Ren slumps into the worn-out chair in the corner of the diner, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. His breath comes in deep, his muscles aching from the effort of moving the heavy boxes that Eva had so kindly assigned to him. He can feel the strain in his arms, but it's nothing compared to the strain inside his head.
He slams his hand on the table, using pain as a medium to get away from the thoughts of Eva. Sigh, she keeps working me up when I should be focusing on getting stronger. His mind swirls around the thoughts of his power, thoughts of control. He knows he's getting stronger, but he still feels like his grip on it is fragile, unsteady, like trying to hold water in his hands.
"I need to get better. More precise," he thinks, running a finger over the edge of the table, staring blankly at the faint scratches in the wood. "If I could just find the right way to use it, I could… be better."
The familiar thrill of potential crawls up his spine. He closes his eyes, focusing inward, trying to feel that spark of power just beneath his skin. He knows it's there, waiting for him, but it's like trying to grasp smoke. The harder he tries to grasp it, the more it slips away.
The faint shuffle of footsteps pulls him from his thoughts. He opens his eyes to see Nathan, the new guy, striding toward him with a glass of water in hand and a smile plastered across his face. Ren's eyes narrow slightly. There's something about that smile—it's too wide, too pleasant like it's painted on.
"Hey, tough work, huh?" Nathan's voice is casual and friendly. He hands Ren the glass, leaning in just slightly. "Here, have some water."
Ren takes it, watching Nathan carefully as he downs the drink. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Eva glancing over, her face softening as she watches Nathan. She's impressed, charmed even, by his gesture. Of course, Ren thinks bitterly. She's always been quick to judge, falling for the surface.
Nathan lowers his voice, leaning closer so only Ren can hear. His smile never falters, but the tone of his words shifts into something sharp, cutting. "Look, man," he says, "I saw you eyeing Eva earlier. Let me give you a piece of advice."
Ren stiffens slightly but doesn't respond, only stares at Nathan as Nathan continues.
"Find someone in your league, alright? She's way out of yours." Nathan's smile widens, but the malice behind it is unmistakable. "She's too beautiful for someone like you. A pig shouldn't go after a rose, get it? Forget about her and find someone else. Someone on your level."
Ren feels that little rage bubbling up inside him, his grip tightening around the glass. A pig. You think I'm a pig. His fingers twitch with the urge to make something happen, to lash out, to do something. But he keeps his expression neutral, forcing the fury down, deep where it simmers like coals waiting to ignite.
Nathan stands up straight, still smiling. "Just trying to help you out, man," he says, patting Ren on the shoulder like a friend giving advice. "Take it easy."
"That's good advice," Ren whispers back with a smile, looking at Nathan's eyes. "If you know that, you better stay away from her then."
Ren's smile widens and darkens. "You have no idea who is after her. And now..." He stops, letting the words sink in, "You are on his list."
Nathan looks at him and just walks away, telling Ren, "You are creepy, dude, you know that."
Ren watches him walk away, the anger inside him calming down. He can feel it spreading through his veins, pumping with each heartbeat, making his hands tremble slightly. He sets the glass down, looking at Nathan.
"Hah, fucker. Don't even know who he is talking to. You think you can take what's mine?"
He imagines Nathan's smug face, the way he so casually called Ren, a pig, and the way he spoke about Eva. Eva. My toy. You want her? You're straightforward asking for trouble, man. You're asking for more than you can handle.
But as much as telekinesis pulses through him, Ren stops himself. Tripping Nathan up, making him stumble or spill something on himself—it's all too small, too petty. Nathan would laugh it off, maybe even look for another opportunity to insult him. No, that's not enough. Not nearly enough.
"I need something bigger," Ren thinks, his mind turning. "Something that will hurt him, something that will stay with him. But he can't know it's me." His heart pounds with the thought of it, the thrill of plotting something that would destroy Nathan's smug confidence without revealing Ren's hand in it.
He leans back, eyes narrowed, dark thoughts swirling. I'll teach him. I'll show him what happens when you mess with me.
But how?
Time ticks by as Ren continues to wonder what to do with him. Later that afternoon, Ren is out on a delivery, but his mind is still tangled with thoughts of revenge. He rides down the street, barely registering his surroundings as his thoughts churn. It has to be big, something so severe that Nathan will never recover. But what?
He approaches the house he's delivering to. Just as he is about to ring the bell, He notices a group of children playing in the garden. They're wearing makeshift costumes—one of them has a mask on, pretending to be a villain. The others shout and play along, running back and forth behind the villain kid.
One of the kids, pretending to be the hero, yells, "You villain! Let them go!"
The kid in the villain mask laughs, pointing a finger dramatically. "I'll defeat you today, hero!"
The hero kid puffs out his chest. "Ha ha ha! Villains never win! I'll save everyone!"
They charge at each other, but in their excitement, they collide, knocking their heads with each other. Both of them fall with a thud, the game forgotten as they sit on the ground, holding their foreheads.
Ren watches, a slow smile spreading across his face. He doesn't see the kids playing, what he sees are ideas playing around.
What seems to be kids playing has somehow given birth to a villain.
A mask, he thinks, the idea taking root in his mind. That's it. A mask that can hide me and my identity and give rise to someone new. I could be someone else. I don't have to be Ren.
His heart pounds in his chest as the idea blooms, becoming more defined. I could create a new identity. I could use my powers without fear, without holding back. No one would know who it is. What it is?
The thought electrifies him. He imagines the possibilities, the freedom of being able to use his power without the fear of being caught. If I wear a mask, if I change my voice if I become someone else… I could do whatever I wanted. I could make Nathan suffer, and he'll never know who it is.
His hands clench into fists at his sides as the excitement builds. I can create a new persona. A character. A villain, like the kid in the mask. And the villain will win, because there's no hero.
His mind spins with ideas. He could change his clothes, his mannerisms, everything about himself. He could slip into the shadows, unseen, unknown. He could strike without warning, and Nathan would never know who was pulling the strings.
Ren hands over the order, finishing his delivery, but instead of heading back immediately, he lingers, watching the kids as they resume their game. His thoughts race ahead of him, already planning, already plotting. I won't act in public. Not yet. But soon. I just need to create the right character. The right mask.
As he walks back toward the restaurant, his smile widens into something dark, something twisted. His excitement is palpable now, coursing through him like electricity. This is going to be fun, he thinks. Oh, Nathan… you have no idea what's coming for you.
The sun sets behind him, casting long shadows across the street as he walks, his mind consumed with plans for his persona, the first of many.
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Hello everyone, comment what might happen in the story, or suggest something that's necessary. I'll consider your ideas and add them to make it better fit you.