The smell of city water and its slightly acrid treated chemicals filled the bathroom, along with steam as the stupid lyrics of the song echoed around the cheap tile. A melodic voice reached down into the deeper range of their vocals, slightly off-key as they stooped for an octave not suited for them; though it was certainly suited for the shower.

  Psyis didn't care about her volume as she belted out along with the pop idol Jamie Torch. Repeating the painfully repetitious chorus of Yea's and Uhn's as her radio crackled, its signal spotty. Giving a little wiggle as the water ran down her skin washing both the soap and embarrassment away, blue patterns shrinking to reveal purple.

  The alien growing more confident in her off-key rendition of the latest pop hit. Incredibly glad that she unlike any of her neighbors could soundproof her apartment with her telekinetic shielding. Holding the bottle of body wash up imitating a microphone, Psyis accidentally sang a bit too enthusiastically and breathed in some of the suds along her sides that hadn't yet rinsed clean. A soft drawn-out cry of 'nooo' filled the bathroom instead.

  The odd taste of what was supposed to smell like strawberry-kiwi body wash swamped into her gills as they'd opened to let her hold that note as long as Torch had. Now she was paying the price for her shower karaoke; Psyis quickly reached outside the curtain to grab a clean cloth while she coughed deep in her chest a few times. The alien watched as a few little puffs of suds floated out from just the slits she could see under the sides of her breasts, frowning as she caught one.

  Blowing bubbles like this wasn't nearly as funny as it had been when she was seven, splashing around in the tub at the Kerzen's Farmstead and giving Mama Kerzen a conniption.

  Psyis busily wipe at the thin slits that marked the breathing vents on the sides of her chest trying to remove the bubbles that were wafting the harsh smell back up through her nose. Finally breaking down she reached for the spray nozzle, that frown deepening on her purple lips.

  The now adult woman didn't like this part of accidentally messing up her bath time any more than she had as a child and felt like throwing a similar tantrum as she had then. Still she raised her arm and went to work, the feeling of water spraying through the membranes gave her no small amount of not-quite-ticklish discomfort.

  Psyis was glad that the taste and smell would vanish after they'd dried, the separate breathing organs not exactly designed for submerged water in the first place.

  Her enthusiasm for relaxing in the shower was now immediately taken away she quickly finished scrubbing up. Though much more carefully this time wanting to avoid any further mishaps as soap in the eyes sucked regardless of species; the thessian hurried, washing and conditioning the long white Mohawk she'd grown out.

  Running her fingers along the smooth sides of her head, feeling for any spots that'd need to be buzzed again, Psyis wanted to ensure that at least her hair remained wild and independent.

  Satisfied with her appearance and finally clean, Psyis quickly turned off the water and snatched the towel from the rack on the wall. Throwing the shower curtain back with a vengeance as the evil cold of a cheap apartment threatened to steal all the warmth she'd trapped inside with her. Dabbing at herself with the soft fluffiness as goosebumps ran along her blue stripes.

  Psyis removed the now ice-like droplets with the warm towel, drying before carefully holding it over the side of the tub and stepping onto the bit that had curled on the floor; scooting her feet about before drying them as well. Getting a bathroom rug so she didn't have to stand on the freezing tiles had come second to owning multiple sets of these particularly fluffy towels.

  Turning she threw the towel over the shower rod before sprinting to her room to change, the cold catching her before she'd even made it a step.

  Slamming her bedroom door closed Psyis grabbed her hoodie and quickly slipped it on, not even bothering with the bra she'd laid out before snagging the bovine-patterned pajama bottoms Jack had gotten her last Christmas.

  The words "Moo Moo' were distributed across each cheek of the milk-cow patterned bottoms; they were at least super fluffy and warm, even if they were mortifying to wear. Her adoptive brother of sorts getting her the most comfortably uncomfortable pajama bottoms she'd ever admit to owning.

  Psyis still refused to pull the matching top out from her drawer, the gag gift was just a bit too uncomfortable to wear as a set, seeing as they'd printed 'Milk Me' in a similarly inappropriate spot.

