chapter 8

"And this is why you should rue the day you crossed Big Tech!"

Another board meeting broken up. Another fortune sent straight from the pockets of fat cats to Blackwater's most vulnerable. Another day rued.

As many times as he'd used the word at this point, Eddie still didn't know what "ruing" involved, but as he jetted out of the office building, taking care not to fly through the window he'd broken on his way in, he didn't especially care. Truth be told his mind hadn't even been on the heist at any point; these smash and grabs were getting stale by now. No, what obsessed Eddie at that particular moment, and every moment since he'd seen her in all her high-res, televised glamor, was Bombshell, calling him unworthy of her basest of efforts.

It wasn't damn fair.

But in retrospect, Eddie shouldn't have been surprised. Bombshell had always been an outspoken agitator like himself, more than willing to bend the law in pursuit of a more genuine justice. Still, he would've hoped that she'd have disapproved of some of his actions, or at the very least, taken interest in them: why, oh why, did she have to share so much with him?

Eddie supposed he liked her. In another life, he could have 'like'-liked her, in that way. Clearly, irrespective of whatever a fiercely fatphobic media said, Bombshell was a true hero, always with one eye on the people and the other on a plump belly.

But Eddie didn't need a hero.

He needed an executioner.

As he passed above the bridge, Eddie's helmet com buzzed. It was Leo.

"Eddie, my man! You ready for our brunch at 11?

"I don't remember us arranging brunch." But as usual, Leo just had to surprise him. Such systems as schedules, he argued, should never be allowed to limit human ingenuity; not even linear time.

"Well, we just did," Leo explained, "we're having brunch at 11, just you and me. I sent you the location 23 minutes ago." A pin flashed up on Eddie's inbuilt minimap.

"But that doesn't look like--"

"Just be there, buddy," Leo groaned,"okay?"

And so, Eddie set a new course to this destination.

***

"Well? What do you think?"

For one thing, Leo's choice of meeting spot was devoid of brunch bars. Indeed, the closest thing the secluded spot had to any sort of construct was the remains of a tiny wooden dock, rapidly rotting away for an audience of overgrown greenery. Nothing was here, nothing at all: nothing but Leo.

"I think," said Eddie, "this was never really about brunch."

Leo loosened his outstretched arms and lazily slapped his supervillain on the shoulder.

"70% of the time brunch isn't about brunch either," he explained. "You just gotta learn to roll with the lingo, I did."

"Still, I'd expect food at the very least."

"The last time I tried to feed you, you turned up your nose like an ingrate. Besides!" Leo grinned, and gestured once again to his surroundings. "This is the hottest new joint in town! It's so fresh, nobody but you and I know about it yet. Just wait, in a few months this place will be swarming with wannabes." His tone turned more sullen. "They'll watch every move we make."

"Well," Eddie frowned, "clearly it's hip, the portions here leave a lot to be desired."

"If you're really that hungry, I have a protein bar."

"Thanks." Eddie took the snack. "I skipped breakfast."

What else was new?

"I wouldn't recommend it for you: an active supervillain needs his carbs, eh? But a while back I moved to a fully liquid diet. I feel like an animal, man, a machine, some sort of fucking mechanical panther… it's changed my life, man."

"Sure."

"D on't think I don't detect your cynicism…"

"I guess I'm lucky you like it."

"And you're lucky I take so well to flattery. But enough of that: we've got an assignment to discuss."

"Who's on the chopping block this time?"

“Jasmine Freeman: candidate for police commissioner, but of course you already know that. Don't worry, you won't be handling that part of the operation."

“Wait, you're not thinking of--”

“Mybrid? Assassinate the woman who would eliminate our chances of selling facial recognition tech and state-of-the-art drones to the police force? My guy...it's kill or be killed out here. I thought you knew that."

"Kill--?" Eddie was suddenly thankful he'd only taken a nibble of the protein bar. Even that small bite was threatening to come back up. "Police? I thought we were anti-state."

