Chapter Two: My Secret Supervillain Lair

Chapter Two

My Secret Supervillain Lair

I live in a small, one-bedroom apartment in the South Park neighborhood of Albany, not too far from Washington Park, with two trans women.  They get the bedroom.  I sleep on the couch.  It’s not a very big couch, which kind of sucks, but I get by.  They have a big (fifteen-year-old) tv, Netflix, Hulu, and a Switch, so, it’s not too bad.  They’re letting me stay here until I can find my own place.

The other guy?  The hero?  He has a nice apartment in Philly, in Society Hill, furnished to the hilt.  You should see it.  The curtains he has are amazing.  Fancy art on the walls.  The works.

We have a couch, the tv, a coffee table fetched from the curb on trash night, a table in the kitchen, a small bookshelf, and folding chairs.

He has a sectional.  It’s not fair.  But it never was.  It couldn’t be fair.  That was the whole point. He has a billion-dollar laboratory with state of the art this and that, with an entire wing set up just to help him, with a staff of brilliant scientific minds all devoted to solving his every problem.  I have a laptop on the kitchen table that I can borrow if no one else is using it, and a know-it-all who wrote a couple of sci-fi novels and used to be in a rock band, and her gamer girlfriend.

Obviously, I’m going to need you to keep this between us.  I mean, that’s obvious, right?   Our secret, just like the rest of what I’m about to tell you.

Oh, here are my roommates handing me ten bucks and asking me to go get them ice cream cones.  One of the perks of living with a speedster.  I’ve got to dash.  Be back in a flash.




(c) Copyright 2019 Diana Hignutt