  Heading to the kitchen she recalled how her adoptive mother, Barb Kerzen, had just so happened to decide that was the absolute last year she was letting any of the older kids do gag gifts. Especially seeing as none of the farm-raised children present had needed an explanation on just what the pun was as they'd done the actual chore themselves.

  The older woman nearly died of shame as more than one child turned to their parents now asking the most awkward questions possible. Starting with whether or not their off-world two-toned cousin was milk-able at all. The purpose of the thessian's mammalian additions came into question with no one having any G-rated answers easily available for the tikes present.

  All while Jack was rolling on the floor trying not to accidentally laser anyone; the young zexxian laughed so hard he'd almost lost control of his heat vision.

  James and Leona simply stood there looking every bit like the city parents who'd let their child bring the world's troubles to the farm in a completely different manner than usual. It tended to be something more explosive and less explicit that came following Radiation Lad home.

  Leona looked like she was leading a press conference gone wrong, mouth moving with no answers available. His father James only trying to look disapproving as he'd had to stifle a giggle of his own.

  Psyis tried not to think about how life had felt during those moments; the wonderfully tense perfection of a home packed to the brim with life and enjoyment. Simply leaving the memory of how Mama Kerzen had dragged James and Leona off behind. Abandoning it in her much emptier and more lonesome Centropolis kitchen.

  This wasn't the Kerzen's farmhouse obviously and thinking back on home like a child wouldn't help her move on with life. Hell, the tea wasn't even as good when she made it here.

  Stepping out onto the balcony Psyis let the cool November air wrap its fingers under the hem of her pajama pants as its other hand grabbed a fistful of steam from her cup. The Thessian glanced around the narrow alley that her balcony let out onto. It didn't offer much of a view, the area was only a convenient side-benefit of needing to meet the code for having a fire escape.

  Still, since she'd moved here a few months ago the Centropolis Angel had found one lovely thing about her cheap apartment; it came with free music.

  The volume might be lacking but she'd fixed that; what was better was it seemed like every song was an original and full of emotions. Written with some of the most vivid lyrics she'd ever heard and touched with feelings that dug deeper than any of the radio's tripe. Those songs and that voice had turned into the shining if small silver lining in the dark cloud of decisions that'd lead to her living here.

  Psyis reached out and found him once more, a striped hand pulled at the string that was attached to the bag idly while she blew November's chilly hands off her mug while she lifted those notes over the streets chatter. Closing her eyes and swaying with the lyrics the wind had twisted the Thessian took a sip of her tea, glancing out at the world she'd come to love.

  She wasn't a native of Earth, but still managed to grow up stateside after being discovered by Radiation Man, otherwise known as James Kerzen while drifting as an infant. Found abandoned or misplaced by the psychic disturbance that had warped every other living Thessian in the universe away.

  Psyis had struggled to not only understand the world she'd arrived on, she'd had difficulty with her powers as well. Thankfully she'd had the Kerzen family, especially Barb Kerzen to help her acclimate to this new world as the only surviving member of her species. The doting if daunting cowgirl had taken to raising Psyis as if she'd been born for the task.

  It probably helped that the elderly Kansas woman already had run that particular gauntlet with her adoptive son and the handful of off-world miscreants he'd managed to drag home since his first Zexxian pup. Life from there had been full, both with its high moments like the day she'd finally been promoted from the Junior League of Planetary Saviors to its lows.

  One of which was the reason she was currently standing on the rented narrow balcony rimmed in cheap black painted steel: Steven Caulder.

  Just the thought of him crossing her mind caused Psyis to feel some disconnect with the new song below, turning back she opened the door once more deciding she'd make some lunch. Content to return to the balcony when the songs fit her mood a bit better, she was no longer interested in listening to the soulful drawl echoing below.

  Psyis sipped at the bitter infusion of leaves in her cup as she looked back on her choices and headed towards her refrigerator.

  The thessian not feeling any of the same desires the singer did for their lost love; she knew, looking back there had been signs that she'd ignored. Growing pains in the relationship that she'd allowed to turn into more, that or she could not just accept the reality of who she'd allowed into her life. There wasn't ever going to be that depth she'd wanted in that relationship, thinking she'd been swept away by a dynamic complex man.