"But we're pro-Mybrid. Big picture! Come on, Eddie! We've already done such good work together. We've done more for this country in a month than the government has in nearly 250 years. Debt records, tax sheets, they ain't gonna wipe themselves! That's all we want at Mybrid, all we've ever wanted: an independent, interconnected world. But in order to do that, we need the right people in our pocket. We can't let anything jeopardize our ambitions. But of course," he smiled slyly, "people might misconstrue conversations like these. Anyway, your role is the easy part."

Eddie gulped. "That being?"

"You're the decoy," Leo explained."Ever since she recruited Bombshell to her side nobody's dared make a move on Freeman. It was a smart move on her part; she's pissed plenty of people off but none of them wanna risk morbid obesity. Except you, of course. She doesn't scare you. So when I realized we'd need a way to occupy Bombshell, I knew right away who to call. You're our X factor, Eddie."

It was surreal hearing Leo say such things; his commanding presence seemed to lend every word he uttered a definitive authority. And yet, Eddie could still scarcely believe that the chance to meet Bombshell had at last presented itself; he’d struggled so hard for her, fought for so long that he’d begun to accept that it would destroy him, not the feedist femme-fatale. Instead, it seemed he was not destined to be ground down to bones, but instead swallowed in softness, smothered in squishiness, blissfully buried beneath his own blubbery body...

But then, Leo opened his mouth once again, and Eddie's self-flagellating fantasy came crashing down.

"Just one catch: you'll need to take a hostage."

"What?” Eddie almost choked. “Why?"

“You heard her on Fredo. Why's she's been ignoring you? Because you don't look like enough of a threat. If you really wanna meet her, that's gotta change.”

He made good points, as ever. But as ever Eddie’s heart wasn’t really in supervillainy; he’d never hurt anybody in all his time “terrorizing” Blackwater City, and the thought of doing so now sickened him. He’d been so selfish already, bringing the Bowery Boys into his once-lonely life; involving another innocent felt callous, especially under such circumstances. But then, if this was his only chance to know justice, the only way his cowardly mind would accept its due punishment, then the risk had to be worth it; the world would be so much better with him removed from it.

"I'll do it. No sweat."

What difference could it make? He was already damned.

***

"What the fuck is this? WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?!"

It was supposed to be the Last Supper. Eddie would have his final peaceful evening with his two best friends. Underdone fettuccine Alfredo with overdone chicken, good conversation, maybe one last rewatch of The Count of Monte Cristo.

Instead, Mickey was shoving her phone under his chin in one pudgy palm.

"What am I meant to be looking at?"

"You tell me! You emailed it to me and Mari! How fucking dare you, Eddie?!"

He glanced down at the email.

'Dear friends:

By the time you read this, I may be incarcerated or worse. As my confidantes, I believe you have a right to know what happened to me. You see, it all begins with my infatuation with Bombshell…'

He could read no more.

"All this time!" screamed Mickey. "It's all been about your own, selfish--!"

"I didn't write that!"

"ARE YOU FUCKING SURE?!"

"Baby? I'll handle him. It's okay. You want to lay down in the other room?" Marion cut in, in a rare display of authority.

"Fine," snapped Mickey, lumbering off. "He's your problem now."

Her girlfriend gone, Marion smirked. “Get your jetpack,” she said, “we're going somewhere.”

“Where?”

“Surpri se!”

“Thanks,” Eddie sighed, “but I've had enough surprises lately.”

“This will be different. Hurry, there's not much time.”

After a few minutes flying in circles as Marion insisted on seeing so many of the city's landmarks from Eddie’s aerial perspective, she at last guided him to their destination and asked him to descend. He laid her down gently on the thick, foam-like grass, and with a kiss of his hand she thanked him, before beginning to stare wistfully into the distance. Waves rolled softly beneath the clifftop, a cool sea breeze whistled as it caressed Eddie’s face, but Marion stayed silent. Confused, Eddie sat down cross-legged beside her.

