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[center][sub][indent][COLOR=FFD700][B]Manhattan, New York City[/B][/color] [color=4682B4]|[/color] [COLOR=FFD700][b]Present Day[/b][/color][/indent][indent][hr][sup][b][color=FFD700]Chapter One[/color][/b] [color=4682B4]|[/color] [b][color=FFD700]Part One[/color][/b][/sup][/indent][/sub][/center]
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The boy pulled his ratty, orange hoodie closer to himself, the material scarred with countless holes and tears. His bright emerald eyes darting from one passing figure to the next while walking along the streets of New York. It had been many months since Garfield Logan trekked these paths in the open during broad daylight, and each person shuffling closely by caused Garfield to lower his head, hands buried within slightly-torn pockets, as he prayed none would notice his abnormalities. 

The man walking just ahead of Garfield turned around to offer a brief, warm smile at the young teen. "It's not much farther," he reassured.

Garfield wanted to return the smile, to show the man just how grateful he was, but the fear of being seen by wandering eyes kept his head lowered. 

Charlie Hustle had approached Garfield a week before. The twenty-something-year-old had come across the orphaned youth while the latter had been rummaging for food in a dumpster. Charlie had shown no sign of fear or discomfort at witnessing the green-skinned boy. He had spat out zero mutant hate speech, nor even flinched when Garfield's metahuman powers were displayed in an instinctive reaction to being discovered. Instead, Charlie had sat down in the middle of the grimy alleyway and offered what little was left of his Big Belly Burger meal. 

After that, for six days, twice a day, Charlie came to meet Garfield at that spot, bringing fresh food for the boy. Trust between the two was established fairly quickly, and a friendship of sorts was formed. So when Charlie had brought dinner for him the previous night and offered to provide him with a place to stay, Garfield had jumped at the opportunity. No one had shown him such kindness in over a year, and with Charlie being so comfortable around mutants, Garfield had thought that maybe things were turning around.

He just wished Charlie had waited until night to escort him to his new home. 

[i]Pay no attention to the boy in the hoodie,[/i] Garfield thought as a man in a suit and tie narrowly avoided knocking into him. [i]Nothing to see here, folks. No freak show today. And hopefully after today, no freak show ever again. No way I'm ever going outside again if I can help it.[/i]

The various individuals surrounding Garfield began to dwindle as they neared their destination. Charlie led his young friend through several side streets, and soon enough they were alone.

"You can take that off now, you know." Charlie flashed another of his charismatic smiles.

Garfield quickly looked around. They stood in a wide alley, flanked by two buildings with darkened windows. There was no one here to see him, but he still hesitated to lower his hood. 

Charlie spoke up again, doing his best to reassure his friend. "Really, you're safe here. I took this route because no one's ever really here until late at night. I felt bad that you had to hide yourself, and I want you to be comfortable." 

This time, Garfield did smile back as he reached up to pull the hood off, revealing his disheveled, dark hair, desperately in need of maintenance. "Thanks, Charlie," he told his benefactor. "You have no idea how much I appreciate this. You're kind of saving my life here."

Charlie shook his head, laughing in modest humility. "Don't be silly, I'm just doing what's right. Every day people in this city are struggling. I used to be one of them. But now I'm in a position to do some good. And one day you'll be better off and in a position to pay it forward to someone else who needs help." 

Garfield smiled wider at that. Charlie had a way of saying the perfect thing at just the right time to make him feel better. He could already feel himself opening up and relaxing. For the dozenth time that day, Garfield considered himself unbelievably lucky to have met someone as incredible and charitable as Charlie.

"So," the teen said, glancing around once more. "Where's this place you told me about?"

"Just around this corner. It's not much, truthfully, but I think you'll like it. At the very least you can shower. In fact," the young man paused, dramatically sniffing the air for effect, "I think I have to insist that you shower."

Chuckling, Garfield followed Charlie around the bend. "Dude, are you telling me I stink? Come on! I'll have you know the skunk I shared the dumpster with told me I smell amazing and that-"

His words caught in his throat as he felt a sharp sting in the side of his neck. 

[i]Did I just get stung by a bee?[/i] Garfield managed to wonder before collapsing to the ground. 

His eyes fluttered, suddenly heavy, struggling to stay open. His arms felt like wet noodles, unable to pick himself back up, and the edges of his vision began to darken.

"Fucking Hell, man, that kid was obnoxious. You took your sweet time taking him out, I swear if I had to hear one more of his lame fucking jokes..." It was difficult to make out through the buzzing in his head, but Garfield recognized that voice. Though, Charlie's once honey-dipped words were now marred with crude vulgarity. 

A second, mystery voice joined in. "Drop it. You did your job, you'll get paid. No more complaining."

Then, as the last vestiges of consciousness escaped him, Garfield thought he could make out one final, distant voice. 

[Sub]"Hey! Hey, you! Get away from him!"[/sub]
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