  Wanting to soak into who Steven was had been a shallow puddle compared to the dive she'd expected. Now dealing with the misbegotten expectations on what her love had been as it crashed into the reality of who Steven was; entirely one-dimensional.

  Even her skin still reflected her indecisive complicated emotions on the issue, her pattern swimming like waves as it rolled between dominating colors of purple or blue. Ignoring her changing colors Psyis instead sat her mug on the counter, opening the fridge so she could see just what leftovers she'd be trying to make edible today.

  Finding several boxes the quickly administered sniff test had demanded she trash the idea quite literally. Quickly grabbing the other three with similar but slightly more worn-looking logos she immediately walked over to the trash and pitched them. At first lazy enough to consider the leftovers, grabbing a simple fried rice and throwing it in the microwave, Psyis now had to find another option.

  "I'll order something," Psyis explained to the nobody who was listening as she shook her head in disappointment; the food choices felt like an accurate representation of her life right now: a thing she'd sat down half-finished. Now just to let rot and fester instead of trying to replace or move on from, staying stuck just like she was in this apartment: by choice.

  Psyis looked at her phone trying to convince herself that she just didn't want to brave the chill outside of her apartment to get actual groceries and wasn't postponing the inevitable. Besides she was paying to rent the damned place with nearly all of the left-over income earned from being a heroine so spending as much time ensured she got her money's worth.

  This was the more childish of the adult choices she'd allow herself at this moment and only a minor expense in comparison to the dignity she'd sacrifice if she crawled back to Steven so soon.

  Seeing as she'd left the relationship, Steven had also stopped 'helping' her financially, not that he'd been helping in the first place. It was incredibly hard to ever try living alone and learning to budget when your then-boyfriend would just pay your rent for the year or buy your entire apartment building. Not that the underpaid and overworked heroine had wanted access to the Caulder's fortune in the first place.

  Psyis had even told her mom that she'd needed to make it on her own as a human in this world and wanted to live a life outside of the cape; the old woman had just smirked as if Psyis had been crazy.

  Psyis sighed slightly as she pulled the worn Sumsang across the counter, tapping at the cracked screen a few times before it responded. Scrolling through her contacts towards the familiar sub-shop, ignoring the slight twinge that came to mind as she idly noted the absence of Steven's name among the 'S's.

  The alien took some minor comfort that that little psychological tick over her ex had never reached her heart even after all the times they'd done this. It wasn't jealousy, pain, or anything emotionally driven. It felt as oddly and irrationally natural as the need she was about to satisfy right now; the phone in her hand beginning to ring the familiar delivery place.

  "Two usuals?" A familiar voice answered. The phone to the shop clicked with its usual prompt familiarity the person answering not even bothering to ask as the caller-ID had already tracked her rampant laziness.

  Psyis took it as a blessing and not a sign that she was slacking off in her desires to be independent and self-reliant; she was relying on herself to call the sub-shop after all!

  "You know it, Mr. P," Psyis giggled a bit as she heard the boy answer the phone. Quickly adding something to the order while she casually filled her friend in on her plans, "Extra mushrooms and mozzarella please, I'm starving and going out of town to Voltham later tonight."

  "You got it, Miss P," The slightly off-toned voice came back as it cracked slightly with youthful nervous flirtation, the delivery boy obviously smitten with this back and forth he shared with his celebrity regular. "Free of charge of course, anything for the Angel of Centropolis!"

  "Thanks, Phil," Psyis brushed her hair out of her face as she dropped her head and disconnected the call. Hanging it slightly in embarrassment at the almost couple's like nicknames; even more at the slight shame that suddenly dropped on her on why that familiarity had developed.