“So why are we here?” he asked.

“Just wait,” she replied briskly.

Slowly, the sky began to turn to a gentle orange, the sea sparkling beneath its splendor.

"Very pretty," said Eddie, sardonically.

Marion sighed.

"Isn't it just?" She paused, and raised a finger as the sky grew brighter. "I unhooked her bra right about… now."

The sky began to grow hazier, surreally serene, and Marion dropped her finger, smirking.

"When was this?" Eddie asked.

"The first time. We'd been going out for a few weeks but I was pretty prudish back then. Until that evening. She was sprawled out on a blanket, all the plastic packaging from our picnic scattered around her like some sort of aura, and her tummy… God, it was so tiny back then but I stuffed it real good, I fed her so many chips and pastries and little sausages until it turned tight, at once so firm and so fragile, and she looked up at me with big brown eyes and whimpered... ‘man, I've really overdone it…’"

Marion swooned.

“See?”, she continued, gazing into the horizon. “That's love. They were wrong about communism, about queers, but by god did Hollywood get love right. A sunset here, a brass orchestra there; if you've ever expected less you're underestimating yourself. It's sex, and it's soul, constantly clashing, swords always sparking, glowing with ravenous heat… I'd never known that until me and Mickey came here. And I knew right away I needed it, whatever the cost, and I destroyed my life trying to get it. I lost my money, my home, my family, everything. And I still miss all of that. But the thing is, that life… that wasn't me. That was my parents' daughter: their dream, not mine. Nowadays, I'm broke, I live in a shit hole and I can't even walk anymore, but I'm myself, so it's all been worth it. I tore my life down and rebuilt it from scratch, and Mickey was my muse. Every bit of blubber we added to her body was a brick, a step towards my dream and a step towards hers. And she must have, what, a billion bricks now? All our bricks, and ours alone. Nobody else's.” She had begun to cry, but quickly wiped her eyes across her sleeve. "Don't panic. I know you panic. But these are happy tears."

Her spiel over, Marion looked somewhat smug, if red in the face, whilst Eddie was left merely confused.

“So you're telling me to go ahead with the hostage,” he asked, hesitantly.

“I'm telling you that what you're after isn't love.”

“I know that.”

“You think you do. If all you cared about was the orgasm you'd just jerk yourself off. What you want is the ultimate orgasm, the orgasm to end all orgasms: your last.”

“What?” Fuck.

“Don't lie to me. You left a note. Everyone knows why people leave notes."

"Look, I don't know who sent that to you, but it wasn't me.".

“I know you, okay? I know that look in your eyes. That hollowness. That's the look of a zombie, right there.”

As he gazed upon Marion’s face he saw the girl’s ever-present aura of glamor for the first time fade away, leaving a greyed glare Eddie instantly understood the meaning of.

“Fine,” he swallowed, finally. “I swear I didn't write the note. But I want her to--to--”

Silence inevitably followed as the sun sank completely beneath the waves, leaving behind an inky black void.

“I didn't want to tell you.”

“Which is absolutely fine.” Marion paused. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

It was a while before Eddie could move his lips; they felt so dry, and so stiff.

“Mom, she...she told me I was a genius.”

“Clearly she was deluded,” Marion chuckled, “God knows you're a ***.”

“Yeah… she told me I could do anything. Everything. And she kept telling me. Again and again. She kept telling me what everything was.”

“And it was always right around the corner.”

“Because I had so much more going for me than she did.”

“Because of all she'd sacrificed.”

“I didn't realize you would…”

Marion shook her head.

“I don't. Nobody can but you. And that's all I know for sure.”

“But you--”

“Once I wanted release too, but I found something better: freedom. And that can be yours, I promise.” She moved to wrap her arm around Eddie, but he brushed it away.

“Please don't stop me,” he said, gravely.

“I can't. Whatever happens, that moment is going to come between you and Bombshell. What I'm worried about is, what are you going to make of it?”