By the end of the day, Billy felt so tired that he almost forgot to enter the apartment complex through the back door so that no one would see him in his work clothes. He trudged up the stairs slowly, as if in a haze, his leather-gloved fingers fumbling for the keys. When he finally managed to unlock the door, he stumbled inside, flipping light switches as he moved, and placed the bouquet of lilies on the counter with as much care as he could stand to muster up. It was only then that he allowed himself to collapse onto the couch, sending pillows soaring through the air and flopping to the floor. He was all arms and legs, built like a rather strong stick bug. He barely fit on the tiny loveseat they’d picked up at a garage sale last summer. As more of an afterthought than anything else, he removed the black mask from his face and the gloves from his hands, dropping both on the hideous shag carpet rather unceremoniously, and groaned.
He was going to get it.
With a sigh, Billy sat up and massaged his temples. His gaze traveled around the cluttered apartment as he made a very short trip to the kitchen, his frown only deepening as he did. Over the last year, he and Mia had done their very best to make the cramped space homey. But money was tight and it always led to arguments between them. Mia was one of those do-gooder types who refused most of her salary because, “JUSTICE HAS NO PAYCHECK.” This was much to Billy’s annoyance. Justice was nice and everything, but just like freedom, and peace and all those other silly ideals, it didn’t keep the water running.
By contrast, Billy’s work was lucrative and risky, and it often bought him a mind-numbing lecture from Mia for his troubles. He was only making about half of what he’d made before he’d fallen for her. They’d worked in the same arena for years, and now, he routinely kept her in business. Losing so often didn’t particularly hurt his pride. Not anymore. Because really, he’d won.
No one in the city of Goldcrest knew that at the end of the day, their darling little Starlight crawled home to the infamously malicious Mr. Chaos. No one knew that he had proposed mid-battle atop a skyscraper. No one knew that they had been married for one beautiful year to the day.
But tonight, he was going to get it.
The banged-up clock on the far wall of the kitchen read 6:19 p.m. Billy checked the calendar, tracing the red heart penned around that day’s date with his finger. Their reservation was meant to be for 7:00 p.m. Changing from his work suit to a regular suit would take no time at all, but he knew that getting dolled up was an entire ordeal for Mia. It took her twenty minutes to pick out a pair of shoes. And that was banking on the meager hope that she didn’t yell at him first.
After putting a classical CD in the stereo, Billy blindly went through the motions of getting ready: he washed the grime off his face, ran his fingers through his unruly blond curls, dressed in his fresh-from-the-dry-cleaner suit and even splashed on a little cologne. The orchestral music had an oddly calming effect on the man who the city had deemed “Mr. Chaos.” He particularly enjoyed Vivaldi.
At the clicking sound of the key in the doorknob, Billy scooped up the bouquet of flowers in a panic and tried to straighten his tie with his free hand. But that only seemed to skew it more. Frantically, he leaned against the countertop, trying to look casual, and plastered a dazzling smile on his face as Mia pushed open the door.
“Happy Anniversary!”
Outside of work, Mia Hilton was about as intimidating as a marshmallow peep. She wore her raven-black hair in a tight high ponytail so that it swished as she moved. On her off days, she usually tied it with a pink ribbon. She barely reached his shoulders and refused to wear pumps. She loved nothing more than spending Friday nights snuggled under an endless pile of blankets on that teeny couch, watching old Disney princess movies and drinking hot cocoa made from a powdered mix.
Life with Mia was softer and safer than he’d ever imagined life could be. They’d met about two years ago in a drugstore, both nursing wounds inflicted by the other during a particularly horrible battle the night before. They had gotten into such a heated fight over the last pack of bandages on the shelf that the manager had thrown them out. He’d been fuming at such humiliation, already scouring his mind for methods of revenge. But with a laugh, she’d offered him a hand up off the sidewalk and a coffee at the shop next door. Too stunned to argue, he’d agreed.
“I’m Mia,” she’d said then, her smile like a perfect summer night as she straightened her gold-wire glasses.
“Billy.”
He had been the first to make the connection between the heroine and the girlfriend. A fire he’d caused on the east side of town had left the gloveless Starlight with terrible burns all over her hands. Mia had done the best to hide her affliction at lunch the following day, but even picking up a fork appeared to cause her pain. The realization came to him with startling clarity, and while Mr. Chaos continued to cause mischief for Starlight, the newspapers noted that he never set fire to a building again, and Mia found a pair of heat-resistant gloves on her doorstep the next morning. Eventually, she too made the discovery, and together, they decided that they didn’t care.
With both of their identities known to each other, work became a little like a game. He lived for her hidden smirks, her stolen kisses, her secret winks. Being married only added to the fun. He’d cause enough trouble to get her attention, she’d save the day in typical heroic fashion, and he would narrowly slip out of her grasp, every single time, leaving her to smile for the cameras, while he slinked away to wait for her in their crummy apartment that had somehow become home.
