The League were happy enough with the mission results. No fatalities, and an acceptable amount of injuries. We weren't called in for a debriefing. They had footage of the pair of us entering and exiting the building together, which had been circulating the web overnight. Paired with the brief shots of us outside the coffee shop, it was enough to get the rumors flowing.

  Seemed rather arbitrary to me. But I understood the League’s thought process, even if I didn’t necessarily care for it.

  Now that I sat in front of a large mirror, while some assistant pretended I needed stage makeup, I wondered if the clause in my contract had been worth it. Unfortunately, it was. If not for my insistence, they might not have validated our relationship publicly. I no longer wanted my life covered in shadows, so this all was necessary.

  Something Roxy was currently contending with as well, given the warmth I could feel coming from her. There had been some minor argument over how much makeup she had to wear, and if it was heat resistant enough. I had mostly tuned it out, as I tried to focus on what we had to do here.

  The night after the mission had been spent going over rehearsed lines. This morning was more of the same. Talking it over and over again seemed to keep the super grounded, and even Clara avoided needling Roxy with annoyances. Stress levels were medium, but they seemed to cool once we arrived at the studio. We weren’t live - but there was an audience. It allowed us some leeway to be imperfect, but we’d need to be mindful of keeping the crowd on our side.

  It was a fluff piece, after all. Stacy was here to manage us and had delivered a cold dollop of advice into our overheating brains.

  The host of The Power of Love was Leyla Ann. Previously a socialite starlet that had landed this hosting gig almost a decade ago. The experience had given her a sharp edge, even if she played up the ditsy blonde act still. Catty and not afraid to bite back if she could see an advantage.

  At the end of the day, the League put us here for positive news generation. Leyla knew this and would push that boat out as much as she could, but her own motives were slightly more basic - even if similar. Gossip. While she wouldn’t be an antagonistic host, she would definitely try to drum up enough engagement to make it worth having us on. It was all about the views, for both sides.

  I was starting to think I preferred situations I could solve with my gun-arm, but I had thanked Stacy for the information all the same. As much as this could be a career defining moment, there was something else that had been nagging at the back of my mind.

  This whole thing was set up by one of the Directors who was hoping I’d fail. If they had done any homework, then they’d know a simple speech encounter was something I’d roll out of smelling of roses. Either they were deluded in thinking I was a half-brained thug, or I was about to learn a lesson on how much League politics sucked.

  “Five minutes and you’re on,” another assistant called to us both.

  Roxy reached out and gave my gun-arm a squeeze. “Feeling good, Dubs?”

  I nodded, glad that we had to wear our full hero outfits. There would be a point where I could wear ‘casual’ clothing to these sorts of things, but so close to our reveal and rebrand, the League wanted us to make a showing of who we were. Who the public had to see.

  [Never better. My figurative tongue is my secret weapon.]

  She exhaled through her nose and smiled. “Good. This is a bit of an intense first public speaking appearance for you, but I trust that you—out of everyone I know—will remain calm and in control when pressed.”

  A statement that would have been more comforting if she wasn’t still gripping onto my arm like I might make a bolt from the studio. I could see in her eyes that it was something she had been considering. Mostly, I was just impressed she could be that panicked yet still control her strength enough to not crush my shotgun. Another point toward her experience and competence.

  [Let’s go break a leg.]

  We had been advised to remain cordial and play down any attempts to rile us up. Easy to say, and I believed we could ride out any jabs. Both of us had a bit of a temper under the right circumstances. How interesting it was that the League made us feel like we were on the back foot in these situations, when we were essentially living nukes compared to everyone around us.

  A stagehand led us to a large curtain. It all felt somewhat surreal compared to how I lived only a few months ago. Roxy gave me a nervous smile as we waited. Leyla was introducing the show, her muffled voice followed by the hum of the audience clapping.

  “Alright, you’re on. Big smiles.” The curtain was drawn to the side.

  Bright lights bathed me as we took up our roles in the act. While I walked, I tried to take everything in - even as the rapturous applause flooded my senses.

  The set itself was a pair of near-white couches at angles to each other. A light red carpet covered the floor a short step up from our current level, which was smooth and black. The large overhead lights illuminated both the seating arrangement, as well as the backdrop - a tall heart shape embossed on the brick wall with the show's name plastered across it.