  The idea of spending the extra five dollars for the extra toppings already weighed on her, now oddly heavier than the burden of saving lives in some ways. The young boy who often delivered her sandwiches waving the fee more often than not hadn't been the only reason she'd called, it'd certainly been worth rolling the dice, however.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  The kid was sweet, but puberty had Phil firmly convinced he was her diamond in the rough. Especially now that Jamestone's tabloids had spilled the news about her and Steven. Not that she'd intentionally advantaged that, but it was a little tidbit she'd stored away about the delivery boy. Just like Jamestone had stored away her name just so he could take a cheap shot at Web-Slinger in N.Y.C. she'd tried to rebound with a few months back.

  Tyler Tanner had been sweet enough and hadn't deserved the run-around relationship she'd offered, especially as that was all the poor guy got from anyone, ever. Psyis briefly considered calling the ex-turned-friend just to see how he was doing, Tyler always being good for a laugh if you needed someone to improve your mood.

  Instead, she decided to walk back out to her balcony to see if the random shuffle of life had put something a little more enjoyable on.

  Psyis stood in the chill, listening once more as different lower voice filled the alley, echoing through the tight corners with the reverb of accompanying instruments. Blinking for a moment as her ears tried to recognize the song, another original that'd never been played on any station she'd heard, finally realizing that the lyrics weren't even English.

  Whoever was singing was incredibly fluent as they rapped French. Nodding her head along to the stomping rhythm and twanging guitar as the voice from earlier returned to provide an understandable chorus, she smiled as she lifted his tones once more.

  She considered as she had on the many days before, about making her way and venturing down into the little shopping square to see just who was providing the free live music. Once again, just like every time before deciding against it; there was always that minor something that simply made the walk down not worth it.

  Today it was the fact there was a delivery on the way. Sure it might take Phil nearly thirty minutes to get here but he was going to arrive nonetheless. Twenty-five of those spent just to make sure his little red frock of curls was poofed just the way he thought she liked.

  There was always something that kept her away, a lazy reason to excuse her from making that choice to go and see.

  Leaving the balcony open to let that voice inside so she could grab the cup of tea she'd left on her the counter. Psyis snatched the stupid 'I <3 Centropolis' mug from the little island that split the shared all-in-one kitchen, dining, and living room of her little apartment. Psyis privately enjoyed that music; quietly inviting that voice in, to influence and color her life.

  Returning to her balcony and sitting in the cheap plastic chair she'd sat outside, glancing over at the empty one next to her. A smile more bitter than the tea in her hand crossed her face as she considered how it'd sat empty and always would. Deep inside she knew somehow that neither Phil, Tyler, nor any other would ever fill that void that'd been left behind by losing her entire species.

  All she could ever do was find a human stand-in, someone who would hopefully manage their end of the psychic pressures that came with her. It'd always be Steven in the end; Psyis sitting back and looking away as the man once again haunted her mind unbidden as if by fate. It was painful to admit but they had been inexplicably drawn back to each other since their younger days.

  She could blame it on the missions and time they'd shared but really, it was something like an addiction. Just without the need on her end, without him, things just began to take on the feeling that they were wrong. Psyis had never missed Steven in the true sense, so much as she had been inflicted with the knowledge of his absence.

  She knew that the options were to settle for a human equivalent or a lifetime of loneliness. If that was the case, then she'd stay with what she knew and the one who knew her best. As horrible as that sounded it was just the more comfortable offer, one she'd accept in a few more years.

  Hopefully, by then, Steven would have matured to some degree, finally settling down to at least play at being an adult like his adoptive father Stan. Psyis reminded herself that it wasn't entirely Steven's fault he'd not taken well to the affluent upbringing as a younger teen. Anger, angst, and the expansive bank account had enabled the growing adult to fully immerse himself in the nuevo-riche lifestyle with old money resources.

  The Thessian once again glanced at that cheap chair beside her thinking on how much more comfortable it'd be to settle back on that posh balcony in Voltham.

  At the same time, she also had a firm grasp on just how uncomfortable that balcony and lifestyle had made her at the same time. The way Steven seemed to unconsciously accept that vast disconnect between 'Steven' and who he was inside: Dark Squire. If he'd just been an ignorant rich kid maybe she'd have never realized the two very different personas she was trying to accept into her life.

