Chapter 1: Winds of Change
Rohan stepped into his room as quietly as possible, easing the door shut behind him. The last thing he wanted was for his mom to hear him come in. The apartment was tense, as always, with the faint sounds of traffic from the Gotham streets outside and the muffled thud of a cabinet door slamming in the kitchen.
He dropped his backpack on the floor and took a deep breath, letting his eyes drift over the posters plastered across his walls. His favorite superheroes and characters stared back at him, each one a reminder of the worlds he'd rather be living in. These weren't just decorations; they were his escape, his connection to something bigger and better than the cramped, dim room he called home.
Just as he sat down at his desk, he heard his mother's voice cutting through the thin walls. "Rohan!" Her tone was sharp, tired, like she'd been waiting all day for someone to take out her frustration on. "Get out here. Now."
Rohan sighed, pushing himself up from the chair. Here we go again. He made his way to the kitchen, where his mom was hunched over the counter, staring down at a pile of overdue bills.
"You gonna stand there, or are you gonna say something?" she snapped, not even looking up.
"What do you want me to say?" Rohan muttered under his breath. He kept his voice low, hoping she wouldn't catch it, but her head snapped up, her eyes narrowing.
"Oh, I don't know. Maybe you could start by explaining why you're never here when I need you! I'm doing everything in this place, and you just… you just disappear."
Rohan clenched his fists, keeping them at his sides. "I go to school, Mom. Where else am I supposed to be?"
"Don't talk back to me." She moved closer, pointing a finger in his face. "You think you're so smart, don't you? Just because you read all those stupid comics and watch those shows? They're garbage, Rohan. None of that's going to help you survive out here."
Rohan took a slow breath, willing himself not to react. "I'm doing the best I can. I get my homework done, I keep my grades up—"
"Grades," she scoffed, rolling her eyes. "As if grades mean anything in this city. You better wake up, Rohan. All that 'hero' stuff isn't real. You're not gonna be saved by Superman. No one's coming for us."
Her words stung, and he could feel his face heating up, but he managed to keep his voice steady. "I know no one's coming. But that doesn't mean I can't still—" He stopped himself, realizing he was on the verge of saying something he couldn't take back. Something about how he dreamed of getting out, of doing something with his life, even if she didn't believe in him.
His mom shook her head, exasperated. "You and your father, both of you, living in your own worlds. No wonder we're stuck here." She shoved the bills aside and slumped into a chair, rubbing her temples.
Rohan's heart sank. He wanted to say something, anything to bridge the gap between them, but he knew it wouldn't make a difference. Instead, he grabbed a glass of water from the sink, trying to shake off the conversation. As he turned to leave, his mother's voice stopped him.
"Don't think you're special, Rohan," she said quietly. "Life doesn't care about your dreams. Sooner or later, you're gonna have to grow up and face the real world."
Without another word, Rohan walked back to his room, shutting the door behind him a little harder than he meant to. He leaned his head against it, closing his eyes and taking a shaky breath. Her words echoed in his mind, sinking in deeper than he wanted to admit.
He moved to his desk, opening a comic book at random. His eyes skimmed over the colorful panels, but his mind was elsewhere. The heroes in the pages seemed so far away, like they belonged to a world he'd never be part of. But a small, stubborn part of him refused to let go of the idea. He wasn't ready to give up on the dreams that kept him going.
"Maybe she's right," he muttered to himself, letting his fingers trail over the page. "But… maybe she's not."