I was halfway to the abandoned subway station when my phone started ringing.
I pulled it out of my pocket. The caller ID said Sarah (Assistant).
I stopped walking. Why was she calling me now?
I answered the phone. "What do you want, Sarah?"
"Shay," Sarah said. "I am calling on behalf of your parents. You need to come to Le Petit Bijou immediately."
Le Petit Bijou was an ultra-exclusive, ridiculously expensive restaurant downtown. My parents ate there all the time to show off to their rich friends.
"I'm busy," I said, looking down the street toward the Zone. "I have a job now. I have to go clear a subway station."
Sarah sighed. "Shay, this is not a request. Your parents received a notification from the HRC that you obtained a Pro Hero License. Because you are nineteen and officially licensed, they need you to sign emancipation papers."
"Emancipation papers?" I asked.
"Yes. Legal documents stating that you are completely financially independent. It separates your legal liability from the Fawn family brand. If you mess up and destroy a city block, your parents don't want Aegis Defense or the city suing them for the damages."
I rolled my eyes. Of course. They didn't want to see me; they just wanted to protect their money.
"Tell them to mail the papers," I said. "I'll sign them later."
"They are leaving for a three-week PR tour in Europe tomorrow morning," Sarah said. "The lawyers need this signed tonight. If you don't come, your parents will use their influence to have your Hero License suspended until you comply."
I gripped my phone tightly. They would absolutely do that. They had enough power to ruin my new job before it even started.
"Fine," I snapped. "I'll be there in twenty minutes."
I hung up the phone. I looked at the address for the Zone, then turned around and headed for the nearest subway line to go downtown. Miller was going to be mad if I was late clearing the Zone, but I had until midnight. I just needed to sign the stupid papers and leave.
Twenty minutes later, I walked up to Le Petit Bijou.
The restaurant was ridiculous. There were valet drivers in tuxedos parking sports cars. The front doors were made of oak and gold.
I walked inside wearing my polo shirt, tactical pants, and black baton on my belt.
The host at the front desk looked at me like I was a piece of trash that had blown in from the street.
"Sir, we have a strict dress code," the host said, stepping in front of me.
"I'm looking for the Fawn table," I said.
The host looked down at his reservation list, then backed up from me. He clearly didn't believe I belonged to the famous Fawn family. "Right this way, sir," he said stiffly.
He led me through the crowded dining room. The room was full of rich people eating expensive food. Everyone was wearing suits and dresses. I could feel people staring at my cheap clothes.
At the back of the restaurant, in a private booth, sat my family.
My father, Derek, was wearing a dark red suit. He had a strong jaw and perfect hair.
My mother, Jasmine, was wearing an elegant blue dress. Her makeup was flawless.
Sitting next to them was my younger sister, Chloe. She was wearing her pristine white Metropolitan Academy uniform.
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I slid into the empty seat across from them.
"You couldn't dress up?" my father asked.
"I was on my way to work," I said.
"Work," my mother scoffed while taking a sip of her wine. "Aegis Defense. A mid-tier, borderline corrupt agency that handles pest control. You have an S-Tier Blessing, Shay. You could have been a top ten Hero. Instead, you are wearing a cheap polo shirt and carrying a stick."
"I like the polo," I lied. "It's breathable."
Chloe laughed. "You look like a mall cop, Shay. I heard you failed the written exam and Aegis had to bribe the HRC to pass you."
"Where are the papers?" I asked, looking at my father. "Let's just get this over with."
My father snapped his fingers. A lawyer in a gray suit stepped out of the shadows behind the booth and placed a stack of papers on the table, along with a fancy gold pen.
"Sign the bottom of every page," my father said. "Once this is done, you are legally no longer our responsibility. If you die in a Public Zone, we don't have to pay for the funeral."
I picked up the pen and started signing.
I signed page after page. The restaurant was quiet except for the soft clinking of silverware.
My parents were busy looking at their phones, probably checking their social media engagement or stock prices.
Chloe, however, was watching me closely. She had a mean little smile on her face.
"So, Shay," Chloe said, resting her chin on her hands. "Since you are a big Pro Hero now, what Level are you? Two? Three?"
"I'm Level 1," I said.
Chloe gasped dramatically. "Level 1? Still? That is so embarrassing. Even the kids with weak E-Tier Blessings at my school are at least Level 10 by now."
"I don't care," I muttered.
"You should care," Chloe said. "Public Zones are dangerous. You don't have anyone to protect you anymore. You are going to get hurt. And when you do, it’s going to look really bad for our family brand."
I stopped signing and looked up at her. "I thought the whole point of these papers was to separate me from your brand."
"Legally, yes," my mother chimed in. "But the media will still connect you to us. Try not to die in a humiliating way, Shay. It would ruin our PR tour."
I gripped the gold pen tightly. For my family I was just a PR problem they were trying to sweep under the rug.
"You know what I think is going to happen?" Chloe asked, her eyes gleaming.
Suddenly, the air around me shimmered. Chloe was using her S-Tier Blessing, Illusionist.
The fancy restaurant disappeared and the smell of expensive food vanished, replaced by the stench of garbage and urine.
I was suddenly sitting on a dirty sidewalk. It was raining as I looked down at my hands. They were covered in dirt and I was wearing rags.
A projection of myself—older, thinner, and miserable—was kneeling on the ground in front of me, holding out a rusty tin cup. People in nice suits were walking past, ignoring me.
“Please,” the fake version of me begged. “I just need a few dollars. I failed as a Hero. I have nothing.”
The illusion was so real. I could feel the cold rain and smell the garbage.
Then, I heard laughter. It was my father and mother. They were laughing at the illusion.
"Very creative, Chloe," my father chuckled. "Your control over sensory details has improved."
"Thank you, Father," Chloe said.
I sat there in the fake rain, listening to my family laugh at the idea of me starving on the street.
I felt a burning anger in my chest.
I am lazy and hate working hard. I have always just wanted to be comfortable and left alone. But right then, looking at the pathetic version of myself begging for change, something inside me snapped.
I wanted to spite them.
I wanted to climb to the top of this stupid system and get a higher Level than Chloe. I wanted to get a higher Rank than my parents. I wanted to become so rich and powerful that they would have to look up to me and then I wanted to ignore them completely.
I focused my mind and tapped into my BP pool.
I used Master of the Elements to rapidly drop the temperature in the air directly around Chloe’s face.
Cost: 1 BP.
The moisture in the air instantly froze. A thin layer of frost formed right on Chloe’s nose and eyelashes. She gasped, the sudden freezing cold shocking her system.
She lost her focus and the illusion shattered like glass.
I was back in the restaurant looking at Chloe rubbing her face, glaring at me angrily.
"Don't use your Blessing on me," I said.
I looked down at the last page of the emancipation papers and signed my name in messy letters. I threw the gold pen onto the table.
"I'm done," I said, standing up.
My father looked at the signed papers, satisfied. "Goodbye, Shay. Don't call us."
"I won't," I said.
I turned around and walked out of the restaurant.
I looked at the piece of paper in my pocket with the address for the Public Zone.
I was angry and fully awake.
For the first time in my nineteen years of life, I actually wanted to go fight something.