Vacuum

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Project Nemesis
"Vacuum"

The "Jansted Building":  An early 20th century skyscraper nestled snuggly between Gibson Boulevard and 21st Avenue. Who worked here was anyone's guess. It was one of the larger buildings downtown, and certainly prominent institutions held offices and firms there. Occasionally you would see a gentleman in a suit or a woman with power hair inflicting terror as she caught your glance. And occasionally a terrorist or naked guy protesting... something... would make a target of the building. But that was the "Jansted Building". Official. Dignified. Seasoned.
     The common rabble, however, knew it as "Gibson and Clark", and you would be hard pressed to find a single suit or power-do between any in the sea of young twenty-somethings with hoodies, cargo shorts, and sandals. The 21st Avenue turns into Clark street two lights down east, y'see. Which is also where the first major bus stop from the south west expanses and western well-to-do suburbia meets the first major subway station. Both the expanse and well-to-do territories have their own colleges, and the City's university isn't too far away west on Gibson. Several bars south, and a park top off the northern area, and 'Gibson & Clark' became the single most recognized downtown rally point in and out of metropolis. Less because of prime location. More because in the 90's the entire first floor was dedicated to a crazy barista / dance club combination. From dawn to dusk, it was a coffee shop with a sophisticated café feel to it (you could also order alcohol). From dusk to dawn, it changed its music from hipster to techno and the bartenders wore slightly less clothing (they will still serve you a frappuccino or macchiato if you asked). Also, twenty-four hour Wi-Fi. It's popular with the kids these days.
     Erik and Richard crammed their way into a surprisingly small revolving door, and in boyish humor pushed their way through from their east entry. "Who invented these things?" Richard laughed, "this is just silly. I feel like a rat in a wheel."
     "C'mon, we got like an hour," Erik rushed him, huffing to push the door faster than it was intended to spin. "And some German guy, I think."
     They transferred to the interior as the fading sunlight glistened on the tinted windows. "I could make a Holocaust joke of that, but-"
     "Please don't, thank you."
     The evening transformation was already in progress. Two girls were pushing empty tables to a wall, making dance space. Of the two guys at the counter, one was in a charming tux serving a mocha while the other was in a tank top and slacks, wiping down the sink to the bar area. Erik approached and ordered a seasonal spice drink. "What do you want, Ricky?"
     "I don't want your girly poison," Richard spat.
     "He'll have a short mild with room."
     "Erik, I don't-"
     Erik passed his credit card to the suited man while Erik cut Richard off, "Look dude, I got an hour with you. Drop the bullshit. You're good for it and you know I know you're good for it. Let me buy you a fucking coffee. Jesus." The barista perched an eyebrow as he began putting the drinks together. "Lover's quarrel," Erik grinned devilishly.
     "He's joking," Richard intervened.
     "Pick a seat, pumpkin," Erik waved him off.
     The barista rolled his eyes. "It's okay. I see it all the time."
     Richard took a seat at one of the unmoveable booths with window ledges in the back. Eventually got the drinks and strode in the direction he went, a paper cup in each hand. When Erik found him, Erik appraised him. Richard was still his tall, meaty self, but dressed in jeans and a polo, Erik wasn't sure if he was going for an aging frat guy look. Erik thought the mission requirements made it evident that something more classy was appropriate, like, say, nice black pants with a button up shirt (which Erik was very fond of), sleeves rolled up, top collar unbuttoned. Erik checked himself out a window reflection, and winked. If Conner taught them anything, it was to be proud of the way they looked. Making a slightly disappointed face at Richard, Erik wondered if he forgot those good ol' days. Erik set the drinks down at the table Richard chose, then saddled up next to him and put a hand on his inner thigh. "Miss me?"
     He whelped. "Erik! Dude!"
     "Chill!," Erik snickered, getting up and moving to the seat across from him. "You're so testy these days."
     "I just don't want to give people the wrong impression."
     "That you're a homo?"
