PSEUDOYNM ━ Marvel

ACT I: ECLIPSED III

THE BEST PART ABOUT ME PASSING OUT FROM ALCOHOL so that I sleep for the night is that I never dream when I go to sleep drunk. It helps me deal with the trauma.

Loud pounding on my door wakes me up, and it isn't until I'm aware of my surroundings that the pain in my head decides to make its presence known.

Throbbing in my temple that can be traced down to the nerves behind my eyeballs. Pulsing, almost. Or something. It honestly just feels like someone is stabbing my eyes with a knife. The nausea is also there, but not as intense. I once heard that someone with abilities gets less hangovers, or rather, Captain America does. Rumors are weird.

A shame that I'm not a Super Soldier, though.

I need an aspirin. Or whatever the hell I can find to numb this pain because if I have to deal with this for the rest of the day, I'm gonna be pissed. I know I drink a lot, and should be used to the hangovers, but the intensity comes and goes, determinant on how much I drank the night before.

The pounding continues and I grunt, grabbing one of my boots off of the floor and throw it at the door, slightly-enhanced mid-air so it hits loud enough to startle the knocker.

"Inshallah, Allen!" Nimah's accented voice shouts as it makes impact on the door.

Not sure what the hell Nimah wants this early, but I suppose I get to find out.

"Jesus," I mumble to myself and pull myself out of bed.

Groggily walking towards the door while rubbing my eyes because they still hurt like a bitch, I open it to the frowning mechanic with crossed arms. "It's too early for this shit."

"It's the middle of the day, Crystal," she retorts and I wince at the volume of her voice.

Nimah rolls her eyes at me while shaking her head in disapproval. At least, I think it's disapproval. Nimah's sort of an enigma when it comes to her emotions, but I swear that it's in disapproval. "Inshallah, pull yourself together. You look like you just got out of a bar fight, just without the bruising and blood."

Glaring at her, I sigh, "what do you want, Nimah?"

She pushes past me to enter my apartment and I begrudgingly let her do so. We're on nice enough terms for me to let her do this.

"I was wondering if you would like to help me with something," she begins as she takes a seat on my kitchen counter.

Nice, Nimah. Get your ass on my counter. So nice of you.

"If this is about the argument with your boyfriend, I'm not getting involved unless you pay me," I say, shutting down any plan she had in mind. I don't do freebies.

"Oh, come on, Crystal. We're friends enough for you to do that!" She practically shouts in defiance. I wince again. "Sorry," she murmurs.

I roll my eyes, "hey, a girl's gotta make a living out here, and giving away freebies does away with that. I don't have an IOU policy."

"You should have one for friends," she says with a snort. "You know, if you ever make any."

I raise my brows waiting for her to add another dig at me, but she doesn't. So I simply respond with, "I will drag you out of that door by your foot, do not test my patience."

"Hey, it could be good for business!"

I stare at her in disbelief. There is no way she is this stupid. "You know damn well why I won't."

She shrugs, "I just wanted a reaction."

"Yeah, and you got one. Now, if that's all you wanted—"

I'm interrupted by another round of knocking on the door. Great, more people to make my already shitty start of the day more shitty.