  Our host for this suddenly very real event was already seated, a wide smile almost as gleaming as her platinum blonde hair. She wore a soft pink dress that matched well with the heart-shaped cushions on both the couches. No doubt she had done this hundreds of times, so it was no surprise to see how comfortable and at-home she was.

  I turned my head and waved to the audience, mirroring what the super was doing. Roxy was also much more experience in this sort of thing, although she usually approached publicity with grimaces and reluctance.

  By the time we stepped up and made it to the seats, the clamoring died down, and Leyla took the reins.

  “Rockslide, Gunquake, thank you for coming on today,” she began.

  Roxy smiled as she sat down. “Thank you for having us.”

  [Indeed, it is a pleasure.]

  I sat myself down on the couch beside the super. The heat from all the lighting in here was making me feel warm already, as well as being half blinded. Maybe physical discomfort was a part of tenderizing us for the main course.

  “Ooh, I have not heard your vocalizer before, Gunquake - which is surprising given how much I have been trying to dig up about you two.” She smiled and tilted her head. “Difficult, as up until recently you were something of an unknown.”

  [Very true. It’s fair to say I’m not someone accustomed to the limelight.]

  “And yet here you are, talk of the city as one of the most promising new heroes to sign up with the League. Not only are you part of the exciting rebrand of Rockslide’s super group, but the little birds over the net have been chirping about the two of you being more than just team mates.”

  “It’s true,” Roxy said. “While we’ve been trying to keep it discreet, now that Gunquake is officially a hero, it’s been difficult not to be seen together.”

  Leyla grinned at the crowd, giving them an exaggerated wink. “My little birdies have eyes everywhere, unfortunately. Gunquake, you’ve been making waves recently for your very brazen approach to heroism, with some saying that you act more like a reckless vigilante. What do you have to say to your detractors?”

  [In truth, I have a history of vigilantism. I’ve always had a lot of love for Goldarch, but taking things into my own hand was the wrong way to do things. I’m lucky that the League of Heroes have decided to nurture that passion into something more legitimate.]

  “Well, we do love a bit of passion here at the Power of Love.” She continued smiling. “So current events might just be teething issues as you settle into the hero the League wants you to be?”

  I hadn’t been expecting a grilling over my career from the outset. It was almost enough to make me wonder if the questions were genuine or being fed to her by the Directors who didn’t like me. Either way, I was speaking for the benefit of the crowd here.

  [I’m unlikely to change my methods or discard the things I feel are important to me.]

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  Roxy put her hand on my arm. “Gunquake is very steadfast in his convictions.”

  “So I can see.” The host raised her eyebrows at the audience. “Does that mean we’re likely to hear about more of your anti-bullying exploits?”

  [I hope not. While taking guns and criminals off the streets is my bread and butter, I like to think there is a broader change to be made where we can all be better. When I see my friends disparaged after all the work they do for the city, I feel that is an injustice.]

  “Wow.” Leyla fanned her face with some cue cards she had been holding. “A man who can talk the talk and walk it. Rockslide, how did you two end up meeting, as historically Gunquake isn’t your type.”

  I could feel the super tense up. The ease with which she had planned to slide into our rehearsed lines about our time of meeting halted briefly with the sly stab at her history. A low blow, but she recovered without breaking her smile.

  “We were actually after the same mob boss, and met up that way. At first, things were pretty heated, but I think it was that competitive spirit that drew us together.”

  “A chance meeting. How sweet.” The crowd ahh’d in response. “In terms of competitiveness, do either of you ever feel as though your respective powers get in the way of having a normal relationship?”

  Roxy shot me a glance, and I gave her a nod to go first.

  “Not really. I think to some degree—super or not—every relationship is different and has various challenges to overcome to make work. You have to do what works for the both of you.”

  [Exactly. If anything, our powers are just another facet that we have to help better each other. We strive to be the best we can be, both as partners, and as heroes for the city.]

  Leyla nodded. “Do you ever feel intimidated, Gunquake? Rockslide is one of the strongest superheroes in Goldarch.”

  [Not at all. Plus, it’s only a matter of time before she is the strongest.]

  The crowd liked that. I could see the bait the host was laying out, but that was easy enough to brush away.