     Richard glared, "No."
     "Because you totally are. That guy in the tux was totally giving you that, 'Haven't I seen you somewhere before?' look." Richard took a sip of his coffee and balked at the bitterness. "Yeah, I figured the big 'manly man' would want his 'no sissy drinks please' coffee with a little bit of sissy in it." Erik pushed the cream and sugar over to him. "Who's girly now?, faggot."
     "Shuddap, Ginger Spice." Richard took the condiments and corrected the disgusting error in his cup. While Erik settled in, Richard began to wonder if Erik was trying too hard. They weren't kids anymore, and the way Erik was dressed, you'd think he was either going for an interview or maybe he even worked upstairs. Even at Gibson and Clark during sundown, you shouldn't see a twenty-three year old man getting his dick grabbed by another under the coffee table.
     "... So..." Erik took a sip of his own drink then began pressing his fingers together, thinking determinedly about his approach. He saw an opportunity as Richard began to take a drink. "I hear Katy is in town."
     Richard spit the coffee out in a mist over Erik's face.
     Looking incredibly displeased as he began to inspect the damage to his attire, Erik reconsidered that approach. "... I was going to ask if you were over it, but- honestly- I should've known better."
     "Shit! Dude! Why didn't you tell me earlier!"
     "She's on this run, Ricky." Erik grabbed some tissues from the dispenser by the window. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about."
     "Fuck! Erik, why didn't you say something?!"
     Erik pondered. "Because I knew you'd freak out?" He dabbed the cuffs of his dress shirt. "Seriously, dude, I thought a spit-joke would've been worth it, but this is a sixty-dollar shirt, man."
     "Erik, c'mon. She's not really here, right? I mean, she's been gone for years. Why would she be on this run?"
     "She's here, Rick, and you need to do that 'not freaking out' thing. This is why I wanted to talk to you before we kicked this off- Six o'clock." Richard's eyes became shifty at Erik's sudden warning but he fought the urge to turn around. He and Erik took swigs of their coffee simultaneously while some girls came up behind them giggling about their evening's expectations. "... Sorry, I thought she was listening for a sec. Ever since that mob-rat tried to take out Mal, I get a little.. y'know." Erik followed her with his eyes, and while looking over his shoulder, one of the girls looked back, saw him staring, and snapped back forward giggling feverishly. "Y'know, I think she was actually. She thinks I'm cute," Erik smiled at himself satisfactorily. Then despair again, "Or maybe it's the shirt?"
     "Erik, if this is a joke-"
     "Dude, I'm not fucking with you!" Erik groaned. "Look, man, you need to calm down. This isn't that big a deal. Or, it shouldn't be. I was worried you'd bug out, but I don't understand why you are."
     "Why is she back in town?"
     "She finished school a couple months ago, Ricky. She should be back in town. Actually, I'm not even sure. If the new semester started, then it's probably been a while. I didn't tell you because I didn't think you were ready, and then I kinda' forgot. I mean, it's been forever. I thought you'd have heard it by now, and hopefully you'd already be good."
     "What do you mean?"
     "C'mon, man," Erik gave Richard a side glance. "I know you like to play it off to the others, and they have had a few years to forget about it, but don't play me. I don't know what happened. I never asked, and I won't. A man has a right to keep his lady-business private. But it's obvious something happened. And you've been avoiding her like the plague since before we got out of high school. It's been a damn long time. Every time she's come home, you've suddenly got stuff to do. Conner notices it. Bel notices it. Naz notices it. The only person who doesn't notice it is Mal. And she's kinda'... y'know. She's got important angel stuff."
     "What about Donnie?"
     "You want a report card on everyone in the Team? About your issues? Donnie hates you. Jessica and Gerome don't even know you. Or us."
     "What about June?"
     "Who?"
     "Very funny."