  Dark Squire was always going to be Dark Squire though, no matter what outfit or face he was wearing there would always be the 'mission'.

  Stan had at least managed to temper his issues by reigning them back under the guise of justice. Steven though would never turn off, the missions never stopped whereas justice could have its day. Closing her eyes tightly as she considered just what his mission was, controlling the idea of them. Steven used whatever misbegotten logic or excuse he could to keep her wrapped in his intentions to realize his idealized view of living the heroic lifestyle.

  Nothing like the calm laid-back life that she'd grown accustomed to and admittedly slightly bored of in Kansas, even if it was so often interrupted by some world-ending calamity.

  Maybe I'm just selfish or looking for the wrong things?

  Psyis quietly considered, as even those moments had been filled with cows and corn and not exactly the human life, she'd watched being played out on the tiny television while feeding chickens. Mama Kerzen had always warned her that watching too much T.V. would rot her brain and maybe it had.

  Rubbing a mottled finger at her temple Psyis blamed herself for how she just wasn't happy with any of it; Steven, Kansas, and even her life in Centropolis with its free music and bad tea.

  Even now she was just settling for being alone and settling was the best she could do.

  Psyis focused back on the music as she watched the shadows along the brick wall opposite her, leaning back in her seat as she tried to refute her future. She'd inevitably go back to Steven after she'd had a few years of just being her and enjoying the more human condition. After that, she'd need to pull the guise that Steven was building for himself over this period of her life.

  Dutifully burying it and who she was under the rug as she settled into the role he intended for her and her career.

  There were bigger things to consider at the end of it all, her position in the League and the people she owed for helping her get there. If she got back with Steven, it would at the very least pay those debts back. How many would complain if they got hitched to some filthy rich human, just to kick back and enjoy their hero-ing days?

  If she just followed her bank account it didn't sound too bad either; no rent to pay, no more feeling guilty because she was teasing some poor boy for a few free toppings. Then she'd no longer need to worry about things as Psyis, because what were those personal issues in comparison to the bigger picture of The Miss Psyis?

  The woman sat down the cup of tea and pulled her knees closer, tucking her head in between them as that thought didn't bring any comfort at all. Losing herself a bit as the identity of who she knew the world expected her to be clashed against what she'd dreamed of, kicking herself for not even knowing what that dream had been.

  Psyis sighed in the dark comfort she'd encircled herself with; wondering if out there in any of the multiverse's, there was a version of her who truly felt like they had a choice. A dark chuckle of schadenfreude hit her as someone else seemed to be experiencing the same helplessness just on a much smaller scale, as a song and not their whole life.

  "Anyways, this one's called Wonderwall!" That familiar voice called out from the square that shared the same block. the Thessian smiling wondering if the singer felt the same way she did because it certainly sounded like it as he whispered under his breath. "...you tasteless shits."

  The alien quietly looked up and blamed the unknown singer for being the soul reason the rainclouds had hung over her heart for the last few months even as she smiling brightly. Only able to hear the tired exasperation they'd hidden back as they'd mocked the crowd because of her new super hearing. Apparently, he was a bit upset that more than a few of those clapping had gathered were only waiting for him to perform that one song alone.

  The heroine had to admit their way with words and imagery was incredibly imaginative compared to the rather mundane songs that littered the airwaves in comparison. Trash like 'Turn My Fire On' topped the charts simply because they'd been produced by heroes like Jamie Torch the Human-Inferno. This song certainly had more to it than the two or so words Jamie had tried to croon for his awards.

  That voice as well, it held something to it; as if the singer had come from a world of deeper emotions and brighter colors that had brought those lyrics to life inside her. Psyis even found that after she'd heard the song so many times over the last few months she was quietly singing along despite the distastefully ironic lyrics.

  Looking down at the square as the song came to a close, she made a promise to herself that she'd go and find out who the singer was before she brought her time in Centropolis to a close. There were years yet and there wasn't a human on this planet who could hide from her. She'd just need to find the mind that was full of those wonderful songs.

