Invisible Boy

End

Epilogue: Two Years Later

"Let's talk about the Invisible Boy theory."

"Ridiculous, absurd, a bunch of lies from rambling con's trying to get the attention off them and their crimes!" Jenny Brooks says with a shake of her head. The news hosts, Jenny Brooks, Amanda Rodriguez, Bolton Haines, and Dixie Lionel are sitting around a table with their early coffee to discuss another trendy topic of the day.

"Is it though? There have been countless reports matching the same description over the last two to three years," Bolton argues immediately. "So much so that the public has gotten wind of it."

"Not to mention the pictures." Amanda holds up her mug before taking a sip.

"Blurry pictures of what looks to be some kid running around playing dress up," Dixie chimes in. She's always playing the devil's advocate and I thoroughly enjoy hearing them discuss, well, me.

Bolton points to Dixie. "So you're saying you no longer believe he's real?"

"Oh, I do believe we have some vigilante's on the streets. This one's just dressing up and scaring people, making him think he's something he's not."

I purse my lips. The hell is that supposed to mean?

"So, what, he somehow manages to attack these thieves on his own without any weapons?" Amanda asks. "There are accounts of this person taking down five to six men on his own without a single casualty."

"Unconfirmed accounts," Jenny scoffs, shaking her head in disbelief. "Besides, are you trying to imply that his name is literal? He's actually invisible? Give me a break! If he's invisible, how did we get the so called pictures?"

Just then, one of these so-called pictures pops up on screen. Ah, it's a pretty awful picture. I'm all blurry. Ok, so I guess that's a good thing. All they can see is an outline of my body shrouded in black from head to toe. My mask hides my face, but now there's "IB" written on the right cheek in blue, which has become my sort of signature. I don't leave it around, but people have certainly started using it. I've seen people trying to draw what they think I look like online as well as writing IB on buildings to scare off local criminals. Apparently it's a way to signal I've been around that part of town before. It's like I've got my own bat signal! I really am like Batman, but still gay and still not rich. Thinking about it makes me chuckle.

The picture disappears a moment later.

"And he's clearly wearing a mask!" Jenny also points out. "If he's invisible, why have it? This is a load of hocus pocus made up by scared people. I can't blame them. Crimes are rampant—"

"But dropping fast," Bolton interrupts. "Since the so-called Invisible Boy has come around the streets are getting safer. People have hope. They have someone to look up to."

"Another criminal, you mean?" Dixie chimes in.

Rude. I mean, yes, I kind of am since I have broken into some places to get those criminals and, technically, I am a vigilante, but I'm a good guy! Whatever, I'm so under appreciated.

"Whether people wish to admit it or not, this boy is a criminal and we have no idea if he's done crimes himself. How do we know he isn't using this to cover up his own cri—"

The TV is clicked off causing me to spin around to find Mom standing behind the couch with her hand on her hip. I give her a smile but she's still glaring.

"You're on the news again," she says. Her tone is not pleased.

"Yeah, Mom, I'm a freaking celebrity."

She rolls her eyes. "Micah, I get that you're more confident now but...I'm worried about you. This vigilante stuff it's-it's—"

"Crazy?"