  “Gunquake can definitely hold his own,” Roxy added. “His strength was one of the reasons I fell for him, of course. Oh, and his eyes.”

  “You’re hiding some nice eyes under there?” Leyla gasped. “Any chance we could see them?”

  [I’m afraid I only have eyes for Rockslide.]

  The host turned a pout towards the cameras, and the crowd reacted with a loud aww. I decided that—despite my charismatic background—I was not a fan of having an audience to appeal to. While violence wasn’t an answer to all these innocents staring at me, my grapple hook could take me… nowhere productive at present. Shame.

  “So,” Leyla begun, turning back to us. “I hear you are living together already. We love that sort of commitment here at the Power of Love, even if it is quick. Do we need to worry about the patter of tiny super feet in the near future?”

  “No,” Roxy said, almost grimacing. “Gunquake and I are…”

  [Focused more on our careers at present. I did recently become a cat-dad, which has been surprisingly fulfilling.]

  “A cat-dad? I think you may have struck gold this time, Rockslide.” The host raised her eyebrows and leaned forward. “I’m really pleased that things are working out for you.”

  “Thank you.” Roxy looked at me, the stage-smile softening into something more genuine. “It’s been quite a whirlwind, but it’s like when you know… you just know.”

  I maintained eye contact with the super while the crowd did something or other. For as much as this had been a League-set up to garner favor for the two of us, this here—right now—was Roxy and I being validated in front of the city. Together and in love. For a moment, I was lost in her fiery eyes.

  “That is so beautiful. Here at the Power of Love, we were saddened the last time your name was talk of the city, Rockslide. Unfortunately, we were unable to get you on the show back then, but is there anything you wanted to say to settle that all today?”

  There it was. The biggest dig for drama that we had been expecting. I could see Roxy wince slightly as the question struck a nerve. Even with prep, we both knew this would be the more difficult stab to dodge from. Ironic considering we breezed past me being a murder-hungry vigilante unhindered by the League for years.

  “I consider it the past,” Roxy said, gathering up her diplomatic energy. “Things were said and mistakes were made, but I’ve moved on and I don’t think anyone is keen to dredge it up again.”

  “You’re not entirely correct there, Rockslide. Here on the Power of Love, we have an exclusive special guest that you’ll be familiar with. Everyone, please welcome out…”

  Then she said his name. Whoever had set this up had played us both like fiddles. Roxy shot me a panicked loot, barely holding onto her composure. I was lucky to have no facial features showing.

  “…the Maestro!”

  Henrick Karajan, aka the Maestro. The first time that I had heard his name spoken out loud. His powers revolved around crowd control and object manipulation. Ironic, given our situation.

  A stagehand brought over a chair to a place near our coach, and the man himself walked out. Hand waving to the crowd and a wide grin on his face.

  I flipped a coin in my head. Tails and I’d kill him right now.

  Hmm. Five times in a row, all heads. I’d have to go with plan B.

  “Thank you for having me on,” he said as he sat down, adjusting the flair of his long sleeves. “Such an honor to be here once more, under hopefully better circumstances.”

  “Of course,” Leyla said, giving him a nod. “I don’t believe you and Gunquake have met each other before?”

  I turned in my chair to face him and held out my gun-arm for him to shake.

  [Pleasure. How is retirement treating you?]

  He gripped the end of the barrel awkwardly and shook it. “Ah? I’m not retired.”

  [Apologies. I had not heard of you outside of the context of being in the past, so assumed you were no longer relevant. In terms of actively working for the League, I mean.]

  There were a few chuckles and other assorted reactions from the audience for my forward sass. I had agreed to play nice with the host, but the ambush had me edging closer to bad-Dubs territory.

  “You are mistaken, friend.” His smile was lackluster. Closer to a sneer. “We can’t all be attention-seeking loose cannons.”

  I made the show of looking around the studio before tilting my head at him and his unexpected appearance.

  [Are we sure of that?]

  “Alright, enough saber rattling, gentlemen.” Leyla shook her head. “Maestro has come here as he has something to say to Rockslide.”

  Roxy had been silent through this, her natural desire to put her foot in her mouth clearly wanting to burst out and demand to know why this was happening. Even as her eyes bulged out of her head, she nodded politely. “Okay?”