  Psyis decided she'd find him, blame him for these stupid sad moments, and then tell him it was OK to never sing that song again if he hated it that badly. Then she could check that off the list of things she'd wanted to do before she'd have to write Caulder in as her last name; at least one of them should have a choice of what they did in their lives. Not singing a song was far easier than denying the family that'd helped you advance every step of your career so she'd let that sing have his freedom at least.

  The sound of a knock at her door reminded Psyis that she'd need to sign away a lot more before she ever got to that point, quickly sprinted through the kitchen at the sound of a familiar voice.

  "Hey Miss P, I've got your subs!" Phil called out, standing in the hallway as he checked his appearance in the peephole super quick. Hoping that his curly red hair was evenly poof about and not squished because of that stupid hat his stupid boss made him wear.

  He'd wanted to look at least somewhat nice when the city's newest celebrity opened the door. Not that Miss Psyis hadn't been famous before, but the startlingly beautiful alien certainly hadn't been ordering subs from his dad's shop a few months ago before it had been announced she was moving to his city.

  The young man had been curious as to what Jamestone had been doing when the headlines ran, celebrating Centropolis getting their major-league heroine. The gimmicky headline artist was usually much more focused on writing hit pieces, certainly not dishing out clever names like 'The Centropolis Angel'. Now Phil certainly understood just what had swayed the tasteful journalist having seen the Thessian woman in person.

  She certainly was as the name described, Phil stupidly not even thinking to keep his thoughts elsewhere as the door opened to reveal the mind-reader that was acting far more sultry in his imagination.

  "Hey Phil," Psyis opened the door happily before swinging it back closed just a bit, the divider unfortunately not stopping the young man's thoughts or eyes. The Thessian immediately regretted not thinking to dress a bit more layered if Phil was coming over.

  Her pajama bottoms were already going to be taken badly and even as fluffy as the material was it was sadly also very stretchy and tight-fitting. Psyis knew if she turned, she'd leave little to the imagination and Phil seemed to need little help in that department. She was already very happy that the oversized hoodie was covering anything in the front that might catch the kid's eyes as she wasn't even wearing a bra.

  She was confident it hadn't been that cold outside she knew nothing was showing for him to ogle right now, but it would only give him more of an excuse to add disgustingly personal details about her to his mind. His fantasies came non-consensually into her mind Psyis carefully reached behind her to make sure the stupid words on her butt were covered as well, pretending she was reaching for her purse.

  Wanting to make sure she wouldn't give the teen any further ideas about her to dream about. Nice as the boy was, she wasn't going to shame him just as long as he stuck to thinking about it. thinking it. Still, he could go watch a movie if he thought she would ever tip like that, because that was the only place it was happening. No matter how coincidental her attire was or what here level of dress, she had the money thank you.

  The simple man's wallet she actually used floated its way outside of her bedroom, a psychic hand quickly bringing it from where it lay forgotten. Psyis' real hand pulled the hoodie down as far as she comfortably could without appearing nervously flirty, constantly monitoring Phil's thoughts.

  "It's $18.99," Phil didn't realize where his eyes were as he held out the bag, simply stating the price as he watched Psyis quickly try and cover those hips.

  Though the view of her shapely thighs poking out from under that poof of a hoodie was just as enticing to the young man, reminding him of some of the girls he'd attempted to flirt with instead of just dreaming about.

  "Sure thing," Psyis nodded while she looked for the money, glad that the view of the man's wallet flustered Phil's thoughts. "As always you can keep the change but only as long as you're safe riding back, OK Phil?"

  "I'll be fine, I walked today anyway Miss P." The delivery boy said a bit irritably as he considered how he hadn't been able to ride his bike through the packed shopping square lately. The sight of the wallet and the difficulty he'd had on his bike only reminded the young man he was still unable to drive a vehicle and a bit less of what the woman in front of him might be looking for: a grown man.

  The difficulties of his youthful part-time job in the city played through his head as he recalled the spills he'd taken on the street that convinced him not to bother.

  "Why?" Psyis asked wanting a bit more information than the vague frustration and images of people that were crossing Phil's mind. Scenes of him taking a spill or crashing into various people playing passed quickly as she considered that someone might be bullying the poor kid, though the psychic didn't really get that feeling from the boy.

