From The Smoke (Marvel)

Chapter 5

Disclaimer: If you recognise it, surprise, I don't own it.

Chapter 5– Eye Opening.

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"So, Ben, what is your story? Also, what is your connection to Spider-Man?" She asks as she begins to haphazardly pour herself some red wine and spill some all over the white sofa staining it practically forever because she is trying to focus on the TV while fixing herself a drink. She also doesn't seem to care about anything in this luxury penthouse suite because it doesn't belong to her.

It is also kind of pissing me off that she asks me such an important question about my life, like it doesn't really matter. This woman is paying more attention to her wine and TV show than she is to an impertinent question about my existence. I don't think I will answer her. I am not even sure why I am here.

"I'm not saying anything. why do you even want to know? Honestly, I am wasting my time. I don't even know why I came." I really don't. All I know is that she said some hard-hitting things that really hit the nail on the head for me, and when she told me to follow her, I ended up doing so. Maybe it was because she flashed a little skin at me, and I followed, being controlled by my other head.

I really am not Peter am I, as he would have definitely not done that, and yet I did. So I guess at least half of me is not Peter which means I will obviously make some different decisions than him, but then again, Peter is also the cleverer half, so this was probably just a bad call made by my idiot half that was blinded by the sway of her succulent flesh, I need to get out of here before I make any more mistakes.

"Come on now, Ben. You know why you came here? It's because you have nowhere else to go. So now come here and take a seat. Do you like The Office? Do you want some wine? I have beers as well?" So what the hell am I doing? I really don't know, but I go and sit down anyway. Still, I make sure to sit on the sofa chair instead of on the same couch as her as I am sure that if I do, then I might end up making some serious mistakes, so I cross my arms and sit stiffly on the chair as if that will somehow make my mindset rigid and unchanging.

"No thanks, I'm good," I say, rejecting the glass of wine she was offering me, and she just shrugs and takes a sip showing she doesn't care about my rejection. My more ordinary side constantly worried about saying the wrong thing or offending someone by accident and forever breaking that bridge, which is probably why that side didn't really achieve much. I will be better than that. I will be better than both of them.

"So Ben, you clearly don't want to talk about it. And that is fine. It is actually normal. But we are not normal people, are we? I go out and steal all sorts of things while dressed as a cat. I don't even steal valuable things sometimes, like one time I stole a small plushie of a cat from a gift store at a museum I robbed and completely forgot about what I came for and left with just the plushie." I actually, for some reason, that actually makes me feel a bit better.

"I still have that plushie in my room right now. And you, well, you are dressed like Spider-Man, have the same powers as Spider-Man, you sound, talk and quip like him and yet, you are not Spider-Man, not at all. It isn't hard to make some guesses. I mean, there are all sorts of stuff in this world, and you hear quite a lot of bizarre things. I am sure you are not the weirdest thing to ever exist." I am not the weirdest thing in the world, and it probably isn't the most incredible thing in the world, but to know that there are others in more abnormal and worse situations than myself makes me feel better.