The autumn rain pattered against the window of a small flat in the centre of Grossaint's university district. Troisine's capital was a sprawling modern city which utilised a mix of architectural designs from glass high-rises, industrial brick apartment blocks, to quaint colonial homes.
The city was a little too cold for George's liking, but its multicultural population made the place a tapestry of colourful personalities.
At the age of nineteen, it was the reason why he had fled the coup that was his old city of Gascoigne. He had grown bored of knowing everyone, bored of the drab culture. It was probably the same thing you'd hear from every other university student who came here.
In the cheap flat he now called home, there was a warmth in the dull, grey atmosphere the room emitted. For in this flat were two other souls who made it feel like a home.
Krista Hopkins, the energetic, happy-go-lucky twenty-year-old sports management student, occupied the centre room beside his. She was currently out doing one of her jogs, even in the rain. Her stalwart discipline truly was something to admire.
The one who occupied the room closest to the kitchen was Arjun Sharma, the perpetually studying engineering student who mostly kept to his room. He was a decent guy, surprisingly loud and confident for someone who, for the most part, was a shut-in. But that was just during the day.
After eleven at night, however… that was a different story.
And here George found himself, seated beside an old rickety wooden kitchen table which was surrounded by three other seats beside his. Behind him was the kitchen, which was mostly utilised by Krista. Although his and Arjun's cooking ability was not one to be scoffed at — but that was a story for another time.
In front of him was the living room area, which had two sofas sitting perpendicular to each other, facing a small TV. Looking past the living room was the large window overlooking the city skyline.
The kitchen, dining hall and living room were all merged into one big room.
He assumed it was to save space and money.
Placed in the dining chair facing the window, George was dabbling in what little escapism he could muster — his main hobby, drawing.
The sheet in front of him was a sea of charcoal, skilfully crafted into the shape of the skyline before him, jagged lines catching the rain-smeared lights outside.
In his ears hummed the sound of music from the headphones he wore. Through them played the melancholic ringing guitars of indie music, drowning out the world around him.
Yet even through that, the sound of the door bursting open tore him away from the music.
He glanced toward the door window and saw a figure approaching down the hallway.
A moment later, the door opened.
Krista stepped inside.
She stood at around five foot nine, her long blonde hair tipped with blue cascading in damp waves. Freckles dusted her nose and cheeks just above the beauty mark on her right jaw, flowing down her neck and peeking under her coat collar. A subtle map of her skin that always caught George's eye, though he never dared mention it.
She was dressed in running gear, cheeks flushed. She had clearly just come back from a run despite the miserable weather outside.
From her blue eyes alone, George could see the warm smile she greeted him with.
"George, what are you doing here? I would've thought you'd be at the pub or something."
She pointed toward the window to emphasise the joke. The rain outside was pouring relentlessly.
She kicked off her white sneakers, revealing bright coloured socks with cartoonish designs plastered on them.
How quirky, he thought.
"And just what are you doing going on a jog in this downpour?" George asked.
He smiled back with his eyes closed, shaking his head in playful disappointment at her cheap joke — though he was partially serious.
Come on now. Take a day off.
"Well, you can't lay off, come rain or shine. I mean… it wasn't raining when I left but I couldn't stop. My dad always instilled discipline into me when it came to stuff like this."
She often spoke about her dad.
It seemed like they had a deep connection.
George realised he rarely heard anything about her mum though.
So, he asked.
"Hey Krista, we've not had the chance to properly get to know each other yet have we? Come on, let's chat."
She gave him a slightly confused look but still maintained her cheerful expression. Walking over to the kettle, she filled it with water and switched it on, rubbing one foot against the other as she waited.
"Sure. I'm making some tea first though, you want some?"
George had never been particularly fond of tea.
But watching the rain trickle down the window gave him a strong urge for a hot drink.
There was a cosy warmth to the soft yellow kitchen light, contrasting with the cloudy grey sky outside.
"Yeah sure, thanks. I'm just gonna go put my stuff in my room. I'll be right back."
"You know you're gonna have to show me your art sometime, right?"
She didn't even look up from the mug as she poured the hot water over the teabags resting at the bottom.
Still, the interest she showed in his art warmed him.
George rarely showed others his drawings. It was a hobby he preferred enjoying quietly on his own.
He gathered his paper and tools, bringing them back to his room and placing them neatly into a drawer.
Looking up, he saw the pin board on the wall.
Several of his drawings were pinned there. All recent pieces.
The alien attack on Grossaint had happened a couple weeks ago, and suddenly he had plenty of free time.
Then again, that was mostly his own fault.