     "Look, I'm not trying to make this weird for you. That is actually why I brought you here, remember? To tell you? Work it out of your system? And so you can not make this awkward and focus on what we have to do. We're important this time. We can't fuck it up because you got Katyitis. Mal needs us to distract- and with the way you fucked up my shirt, I don't think it'll be that hard." Erik dabbed at it in vain a little more. "We may actually get our hands dirty, though, if it's what Conner thinks it is. The front desk may be expecting us, and last time we dealt with the Corporation, they were shooting first, and not asking questions later. I'm with you solo. Do you get that? She's given you your own healer. She wouldn't put me with you unless she thought I'd have to patch you back together."
     "... Okay, I got it. I'll be fine."
     "... Okay. ... You sure?"
     "We got a job to do."
     "Okay, sure, the job. But I also mean after."
     Richard thought about it. "I'm fine."
     "Ricky," Erik struggled with the words "... Okay, I may not be good at all this touchy-feely stuff. But I'm your best friend. What's going on?"
     "I thought you said you wouldn't get into another man's 'lady business'." Ricky finished his small coffee.
     "I know what I- Argh- Friend card! Friend card right now!"
     "Oh, come on!"
     "Friend card, Richard!" Erik raised his hand high, imitating holding an invisible slip of authority. "I'm calling you out. Friend card:  Tell me what's going on. Right now." Richard slumped in his chair a little, and Erik tapped his foot impatiently. "... Dude."
     "I'm thinking! I got it! Yes, 'friend card'! Okay! Jeeze. God, why the fuck do you and Conner gotta' do that?"
     "Technically, I think Donnie has one, too."
     "Tsh, bullshit. I'd rather give one to Tristan," Richard mumbled. "... Okay, y'know she and I were going out in Saugus?"
     "Sort of. I don't remember you making it official in high school."
     "She didn't want to. I thought maybe it was the whole retro-thing. Being a rebel. Don't want labels or anything like that. But-" Richard paused. "You remember when we both got accepted, right?"
     "Yeah."
     "... She told me she just wanted to go as friends. She didn't want to be my girl, or anything. 'Just wanted to be friends.' She said she didn't want to lose me and all that, but she just didn't want to go as a couple." How should he get out of this loop? "I mean, you know me, Erik. I don't get hung up on that stuff. I never did. But... I really liked Katy. And I- Well, I don't think I've ever been dumped before. I keep thinking, 'Why?' What'd I fuck up? What'd I do wrong? I mean, let's be real for a second. I'm not stuck up. I'm not bad looking."
     "I'd date you," Erik nodded.
     "Man, I'm being serious here."
     "So am I. If I was gay, I'd bang you like a shotgun. Okay, I'm joking. But, yes, objectively, you're a good looking guy. Almost as hot as me."
     "Thanks," Richard said flat.
     "Hey, neither of us are as hot as Conner," Erik shrugged. "But Katy didn't wig out about him either. I know the whole 'bi thing' throws people off, but no one even knew he liked guys for real until Tristan. You'd think she'd have made a pass at him. Then again, she doesn't look like the passing type."
     "I thought the bi-thing started with JP."
     Erik shook his head. "No, Donnie hooked up with Marcela who was hitting on JP hard core and I think all four of them- Conner, too- got really drunk and JP was curious, so Conner put those 'bromance' moves on him- Wait. Dude! Dude, this is about you!"
     "I don't know," Richard looked at Erik surprised, "I'm kinda' interested. I didn't know JP was just a fling for Conner."
     "Not a fling. They were experimenting. Or everyone thought they were experimenting, but for Conner it was real. And JP didn't like it, so he ditched Conner, who- so far as we know- only dated girls in high school. Perhaps to mend his broken boy-loving-side-of-the heart. Now if you don't mind? Where were we? You were handsome, smart, and athletic with sexy muscles. You're awesome, Katy dumps you, and you're all butt hurt after four years?"
     "More or less," Richard half-admitted. He clipped his coffee cup with his fingers, then let it go realizing it was empty. He didn't actually want anymore, he just needed something to look at other than Erik.