  Maestro cleared his throat. “I feel like we parted ways under such a dark cloud. While many things were said on both sides, we never really cleared the air. So, I wish to apologize to you. I’m sorry.”

  “Okay?” she repeated, her voice terse as if she was about to explode like a… well, it went without saying.

  Silence hung in the air for a moment, and I realized what this was leading to. He wanted her to apologize back to him. Once again, he was inserting himself into the picture and digging up old corpses to get news and attention. Getting an apology from her would validate all the bullshit he had put her through, as well as get the public refreshed on all of that long buried history right when we were putting ourselves out there.

  I wondered if that was enough to class him as a villain.

  “Is there anything you’d like to say in return, Rockslide?” The host prompted the super, but Roxy was basically paralyzed with indecision.

  The bad blood between them after he lied about how their relationship ended had been enough to almost turn her rogue. Now that she was back up at the top of the ladder, he had shown up again to make things difficult. I struggled to think of a way to interject that didn’t come off as aggressive or was literal violence.

  “Not really.” Roxy gave a shrug. “I’m honestly worried about you. It’s been eating you up this whole time? That’s not healthy.”

  “You don’t want to clear the air?” he asked. His expression was wavering, the original pomp of his entrance deflating as the wind was slowly taken from his sails.

  “It’s been cleared through the passage of time. It dissipated. I’m sorry if you’re still hung up on the past, but that’s something you have to work through yourself.”

  Maestro didn’t look too great. This is why research was important. Roxy was no longer the same hothead that he had broken up with, and had clearly matured past his level. Instead of the spark of anger burning up within me, the warmth of pride over how the super responded to him just made me love her all that more.

  Before he could speak, the host butted in.

  “Rockslide is right. She doesn’t owe you closure at this stage. As much as the olive branch is welcomed, it’s a few years too late.” Leyla gave him a glum smile. “The sooner you accept that, the quicker you can move on and find happiness, just like she has.”

  Ah, the reverse ambush. Leyla was smart and experienced. In seeing that the Maestro’s plan had immediately backfired, she had switched sides to back us up. Now the hero looked like the biggest ass in the district, appearing during our fluff piece to stir and failing miserably.

  Not quite a kick in the balls, but I’d take it.

  He smiled, but it looked more like a grimace. The desire to high-road us was evident with how he hesitated to reply, but he was running out of options. I could even feel the tension around the studio, waiting for him to pop and break bad.

  [For a moment, I was worried you were going to challenge me to a duel for Rockslide’s hand.]

  The crowd laughed, flattening his rising attempt to snap back. He looked like the sort of guy who hated to be the butt of a joke. Also probably held grudges.

  His hands were clenching, almost fists. “I wouldn’t debase myself to punch down at a lower-ranked hero. I’m no loose cannon.”

  Roxy snorted. “Okay, not to encourage the saber rattling, but Gunquake would run circles around you.”

  The crowd ooh’d, some excitement building.

  Maestro sneered again, clearly at a loss when keeping his composure at this stage. “Oh really? How about you put your money where your mouth is, then?”

  I tilted my head and tapped at my re-breather with my index finger.

  [You might be out of luck there.]

  More laughter, which just caused him to grind his teeth. “There are openings at the Heroism Arena this coming week. If you are so confident in your boyfriend’s abilities, why not sign him up?”

  I hadn’t noticed that he was actually talking past me, directly to Roxy. As if I was an accessory that didn’t matter. Or perhaps he was scared of actually challenging me face-to-face.

  “If he wants to, he can. What are the stakes? If he wins…?”

  Maestro pulled a face, but some of the smarm had returned. “I have a sponsorship nearing its renewal. If Gunquake wins, I will hand it over to him.”

  [What is it that you want if I lose?]

  “I want to be a part of Natural Disasters.”

  Maybe I should learn what the Heroism Arena actually was, or get the League’s permission for all of this. Surely they had final say. We were saying a lot of words that didn’t make much sense, but were held aloft by the thick tension in the studio.

  All I knew was that I had an annoying thorn in my side offering me money to kick his ass.

  I smiled internally and held my left hand out for him to shake.

  [You’ve got yourself a deal.]