For months after gaining his powers he had spent much of his time flying around the world.
At night he would sneak out and fly to the snowy Himalayas.
During the day he would tell his parents he was meeting friends while instead floating above the clouds, basking in sunlight.
Those were the best days—rainy ones where he could enjoy the sun while storms raged far below.
George wandered into the bathroom and stared at his reflection in the mirror.
Running a hand through his hair, he studied his own eyes.
During the last invasion he had discovered something new.
He could go into space.
The thought filled him with excitement.
What new horizons could he discover?
Would he be the first human to land on Mars?
Could he meet other civilisations?
What if there was another human-like species somewhere out there?
What if there were others like him… with the same power?
Time, however, continued moving forward.
George snapped back to reality.
A slightly manic smile crept across his face before fading.
His tea was probably getting cold.
He stepped back through the kitchen door into the warm rustic glow of the kitchen.
Krista sat at the rickety table where he had been earlier.
Opposite his seat, she leaned her head against her hand, elbow resting on the table while she traced her fingers around the rim of her mug.
She had changed into dry, comfortable pyjamas.
In the warm kitchen light, she looked… kind of cute.
A neatly placed mug sat in front of his chair.
It was his mug.
Printed across it was a collage of photos of him and his family.
She had even remembered which one was his.
When George stepped inside, Krista looked up and smiled warmly.
"Took you long enough. Come on, take a seat, your drink's getting cold."
George pulled the chair back and sat down. It looked cheaply made — the metal frame clashed terribly with the wooden table — but the cushion made it comfortable enough.
Krista watched him with a playful grin as he settled into the seat.
George took a sip of the tea.
Disgusting.
It tasted like dirt water.
But he didn't say that aloud.
Krista, meanwhile, drank hers happily.
She continued smiling like she had something she wanted to say.
"Alright," she said. "I'll go first… George, have you got a girlfriend?"
George nearly spat out his second sip of tea.
"That's what you want to know first? Not my favourite colour? Favourite chocolate?"
"Noooo George, that's boooorrring."
She leaned further across the table.
"Come on."
"No."
"Come on. Where else would you be disappearing so suddenly?"
Ah.
So that was it.
She was suspicious.
Explaining the truth felt far too complicated. If she didn't believe him, he'd look like a complete idiot.
"The tea's nice."
"You obviously don't like it."
"Yeahhh…"
They both laughed.
"You already told me you don't like tea George. Why didn't you say no? I've got coffee. Hot chocolate."
"Well shit, now I wish I did say no."
George stared quietly at the mug.
This moment felt better than any time he had used his powers.
Just sitting here, chatting about nothing.
It beat fighting aliens who wanted him dead any day of the week.
"Hey Krista, what's life like back home? Special someone waiting?"
"Life at home… well…"
She paused.
"Grew up in Marleille. My dad's my whole world. Mum wasn't in the picture long… just disappeared one night. She was never much of a stay-at-home mum. But hey, it's fine. Just made me love my dad even more."
George immediately regretted asking.
The room fell painfully quiet.
"Sorry, didn't mean to kill the moo—"
"No, it's fine," Krista said softly. "Your dad seems like a great guy…"
"The best. Gives me fuel to keep going."
She suddenly seemed quieter than usual.
Like she wanted to say something but held it back.
"Well?" George asked. "Fuel to do what?"
Krista bit her lip.
"I'm gonna be the greatest actress the world's ever seen. I'll win awards, make billions and pay my dad back for everything he's done for me. So he never has to worry about me again. He can relax in a villa somewhere sunny for the rest of his life."
"Well, well, well. How ambitious," George said.
"I assume you've had lessons then?"
"No, but—"
"Then how the hell are you going to become the greatest actress the world's ever seen?"
"Okay big guy, what about you?"
George paused.
Fulfilment.
Freedom.
The words always sounded hollow when he thought about them.
"I want to help people."
"Cool, so like a doctor?"
"Not quite… like… a hero?"
Krista laughed.
"A hero? Like a police officer then. Or what, do you want to be Superman?"
George smiled faintly.
But if he lost his powers tomorrow…
Who would he actually be?
"You know what Krista," George said, standing up. "How about we get some drinks, watch a film and tomorrow we'll look for some acting classes. I'll be your manager."
If he couldn't figure out his own path yet, maybe helping someone else chase theirs would help him along the way.
"Okay boss," Krista laughed. "What are we watching?"
George grinned.
"21 Jump Street."
The two of them sat on the worn sofa, bathed in the glow of the television.
For the moment, life felt peaceful.
Neither of them worried about the future.
Both blissfully unaware of what was waiting for them.