     Richard suspected something was up when Erik sent him a text to meet at this place. He didn't know how, but he knew Erik had ulterior motives than a simple pep-talk or prep-work. And this just wasn't the time to get into the gritty details. So Richard decided he wouldn't bring up the actual conversation he and Katy had when they both opened their acceptance letters years ago. How they talked for hours about which they should take. Harvard was the obvious choice, but they just were having so much fun between the other well known names. Oxford, Colombia, every state's own school, and a few abroad in exotic places they would've loved to visit but not actually stay in. These were plans they had made together, culminating over their senior year and second year in a unnamed relationship. Plans that in an instant disappeared, like they were nothing. Plans that, for her, never included him to begin with.
     And he couldn't bring up how after she broke up him, she said she'd still call. That she'd still write. How he never went to Harvard. How she didn't call. Broken promises on both ends. Avoidance on both ends. That something lingered over his head, like it was more than just adolescent wisdom to not be too committed before embarking on life's great journey. Richard had fucked up somehow. He knew not how, but knew it, itself. And perhaps Katy never forgave him. Maybe he never forgave her? But he wasn't ready to face all these thoughts. And Erik would suspect if he just left it at that. "Look, I know what you're going to say. 'Get over it.' But Katy was ... you know. She was the One. I've never met anyone like her, or who made me feel like the way I did with her. I mean, she's beautiful."
     "Arguably," Erik shrugged. "A little stringy and pinched faced, but whatever floats your boat."
     "She's smart."
     "Smarter than you, definitely."
     "She's strong."
     "Strong? She's like ninety pounds. You need to tie bowling balls to her feet or she'd float way with the wind."
     "Not funny."
     "Holy shit! You are totally pussywhipped by this girl!"
     In a surprisingly fair tone, "Don't talk about her that way, Erik. She's your friend, too."
     "No, Ricky. You are my best friend. And she was a friend, several years ago. I admit, she is special. Obviously. She's on the Team, after all. But she's not perfect. She's not the One. ... But I think you're really in love with her."
     "I think I've always been," Richard blushed.
     Erik felt a little grossed out by the puppy love, but moved on, "So that doesn't maker her the 'One', just the, uh... 'One Who Got Away', then. Okay. Got it. " There was an awkward pause as Erik's mind naturally transitioned from 'touchy-feely' to 'problem-fix it', avoiding the obvious feeling that there was more to be said. "Well... you're still in shape! ...'Sh. And you're still smart as fuck. And you still got that chiseled jaw!" Erik fake punched Richard's chin, who laughed gently and played along with it. "She's back from college. We're getting the band back together. Just be yourself. If you got a second chance, now's the time. ... But, uh... Now really isn't the time, or the best time, at the same time, you know what I mean?"
     "What time is it exactly?" Richard blinked sarcastically. "Time to go?"
     "We haven't been talking that long, bro. And I demand cuddle time after this heart-to-heart." Richard sighed, and Erik felt a strange twinge of resentment forming. Maybe not forming. Maybe growing. "Other than the whole Katy thing, I haven't spoken to you in a few. So tell me what's new?"
     "Still in the basement." Richard felt he was moving from one admission of being a loser to another. "No progress on the Kryocircuit. But it's still functioning just fine, and I was able to make a few adjustments. I'm going to test them out if everything goes according to plan. I can project a short ray of heat. Has the effect of a heat lamp when I put it on very low power."
     "So we can offer some guard a tan? Or maybe a sunburn if they try to shoot at us. Sounds great."
     "I still have to mostly rely on the leverage system, yes," Richard snorted at the attack. "I still got the mechanical strength and the carapace is still pretty thick even with diverting power, but I think with a few tweaks- depending on how much resistance different materials give me- I can actually make a beam out of it. Something with real effects. I just want to test it on real materials in the outside world. I'm worried if I do something at home, it'll tip off my parents."
