Timeline: November 11, 1950
The warm glow of the setting sun filtered through the trees, casting playful shadows over the park where Emily Hawkins and Mark Fletcher sat together on a weathered bench. The soft rustle of leaves provided a gentle backdrop to their laughter.
"You know, I really like this—just the two of us bonding, dating." Emily said, a content smile on her face as she glanced at Mark.
Mark chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Yeah, I like this too. It's nice to take a break from everything."
But as the conversation continued, a familiar shadow loomed. "But why do you always mention Michael every time we're together?" Emily's tone held a mix of curiosity and something deeper—an undercurrent of jealousy.
Mark raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "Are you jealous?" He leaned back, crossing his arms, a playful smirk on his lips.
Emily rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a smile. "Well, Michael is your best friend and my friend too, but still! I can't help it. You always talk about him!"
Mark's expression softened, understanding her concern. "How could I not? He changed me. He made me who I am now—he's the reason I became Nightwing, you know that." His voice held a hint of admiration, reflecting the bond he shared with Michael.
Emily sighed, a mix of frustration and affection swirling within her. She watched him as he spoke, the passion evident in his eyes. It was hard to compete with someone who had played such a pivotal role in his life.
"I get that," she replied, her tone gentler now. "But sometimes it feels like I'm sharing you with him. I want to be the one you focus on, not just a side note in your stories."
Mark's playful demeanor faded as he turned to her, sensing the weight of her words. "You're not just a side note, Em. You're everything to me." He reached out, taking her hand in his. "Michael is important, but so are you. You're the one here with me now."
Emily smiled, her heart warming at his sincerity. "Okay, but maybe we can talk about us a little more? I'd love to hear what you think about our future."
"Absolutely." Mark said, squeezing her hand gently.
......
Meanwhile, Loe Halloway, a sassy 17-year-old with a sharp tongue and a penchant for mischief, sat in the passenger seat of his adopted father Thomas Halloway's car. Thomas, now in his early 70s, was the epitome of patience, his weathered face breaking into a smile as he glanced at Loe.
"Old man, where are we going?" Loe asked, crossing his arms defiantly, his attitude more bratty than curious.
"Relax, it's going to be good and fun." Thomas replied, his tone light and encouraging.
Loe rolled his eyes, the typical tsundere response bubbling to the surface. "I'd rather spend my time on a vigilante act. You know, real hero work."
"Today is a holiday, you know." Thomas countered, his voice steady and calm.
"Yeah, well, heroes don't take holidays." Loe shot back, a hint of defiance in his voice.
Thomas chuckled, shaking his head. "Sure, sure. But sometimes even heroes need a break. If they're always saving people, who's going to save them?"
Loe paused, considering this for a moment. "People, I think?" He shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant, but his curiosity was piqued.
"The only one who can truly save heroes is themselves." Thomas explained, his tone more serious now. "They need strength and vitality to keep doing what they do. That means taking care of their own health—body and mind."
Loe nodded slowly, his bravado softening. "So what's your point, old man?"
"My point is," Thomas said, his eyes glinting with wisdom, "in order for you to save others, you have to be in good shape yourself. You need to rest and recharge. That's how you'll be ready for the next challenge."
Loe stared out the window for a moment, contemplating his father's words. He wanted to argue, to insist that he was fine, but deep down, he knew Thomas had a point. "I guess… I see what you mean." he muttered, a hint of reluctance in his voice.
"Good," Thomas said, smiling warmly. "Now, let's enjoy this day together. You might actually have fun."
Loe let out a small huff, but a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Yeah, okay. But if it gets boring, I'm out."
"Deal." Thomas chuckled, happy to see his son's mood lightening.
As they drove on, the sun shining bright outside, Loe felt a sense of warmth—not just from the sunlight, but from the connection with his father. It was a reminder that even heroes needed someone to lean on sometimes.
....
Meanwhile, Michael Wilson and Mary Fletcher sat together on a warm afternoon, enjoying ice cream under the sun. The vibrant colors of their treats matched Mary's striking red-violet hair, which shimmered in the light, and her enchanting red-violet eyes sparkled with a mix of joy and embarrassment.