  "Crowds a bit too thick with those buskers taking up the square down there, " Phil explained in frustration. Not realizing that his complaints, and the fact he was now withholding food to complain, was a bit irritating to his favorite customer.

  Instead, he was more focused on detailing just how hard he tried to solve the problem by even getting his father involved, "Dad's tried to have them kicked out but they're technically not causing a disturbance, yet."

  "They don't seem so bad?" Psyis glanced back towards the balcony on instinct before whipping back around, her powers alerting her to the young man's eyes. Her tone reflecting her disappointment in Phil's wandering gaze as well as their treatment of the musicians, "I like the music."

  "Sure, they sound great but as far as looks go?" With a bit of a laugh, Phil held up the bag in explanation, watching as Psyis took it. The young man's still adolescent mind excused his stereotyping as he acted worried about the family business, "Try selling sandwiches with a handful of homeless people right down the road and you'll see how quickly everyone loses their appetite."

  "If it's affecting your dad's business the city should do something right?" Psyis took the bag and sat it on her kitchen counter careful not to turn this time. Crossing her arms as she waited for an explanation already digging through Phil's prejudice towards her source of free entertainment. Masking her guilt in not paying for the shows she'd enjoyed, while the shoppers were, by standing up for them now.

  "I mean it is!" Phil nodded enthusiastically thinking that the actual Miss Psyis might come down to solve the issue at his family's shop. Carefully tempering his imagination at what the alien meeting his folks could lead to as he watched her white brows furrow, words dying out into a weak excuse. "It's just kind of hard to prove that to a bunch of badges."

  "Is the shop doing worse because of them?" Psyis raised a brow already knowing the answer, not surprised at how quickly any of the idle fantasies in the kid's mind vanished. Recalling how easily swayed Steven was back then, she knew that's the way they were at this age.

  As soon as she'd disagreed with some minor issue, they wanted to die on magically she wasn't the fantasy woman anymore. Phil now quite content to just imagine things happening to the buskers instead of things happening that'd 'accidentally' need him to help her undress.

  "It's $18.99," Phil held up the bag again not wanting to have the same argument he'd had with his father. Fine, maybe the shop wasn't doing any worse because of the noise but still it was embarrassing to have a bunch of society's rejects sitting outside your door.

  Rolling his eyes now instead of running them over Psyis as he played pretend in his mind, toppling the young girl while on his bike or kicking at their little bit of money spilling it. No longer interested in trying to imagine the very well-hidden curves under that hoodie as he fantasized about his revenge for being forced to walk.

  If they're all the same, then at least mine has billions to spend.

  Psyis kept the thought to herself, imagining Steven buying a record company and how she'd cut a deal with the singer outside. Show Phil just what happened when you started looking down on people. The psychic felt more than a bit upset on their behalf after being similarly violated in another matter by the young man.

  "Here, a twenty. Be safe on your way back." Psyis held out the bill, and watched as Phil took it. The thessian nearly shut the door before she'd finished wishing the young asshole well, now determined to go visit the buskers.

  Especially if she heard of any accidents taking place in the shopping center outside.

  Heading to the island that separated her kitchen from the living room Psyis once again chewed through the bitter point of her earlier thoughts as she unwrapped her lunch. The extra mushrooms and mozzarella no longer held the same enticement they'd had before as she looked at the freshly toasted sandwiches.

  Trying not to think of her new usual, the usual order the same usual cheap apartment, and the same usual life she'd asked to try living alone before heading back to Steven... as usual.

  Psyis' mind was already drawn to the city of Voltham where she'd have to go later tonight, seeing as Stan had gotten her to agree to work with them. Even as she'd yet to settle into being Centropolis' heroine she was still crawling back to Voltham to be by the Caulders once more.

  That bite went down as bitterly as her decisions; what was the point if she was just going to have to settle at the end of it anyway?

  Did I make it clear enough that something is forcing Psyis into her relationship with Steven? Comic Script and all.