Mr. Chaos wasn’t afraid of Starlight. That much was obvious to those who watched the news. But Billy Hilton… Billy Hilton might have been a little afraid of Mia.
Standing there in the kitchen, precariously leaned against the faux-marble counter, lilies still in hand, the most feared villain in all of Goldcrest braced himself for whatever horror his wife was about to unleash upon him.
She yanked the white cloak off of her shoulders, balled it up, and threw it at his head. A moment later, the slam of their bedroom door indicated that he was alone again. He sighed, thinking that he probably should have been grateful, but definitely wasn’t.
After Billy had unburied himself from her cloak, he noticed a few blood stains across the quilted pattern. His stomach churned uneasily, but he brought it over to the bathroom sink, treated the red spots with cold water and stain remover, and left it there to soak. It was only then that he tiptoed over to the bedroom door and knocked softly. “Sweetheart?”
The door opened, but only long and wide enough for her to toss the suit out. Then it slammed shut again. “Set that to soak, will you?” Her voice was even – deadly. He swallowed. “I’ll do the laundry later.”
Billy stooped to pick up her white suit, becoming increasingly distressed as he found more blood stains dotting the sleeves. “Mia?” he asked, trying to keep his voice calm as his heart thudded in his chest. “Are you… are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I’ll be out in a minute. Just let me fix my hair in peace, William.”
William. He really was in trouble now. No one called him William. He’d killed the last person who tried. And yet, he felt more afraid for himself.
“Mia, listen,” he said desperately, leaning his forehead on the door as he spoke. “If you’re hurt-”
“I’m fine.”
“I didn’t mean to —”
The door swung open with astounding force, smacking Billy square in the nose and sending him sprawling backwards onto the floor. He yelped, immediately clutching his nose as blood spurted through his fingertips.
“What was that for?”
Mia had initially gasped at the sound of impact, but the surprise hardened on her face. “Oh, so a little blood bothers you now?”
From his place on the floor, Billy could see that Mia was wearing a very pretty purple dress, with long fluttery sleeves. She’d done her hair up in its usual ponytail and swapped her dreaded contact lenses for her favorite pair of gold-wired glasses.
To look at Mia was to feel safe. The people of Goldcrest knew it, and for a moment, he did, too. This was Mia, after all: Mia who had slipped money in his pocket when he’d bought the coffees for their first date, Mia who always stopped to feed the pigeons in the park, Mia who volunteered at the soup kitchen every Thanksgiving, Mia who too often protected everyone but herself.
“I thought you were going to wear the pink dress. You set it out last night,” he waved his tie around a bit as he pushed himself back up again. “I wore this one to match.”
“The pink dress won’t cover my bandages,” she snapped, although her dark eyes softened slightly as he held up the tie with his clean hand. It looked as if she was fighting a smile.
“Don’t get me wrong, you look beautiful!” said Billy, trying to avoid letting blood drip into his mouth as he spoke. He tilted his head back. “You always do. I just… I noticed, that’s all.”
“Don’t do that. Let me get you some ice.”
Mia hurried over to the kitchen and made a cold compress with a rag. Both of them were incredibly skilled at quick first-aid, unfortunately used to patching each other up after fights with other adversaries. When she returned, she refused to meet his eyes, not even when she pressed the damp rag to his nose.
“Does that feel any better?”
“A little,” he admitted. “Did you know I was there?”
“I didn’t know you had your face squished against the door, if that’s what you’re asking. I was kind of going for your knee or something. Nothing major. Just a bruise. Make you feel it in the morning,” she glanced over her shoulder at the kitchen clock. “We’re going to be late for dinner.”
“Never mind that,” he cradled her face in his hands. “Tell me the truth. Are you okay?”
“Am I okay?” The lights in the room flared. “Billy, it’s our anniversary, and you dropped a building on me!”
“I didn’t drop a building on you!” Billy said defensively, cringing. He refused to close his eyes, lest he see it all over again. Watching that skyscraper crumble had been a horrific experience. “It just collapsed at a really inopportune moment. I hit it too hard with a blast, which happens sometimes. And I went looking for you, but I couldn’t find you anywhere. I was screaming your name — didn’t you hear me?”
Something flickered in her eyes. Guilt. “Yes,” she muttered. “But I got myself out just fine. Just a few scratches and nicks. I might have to stitch up the suit, too.”
“You… you got yourself out?” he asked, his voice faltering. “And you didn’t bother to say anything? How could you do that to me?” Billy pulled away from her, grabbing at his curly hair as anger began to simmer in his heart.
Mia didn’t look at him, instead staring intently at the bloody rag. “What, are you afraid you soured your bad reputation by showing some humanity?” she muttered.