     Erik raised his eyebrows as he finished his drink. "Like a weapon? A photon rifle? A ray gun? A laser beam?" Erik gasped, "Oooo! A ... 'light saber'?"
     "I think it'll be a little less glamorous than Star Wars but it'll definitely be something if I can loop the energy right. I just need to have enough ice in the pack, and that's where it really gets complicated. I can only loop back power in certain ways to keep the water cooled, and I need to flush it through the arm with the beam to make sure it doesn't burn me, too. I'm also worried about radiation if it goes wrong. I haven't really considered if there will be any kind of byproduct from the target area itself. I'm confident my suit will protect me from that, though- assuming I can contain the heat."
     "You're a fucking mad scientist, bro! How could Katy dump you? Matter of fact, fuck the whole gay/straight thing. She can't have you. I'm keeping you for myself."
     "Erik, sometimes, I really worry about- you- Hold on." Richard felt vibrations in his pocket and pulled out his phone. Malaika's number was ringing. "... It's Mal. One sec."
     Erik nodded, and grimaced. He grimaced harder realizing that it didn't matter if he showed all his facial expressions or not. Richard wouldn't notice. Maybe it was a little selfish of him, but for it to be interrupted now, their catchup was going so well. And yet not at the same time. Richard didn't want to be here. He wanted to be back in his laboratory trying to reverse engineer his ice-engine. He was doing awesome things, and there was so much to talk about on his end, alone.
     And ... well, Erik had been working so hard over the last few months, too. Months- god, where does the time go? Had he really gotten so old that he could even think a phrase like that? Erik hadn't really talked to any of the gang this whole time. Their last few runs didn't need him, and thank goodness for that since it was the high buying season, and a couple of high number homes were needing realtors. But that's the thing. He hasn't talked to anyone. No one knew about how he was able to take advantage of some fuckups between the others in the firm, and how he schmoozed the boss into letting him prove himself. No one knows just how much Erik proved for himself. Maybe no one cared. And maybe it was a little selfish, but sometimes you want to tell someone besides Mom about your triumphs. Is it so much to ask to be able to hear something like 'I'm proud of you, bro!', especially from someone you're supposed to call your best friend? Is that really too much to ask?
     And, frankly, as Richard said himself, Erik did in fact know him. Erik knew him really well. Richard wasn't a man whore, but he wasn't sentimental or effeminate either. Certainly not a hopeless romantic. Of the old group, Erik always saw Richard as the leader. He was the smart one. He was the strong one. He was the dashing quarterback to Erik's guard and Conner's wide-receiver. But ever since they graduated, Erik saw him melt into a closeted, anti-social, pansy-ass bitch. There was something he wasn't telling Erik. There's a reason he's not going to an Ivy League school... Brilliant people don't go to Saugus Community College. People like Erik go to Saugus. Went to Saugus. How the hell was Richard keeping himself in there when someone like Erik graduated with honors a year prior, easily at that? Erik crumpled up his cup in agitation as the conversation on the phone went on.
     In high school, they were the closest friends that can be without it getting weird. Katy didn't even complicate it that much. Erik could remember those days better than all the rest of them. Was that an indicator that he cared too much about bygone times? Aren't friends supposed to be forever? Aren't friends supposed to spend time with each other? Aren't friends supposed to care about those bygone times? Erik allowed himself to be unsure about those things. But not this:  Friends aren't supposed to lie to each other. Was that too much to ask?
     "Okay. We're on the way." Richard motioned for Erik to get up while he shut off the call, "There's a problem. Conner isn't at the spot yet, and Donnie isn't there either. The newbies are missing, too."
     "Great. Well, good chat."
     "Don't worry," Richard punched Erik in the arm, somewhat ruthlessly. Erik caught himself off balance and rubbing where the hit landed while Richard brushed past for the exit. That's how he knew Richard meant it. "I'll get you next time. I want to hear about you, too. I missed you, bro."
     Erik smiled, but to Richard's back, he let his face reveal confliction that he hid from his voice. "Awww. I knew you cared."