Hidden- Danny Rand (ON HOLD FOR NOW)

Chapter One

     I was having a lovely dream until my alarm cut in. "Uggh," I groan sleepily. "Five more minutes, Peter." Of course, my phone didn't hear me, so I just ignored it until the sound had practically seared itself into my brain, then I sat up sharply and turned off the alarm. 

My vision filled with black dots, and I got scared for a second. "No, I didn't even do anything," I whimper. The black dots vanish, and I breath out a sigh of relief as I realize that it must've been from sitting up so fast. 

I yawn loudly, stretching, then stand up confidently and get dressed. Black sleeveless hoodie, imitation leather boots, sweats. After, I head to the bathroom to put on my trademark Emo makeup: black eyeshadow, cat eyeliner, heart on cheek, black nail polish. I stop when it's done to look in the mirror at the person standing in it. 

Before I moved away from my parents, I was never allowed to express myself like this. They were always so ashamed. I scoffed. I wonder why that is, I thought sincerely. I'm happy when I express myself freely, not in those damned private school uniforms. The girl in front of me was my true self, and I love her.

I leave the bathroom and head to the kitchen, craving some food, but I open the fridge already knowing what I would see. "Let's see, Shiz, what grand feast will you have this morning?" I ask myself sarcastically. "The current choices are protein drinks, yogurt, or... ooh, this is new! How would you like an eviction notice on the side of that?" I sigh sadly, staring at the yellow flyer I had taped to the back of my fridge.

I have been living by myself since 8th grade, and I'm constantly behind on my payments, always getting threats and shit from the company who owns the complex. I shouldn't be bothered by this one, but I'm afraid that I will actually lose my apartment this time, and it's not exactly perfect timing to be evicted in the middle of the NYC winter. Harry could probably help me out, I think, but I shove the thought away. I don't want him to know any more about my home life than he already does. 

Positive thoughts, Shizuko, I tell myself, trying to stop thinking about the impending doom. Just focus on the day ahead of you. Remember, jūnin toiro. To each his own. I take a deep breath, and then grab a protein shake from the fridge and run down to the gym, grabbing my tape and knapsack from my locker in the hallway. 

On the stairs, my phone starts to ring, and I pick up, already knowing who it was. "Yes, Peter, I'm ready. Can you be here in ten? I'm going to practice, and I really don't want to be late today." "Smooth as always, Shizuko." The voice of my bestie Peter Parker chirps back at me. "Sure, I'll be there soon. Whatcha practicing?" 

My voice gets a touch harder on instinct, not wanting him to know too much about my life outside of school. "You ask that everyday, and everyday I will say the same. Stuff." He could tell that I didn't want to talk, so he just replied with a sassy "Seeya, kamikaze" and ended the call. My neck pricks and I shove my phone back into my pocket, annoyed. 

Kamikaze has been Peter's nickname for me ever since he found out that I was Japanese-American. He thinks it's cool, because of how Japanese kamikaze pilots risked their lives for their country, and he definitely  thinks its cooler than my real name- Nishida Shizuko is apparently very hard for him to say. Personally, I hate the nickname because I had hoped when I moved here that I would cut all ties to my parents and heritage. But no, he has to remind me every time he sees me with the stupid nickname. Ugggh. I can already tell that it's gonna be a very good day.

I finally reach the doors to the gym, and I fling them wide open. Kick-boxing is one of the only times of day when I can let out all my anger that I have bottled up over the last few hours, so I always try to find time for it. I put in my earbuds and turn on Feel Something by Bea Miller, which is one of my favorite songs in the whole world, and always gets me hyped up. Then I tape up my hands, kick off my boots, and start attacking the bag, one hit for every bad thought or negative thing in my life. 

BAM- For my parents never being able to get their shit together and be good people.

BAM- For those damn powers going into my system at the worst possible time.

BAM- Peter never quitting with the nicknames.

BAM- Me not being able to get rid of my depression.

BAM- For never being able to pay my bills on time.

BAM- For being scared shitless of Harry actually caring about my home life if he ever found out.

The movements have a hypnotic effect, and before I know it, I've maxed out and I can hear Peter knocking on the door to the gym. I don't bother to unwrap my hands, so I just grab my bag from the floor, throw it over one shoulder, and walk out the doors, still sweating like a pig. But do I care? No. No, I do not. 

Peter's eyes widen when he sees me, and he stops knocking. "Were you fighting Iron Man in there, and why was I not invited?" I laugh as we walk out the door, shaking my head in mock disappointment. "If I knew that you wanted to fight him, you should have told me! I thought you were in love with the guy!" He gives a slightly laugh, saying quietly, "Now that's just cold." "How did you even get in there, anyway?" I asked, curious. He shook his head, chuckling quietly. "Dude, seriously?" He asks, glancing at me for a second. I keep looking at him, waiting for an answer. "I've been there thousands of times, Gladys is basically my best friend!" "Your range of friends astounds me, Mr. Parker," I shoot at him in a posh British accent. "From Harry Osborn to my receptionist, it's really quite entrancing, seeing your people skills in action." He lets out a hearty laugh, and I join him. I know that we must look pretty weird- a boy in a warm sweatshirt walking next to an almost goth girl with no sleeves, laughing in the middle of the NYC winter.

"Speaking of your apartment," Peter starts after we had calmed down. "what were you doing-" "Ohh, look at the time!" I interrupt anxiously, glancing down at a watch that doesn't exist. "We're gonna be late if we don't hurry!" I start to jog in front of him, leaving him to shake his head and catch up to me.

Ok, guys, you pick: Nick, John, or Ash?

Silent but observant, spoken for and reserved, or outgoing and friendly?

Last one for now: Empire State Building, Bank of America Tower, World Trade Center, or Chrysler Building?

Please choose, I need to know before I publish the 3rd chapter!!!!!!!!