[center][img]http://i362.photobucket.com/albums/oo63/NMShape/coollogo_com-14706267_zps64516cfe.png[/img][/center]
[center][b]Aubrey Adkins[/b][/center]
	Before Danielle ever volunteered me to take up one modeling job, even before my little ‘extreme’ make-over happened, I had (and still do have) a part-time job as a hostess at a nice, dinner-only restaurant.  It is by no means an upscale establishment, but it’s also not your average Applebee’s, either.  And [i]of course[/i] they would still require us to come in today, even in spite of the current situation that the US (and the entire world, as a matter of fact) was in.  It's not like something bad could happen within the next couple hours.  While I would not be affected directly by the whole ‘change everyone into metahumans’ thing, others would be.  Ashley probably would have a heart attack if either Felecia or Kristin would be changed into spider-people, like me.  I don’t want to know what would happen if it was [i]she[/i] the one who got transformed into an animal person.

	I need to put this out of my mind.  I’m leaving for work in just a few minutes and my job is stressful as it already is, since I have to manage a bunch of waiters and waitresses and make sure that everything does not plunge into chaos.  Therefore, I examined my face again in our bathroom mirror, checking whether I needed to fix anything in my make-up.  Then, after combing my hair several more times than I probably needed to, I finally walked out from the restroom.  Before I left, I made sure to let someone know that I was heading out.  I don’t want my roommates to panic because I was ‘missing’ (too mad I already have a very recent track record of disappearing or getting kidnapped).

	[color=B22222]“Felecia, I’m heading out for work.  We’re closing early tonight, so I should be back sooner than usual.”[/color]

	“Before you go, I have a very quick question.”  Felecia said from her position on the couch, where she had been watching one of her weekly television shows.  Fortunately, (or unfortunately), the program had already gone into commercial break, which allowed her to ask her question.  Otherwise, she would have given me the usual ‘yeah’ that showed that she was more preoccupied with her TV show.  No wonder I keep getting kidnapped.

	“I wonder why would they schedule [b]you[/b] to work at this shift.  I doubt that they are being considerate because you’re probably receiving larger tips than you use to a few weeks ago.”

	I gave a disappointed sigh.  [color=B22222]“Felecia, I don’t receive tips.  I’m a hostess, not a waitress.”[/color]

	“Well, I’m [i]sure[/i] they’re not exploiting you in anyway.”  Felecia concluded as she turned her attention back towards the television just as her show started back up.

	For a moment, I thought about what she had said.  I do vaguely remember some costumers visiting more regularly in the past couple weeks.  Heck, I recall seeing this one girl several times during my shift.  Whether alone or with some friends, it seems like she has been there a lot.  I might want to mention this to my manager.  Sure, maybe they think that I might be one reason why some people keep returning.  But how would they, the customers, know that I am working [i]tonight[/i]?  Okay, I’ll admit that I usually work on this weekday, but that doesn’t mean my schedule could have been shifted around.  Anyways, it’s not like I’m working at Hooters where their waitresses wear short shorts and tight t-shirts.  I have to wear black slacks and a nice blouse (which Athena fixed so that it would fit me correctly.  At least she did something [i]useful[/i]).  Note to self: don’t mention Hooters to my roommates.  Since April Fool’s Day is just in a month or so, I don’t want to give them any [i]good[/i] ideas.

	Then I heard three knocks on our front door.  Since I had already begun walking towards the door, I quickly turned to Felecia before I headed towards the door.

	[color=B22222]“Are you expecting anyone?”[/color]  I asked my roommate, who had redirected her attention back towards the door, away from her television program that was currently running.

	“No.”  She shook her head to agree with her response, “Maybe it is one of your apparent stalkers.  There’s that girl who lives down the hall who keeps saying that there have been several people asking for our apartment address.”

	[color=b22222]“Maybe I should take a look…”[/color]  I began to speak.  However, Felecia immediately interjected into my trail of speech.

	“ARE YOU CRAZY?”

	[color=B22222]“That’s why they invented the peepholes!  I can see who it is before I open the door, obviously.”[/color]

	Therefore, I held my head up to the peephole on our apartment door so that I could see who was on the other side of the door.  I saw a tall man with long, dark hair.  He was wearing a leather jacket over what seemed like a regular t-shirt.  He was also wearing a pair of blue jeans, which looked as if this was the first time that man had worn them.  Something about that guy seemed really familiar to me, but I couldn’t quite place my figure on what it was.

	“So?”  Felecia said from behind the couch.

	[color=b22222]“Well, he doesn’t quite match the description of those other alleged ‘stalkers’.”[/color]

	“Are you [b]sure[/b] this is a good idea?”  Felecia asked, concerned that I was going to do something stupid.

	[color=b22222]“Relax.  I’m a metahuman. Remember?  If he gets frisky, I’ll just kick is ass.”[/color]  Therefore, I unlocked the front door and pulled it open.  Even if I didn’t want to open up our front door, I was going to have to leave out of that same entrance so that I could go to work.  Might as well get it over with.

	[color=b22222]“May I help you?[/color]  I asked the man who had knocked on the door.

	[color=0072bc]"Hello SpideHOLY CRAP!"[/color] The man said, wide-eyed as soon as I opened the door.  He barely made eye-contact with me before his eyes darted down below my neckline.  [color=0072bc]"Looks like the rumors were true, puberty came back with a vengeance for you, didn't it?  You're certainly sporting more of a counterweight in the ah...chest area then when I met you in the sewers."[/color]

	OH GOD. OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD!  It would be bad enough that this man was undressing me with his eyes.  But no!  He almost called me Spider-Girl and he mentioned meeting me in the sewers.  That means this must be that one guy who helped me with the demonic snake back in Lost Haven when that city was being invaded by ‘demons’.  I knew something seemed familiar!  How the hell did he find me?  And what the hell did he mean by “the rumors were true”?

	While I was being flustered by this situation, that man tried to enter into our apartment.  Luckily, I noticed in time and slammed the door shut, turning both of the locks that were attached to the door.  I then pressed my back against the door, facing towards Felecia.

	“Stalker?”  She asked.  The expression on her face revealed that she was concerned about the situation.  She did tell me not to open the door, but I didn’t listen.  However, something tells me that this guy would probably not just leave without getting a response.

	I shook my head as my initial response to Felecia’s question.  [color=b22222]“Well, I have good news and bad news.  The bad news is it appears that someone other than us knows that I’m not a normal person.  The good news is that the guy standing on the other side of the door is not a supervillain.”[/color]

	“How could this happen?”  Felecia had her hands pressed against the top of her head.  She looked a little worried at the potential of superhuman people knowing who I was and where I lived.

	[color=b22222]“I don’t know?  It’s not like I’m like Christian Bale or Andrew Garfield where I take off my mask at everyone opportunity I have!”[/color]

	Then a thought hit me.  Back on D-Day, after that guy, who is currently outside my door and I cannot for the life of me remember his name, helped me in the sewers, I ran into that wannabe Ironman and that woman who was with him.  That woman who trapped me in that electrified net.  She said that she knew who is was!  That bitch!  Did she compromise my identity?  In my raged state, I swung myself around without saying another word to my roommate and unlocked the door.  Then, I throw open the door and found that man still standing there.

	[color=b22222]“WHO THE HELL TOLD YOU WHO I WAS AND WHERE I LIVED!”[/color]