“Mia, I screamed for you for an hour. An hour. Why didn’t you say something? I didn’t know if you were okay. I didn’t know where you were. I was scared that I… that I hurt you.”
He was sure that his eyes were wild by now. He was called Mr. Chaos for a reason.
There was a mania within, the kind that had caused him to wreak such horrific havoc in the past. These days, he mainly caused small disturbances to give Mia something to do. But now…
An empty coffee mug on the table began to clatter on its coaster, seemingly of its own accord. Mia shot him a warning glance, but there was a worried crease between her brows.
“Billy…”
The mug shattered. Mia strode up to him and grabbed his wrists, her eyes wide. More than anyone else, she knew how ruinous his powers could be. Starlight was perhaps more courageous than Mr. Chaos, but his rage was infinitely more dangerous. What was the sun against pure destruction?
“Billy, you need to calm down,” she was so close that their noses were brushing; he found himself getting lost in the dark caverns of her eyes. “Let’s just talk. Breathe.”
A vase was the next to go, exploding on the coffee table in a mess of glass shards, spilled water and week-old tulips.
“Billy.”
Her voice was becoming dimmer, more of a hindrance than anything else. He knew that listening to her was the right thing to do, but the power was thrumming in his veins, power laced with the fear and anger of the day. He liked the feeling a little too much to let it go. It felt better than forgiveness. She deserved this. All afternoon, he’d been worried about how he’d smooth things over with her, when in reality, it was she that owed him an apology.
“If it hadn’t been for the news,” he whispered, his breath ragged as power thudded in his chest, “I wouldn’t have even known if you were alive. Mia, I thought you were dead.”
The lilies he’d bought for her tore themselves apart on the countertop.
“Billy, stop it! I’m sorry, okay?” she cried out. “I was angry, and I wanted to punish you, so I didn’t say anything, but that was wrong of me. I’m sorry. Just take a breath. You’re going to do something you’ll regret.”
They were both shaking — Billy with fury and Mia with fright. He could feel his power buzzing in the air, hot and crackling, like lightning on a dry summer night. It was absolutely, positively, unquestionably intoxicating, and he could feel himself growing hungry for more.
And then Mia cheated, because she allowed herself to float a few inches off the carpeted floor, grabbed his face, and kissed him.
Billy stiffened for a moment, surprised that she’d jumped to such a forward and underhanded tactic. It was much more his style of fighting. Mia tended to stay on the defensive; that was just her nature.
After the initial shock of her attack, Billy found himself leaning in as she slowly floated back to the ground, all the while maintaining that soft kiss. Just like that, his powers faded into nothingness. The room was silent again, as was his mind. She’d won. He laughed, pressing another kiss to her forehead before pulling away.
“Sorry,” he muttered, still grinning as he rubbed the back of his neck.
“Yeah,” she murmured back. The tips of her ears had turned pink with bashfulness at her actions. “Me too.”
“I didn’t mean to break everything.”
“I didn’t mean to worry you,” she replied. “I think we’re going to be late for —”
DING! DING! DING! DING! DING! DING! DING!
The clang of the kitchen clock startled them both, particularly Mia, who let out a little squeak and caused the lights to flicker again. Over their time together, Billy had been surprised to learn how jumpy she truly was. They both suffered from it. He laughed nervously, and after a moment, she joined in.
Billy touched his nose gingerly, but even the slightest contact caused him to wince, “I think you broke my nose.”
“You broke my vase. And my mug. And my flowers,” Mia offered him the towel again with a shy smile. “What do you say we take you to the ER, pick up sandwiches or something on the way back, and just watch a movie tonight?”
“I’d say I love you even more,” Billy walked over to the counter, scooped up the sorry remains of her bouquet with his hands, and proceeded to dump them on her head. “Happy anniversary, Starlight.”
“Happy anniversary,” said Mia with a little laugh. She attempted to brush the flower shreds out of her silky black ponytail, failing miserably. “But don’t call me that. Not tonight. Tonight, I just want to be Billy Hilton’s wife.”
Billy had been shrugging on a leather jacket, but he stopped halfway, “Really?”
“Yes,” she nodded. “Being Starlight is nice, but I like being Mia Hilton more.”
He stared at her for a moment, trying to snatch the right thing to stay from somewhere within the swarm of butterflies that had been plaguing him since the day they’d met in that drugstore. But he only managed, “I love you, Mia Hilton.”
She pulled a pink fuzzy sweater over her head, then winked, “I know.”
Katherine Joyce is a second-year English major with a minor in History. She is incredibly excited to be transferring to University Park in the fall for her last two years of college! On the rare occasion that she isn’t working on her young adult high-adventure novel, she enjoys reading the works of J.R.R. Tolkien, spending time with family, listening to film scores, and having movie marathons with friends.