Michael turned to her, his gaze softening as he took in her beauty. "You are beautiful." he said sincerely, his voice warm and genuine.
Mary's cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink, and she instinctively tried to hide her face behind her hands, feeling a mix of shyness and flattery.
Michael chuckled, his laughter ringing like music in the air. "Why are you hiding your face?" he teased, a playful grin spreading across his lips.
"Because I'm shy, okay?" Mary replied, peeking out from behind her fingers, her eyes bright with a mix of embarrassment and delight.
Michael leaned in slightly, a comforting presence. "You don't need to hide. I mean it—you really are stunning." he reassured her, his sincerity cutting through her bashfulness.
Mary's heart raced at his words, and she lowered her hands, a shy smile breaking through. "Thanks, I just... I still don't know how to respond to compliments." she admitted, her voice softer now.
Mary nodded, taking a bite of the ice cream, her eyes lighting up. "It's been years since we dated, and I'm still shy around you." she admitted, a shy smile creeping onto her face.
Michael feigned confidence, grinning mischievously. "It's because I'm too handsome." he teased, striking a playful pose.
Mary giggled, her cheeks flushing. "Yeah, you are too handsome. I've admired you for so long," she confessed, her voice softening.
Michael suddenly covered his mouth, feeling a rush of embarrassment. "You're bold." he said, his tone playful yet sincere.
Mary's eyes widened as she processed her own words. "N-no! I—" she stammered, her cheeks turning a deeper shade of pink as she fumbled for a response.
Michael laughed heartily, the sound infectious and bright. "Relax! I like hearing it." he reassured her, enjoying the moment and her flustered reaction.
Mary couldn't help but smile, her shyness mingling with the warmth of their connection. "Okay, maybe I'll embrace my boldness a little more." she said, playfully sticking her tongue out at him.
Michael grinned, feeling the air between them shift into something more comfortable and exciting. "I'd like that." he replied, their shared laughter creating a perfect moment of joy.
......
Chris Hilton sat across from his girlfriend, Beverly, in a cozy café. The sun filtered through the windows, casting a warm glow on her face. Chris couldn't help but admire how beautiful she looked, her hair catching the light just right.
Beverly noticed him staring and smiled softly. "What's on your mind?" she asked, her tone curious yet playful.
Chris hesitated for a moment, then grinned. "Nothing, it's just... you're beautiful."
Beverly rolled her eyes playfully. "You jest." she said with a smirk, though her blush betrayed how much the compliment flattered her.
Chris leaned forward, his voice turning softer. "Well, what can I say? I'm a fool for you."
Beverly's teasing demeanor softened, and she looked at him thoughtfully. "That's not true at all. You're far from a fool," she said, tilting her head slightly. "You always talk about your friends... what's his name, Michael, right?"
Chris cleared his throat, feeling a bit caught off guard. "Ahem, well, yeah. He's a close friend. And, you know, he's... different."
Beverly raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh, do tell. Why do you regard Michael so highly? What makes him so special that you respect him so much?"
Chris took a deep breath, his thoughts wandering to all the moments he shared with Michael. "Because of him, I overcame my fear. He helped me see things differently," he said, his voice filled with quiet admiration. "He gave me hope when I didn't think there was any left in this world."
Beverly tilted her head, her curiosity piqued. "Hope? Like Spider-Man?" she teased, comparing Michael to the famous superhero, her tone light.
Chris chuckled, shaking his head as he leaned back in his chair. "Yeah, hope like Spider-Man," he said, his smile widening. But what Beverly didn't know was that Michael was, in fact, the real Spider-Man—the friendly neighborhood hero swinging from skyscrapers while keeping the streets safe. That thought made Chris laugh quietly to himself, a private joke he wasn't ready to share.
Beverly, catching his chuckle, grinned. "You're laughing at me, aren't you?"
Chris shook his head, still smiling.
Beverly gave him a curious look, but Chris winked, leaving the mystery of his friend hanging in the air. The two of them shared a laugh, the moment sweet and light-hearted, but the unspoken truth lingered between them—a truth that Chris couldn't quite reveal just yet.
The end of Side Chapter