the stranger’s table and picked up his card.
“What’s it say?” Hope asked, wondering if her secret identity was safe with him
“It… looks like a sort of visiting card,” answered Sebastian. He held it up to her face.
The rear cover of the card bore a curious emblem. It was the outline of a phoenix perched atop a crucifix. The design was remarkably intricate and appeared to be etched in gold on the glossy paper.
And then, he turned it around.
On the other side of the card, was a phone number, followed by a name printed in cursive letters. It was a name that both of them would come to remember for the rest of their lives.
TRENT MORNINGSTAR