'Who's he?'
'God knows. He must be a Stray, surely.'
'Why would they train a Stray?'
'Your guess is as good as mine.'
'Shush. I think he's looking.' The two women went quiet as Harvey peeked round the edge of the slot machine, catching their eyes from across the half-empty room. They needn't have stopped their gossiping, for Harvey had been hearing similar pockets of conversation all week. Wherever he went, whether it be in the gym during his daily exercise regime, or in The Silver Unicorn where he ate lunch with Brian, or out on the beach doing laps, people would pause and stare. Often they would whisper amongst friends, with all the subtlety of a herd of rampaging elephants.
At first Harvey had been embarrassed for the attention; word had spread quickly the day following his record achieving feat, and suddenly the new boy was a topic of great interest for the residents of Headquarters. They ogled, pointed, trailed him through the corridors to get a better look or otherwise steered well clear, choosing to observe him from a safe distance. Brian had warned him to expect such behaviour, and to ignore it as best he could. It was easier said than done.
Only the night before, Harvey had returned to his room on the third floor after a particularly bad training session with Brian, to be accosted by two young girls who had followed him back. They had badgered him with questions, even being so bold as to stand in the doorway to stop him entering. He could still hear their shrill, pompous voices ringing through his mind. 'Where did you come from? You're not one of us. Why're you here? Why's Golden Boy training you? Where's your family? Do you even have a family?' It was at this point that Harvey had forcefully shoved the two girls out of his way and slammed the door in their faces.
It angered Harvey that people should feel the need to pester him in such crass ways. If he had anything in his life, it was his right to privacy. Harvey had always made sure to keep to himself, even as a child. He never said too much, never made friends, never once considered the possibility of living an ordinary life. What had mattered to him most, and what still did, was that he care for his mother, concentrate on helping her get better, show her the love and affection she deserved. That had been his lot in life - to right the wrongs, turn the tide, to heal.
But these ideals were now threatened. His mother's whereabouts were still unknown. The angel had remained anonymous in the days following its brutal assault on Harvey's home, its reckless intrusion into his life. Every day since, without fail, Harvey had asked Brian for updates. 'Have they found my mom yet? Do they know where the angel is? What's taking them so long?' The answer was always the same. Harvey had learned to expect responses such as 'The Council are still investigating,' and 'they're doing everything they can.' Automatic replies. Empty words.
