[Peter's POV]
"Uah-hah."
I let out a yawn that echoed through the room.
I glance over at the bedside clock. It's six in the morning, and I am interrupted by the sound of a notification.
It's interesting to see who's messaging this early.
"Morning, Pete! You're probably still asleep or wondering, 'Who's messaging this early?' :) Anyway, I need to discuss something with you. Text me when you wake up."
It's Harry Osborn.
As soon as summer hit, our little friend circle temporarily broke up.
Miles went on a family trip for the whole summer. George came up with something similar to strengthen his relationship with Gwen.
"Morning, Gar. I just woke up and was thinking about what to do. So, what's this about?"
"Let's do this: get ready and come to my tower. Don't worry about breakfast; I'll treat you."
What's got him so urgent?
"Got it. On my way, see you soon."
I send the message, get dressed, and start searching for my backpack. I put my suit at the bottom and toss in my web-shooters. Then, I pile on some books and random junk to throw off any prying eyes.
I don't wear the suit underneath my civilian clothes because the first layer constantly rides up and reveals the costume.
So, even in a pinch, I can quickly change into my Spider-Man suit when it's tucked away in the backpack. This method hasn't caused any major issues so far, and I have stuck to the routine.
I went to the bathroom, trying not to wake anyone up, get myself ready, and head downstairs.
I left a note about my absence and stepped out of the house.
On my way to the Osborne Tower, I might as well listen to some music.
...
It's enough to say that Harry Osborn is waiting for me, and I easily get my pass.
The elevator rose from the first floor to the very top.
I stepped out and found myself in an incredibly spacious living room.
"Hey, Pete!"
Harry waved at me from the kitchen.
"Hey, Harry,"
I give my friend a high five and pat him on the shoulder, "Have I mentioned that this room is like three of mine?"
"Every time you come over. Don't sell yourself short, Pete. Your home is at least relaxing, and you have your family nearby, while me…"
He looked grim, "Well, let's not dwell on the sad stuff. There's something I wanted to talk to you about."
He began, motioning for me to follow him into the kitchen.
"I'm all ears."
I sit down at the table.
"Maybe you've heard there's an opening for next-generation pediatric medical clinics soon, under OsCorp and with financial influence from Wilson Fisk."
"Yeah, I've heard,"
What's this about?
Harry handed me a bowl of cereal, taking a second plate for himself.
"Anyway, I'll need you at the opening. There's the official part, then a banquet and all that. I could use a friend's help. You'll get an invite and full access. What do you say?"
"I'd love to, but I'm being sent by the Bugle to the same event. I'm afraid the people your father wants you to fit in with won't look too kindly on a journalist with that kind of access under your name."
"You haven't mentioned that."
"It wasn't the right time."
I shrugged.
Harry paused to think.
"But you're just a photographer, right?"
"Basically, yeah."
"Then I'm sure there won't be any problems."
Harry said, leaning back casually in his chair.
"So, my friend shows up with a camera and takes pictures of various objects and people. What's the big deal? You're not one of those annoying paparazzi from the tabloids, are you?"
"Right, my friend, I may be a photographer, but I'm a very tactful photographer."
I said, placing my fist over my chest in mock seriousness.
We both laugh together.
"Anyway, the opening is still a few months away, plenty of time to get everything done perfectly. Trust me, Pete, it's going to be awesome."
"Yeah, a bunch of snobby snobs who'll look at me like I'm from a third-world country just because I won't be wearing a two-thousand-dollar tux is a dream come true."
I said sarcastically.
"It's not that exaggerated."
"I know, Harry, sorry, but that's your world, not mine."
"Still not a reason not to go. Trust me, I've seen 'high society' types who, compared to you, look like they came from a completely different evolutionary branch."
"Like, not Homo sapiens, but Homo idioticus?"
"Exactly. However, there are also some really interesting specimens, more or less our age, like the daughter of my mom's acquaintance from Europe. They both do charity work and thanks to my mom, Lydia Hardy's company is expanding into America. And her daughter, Felicia, will come over to 'set up a foothold.'"
That's interesting news.
"That sounds like it's going to be quite interesting, Harry,"
I smirk mysteriously, but he doesn't seem to care much about it.
Suddenly, the elevator doors ring open.
I glanced at Harry questioningly, but he just shrugged.
In the doorway stood someone I've seen on posters, TV broadcasts, and in newspapers but never in person.
"Harry, I need to return to the lab in ten minutes. I came to get the formula from the office. And who is this young man?"
Norman gave me a thoughtful look.
I try to keep a calm demeanor, but inside, everything tightens. I involuntarily focus all my senses.
"Dad, this is my friend Peter. We spent a lot of time together when we were kids, maybe you remember?"
Harry said.
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Osborn,"
I calmly extend my hand for a greeting.
Norman seemed to be thinking about something for a moment, but then he confidently shook my hand.
"Of course! Peter Parker, Richard's son. I remember now. Your father was a great scientist, my condolences."
"Thank you, Mr. Osborn."
I don't know why, but his friendliness didn't relax me one bit.
"Please. Just Norman will do."
"Sorry, I got used to that, Mr. Osborn."
"Aha, I understand. You were raised by Richard's brother, Ben, right?"
"That's right."
"I see they raised you to be a polite young man. Excuse me, guys, but I must go now. See you tonight, son. Peter."
Norman said in a much colder tone.
"Wow, you really have a talent for making people like you, Pete. First Flash, then my dad. Who's next, the president?"
"Nothing complicated, just politeness."
"Just? In my memory, my dad has only spoken so kindly to three people. One of them is my mother."
"Maybe you're right, I might really have a talent."
I muttered with a smirk.
"So, what were you saying about the opening?"
To be continued...