From his penthouse atop Cadmus Tower Superboy soaked in the city. Metropolis was many things. It was Hob's Bay, the gateway to the Atlantic, where the moon was rising out of the water. It was New Troy, where soaring bastions of wealth and power crawled atop one another to reach heaven. And it was Suicide Slum, all crumbling brick and neon lights, where the hopeless broke bread with the forgotten. Each of its parts was at war with the others for the identity of their city, and the lives of millions hung the balance. Cadmus built Superboy to win that war.
He hovered in front of the window, staring at the boy looking back at him.
It was strange to be in this penthouse. This was the place he called home when cameras were around. It was the background in much of the footage for that documentary, and he'd brought a reporter from the Planet by for a 'candid interview' once. But he never came here to rest. Not before today, anyway; it seemed today was full of new experiences.
A young woman slept in the bed behind him, snoring softly. Nasal septum displaced to the left. Age of tissue says likely childhood injury. No serious symptoms...just the snoring.
Her name was Anne. She was studying to be a hospice nurse after her granddad spent his last days alone. Didn't want anyone to ever have to go through that again. He knew she meant it by her heart rates and blood pressure. It wasn't that Superboy didn't trust her, but...
'Can't turn it off.'His senses told him things no normal person could ever know. They told him Anne was entering REM sleep by the electrical bursts in her brain stem; though he did not know what she'd dream of. They told him she was originally from Gotham and had a heart condition by the cardiac pacemaker bearing the branding of the Wayne Foundation. It was old. Should've been replaced years ago, but that kind of procedure was expensive- and she didn't have an insurance card in her purse.
He'd cleared a transfer of funds to her bank account hours ago. Anonymous donation. The world needed Anne too much to let her fall between the cracks.
His senses also told him the elevator was headed up the top floor. Three men were on it: two armed. The third smelled like whiskey and expensive cologne. His manager. Judging by the sweat on his palms and the heat radiating off his face, he wasn't happy, either.
Superboy floated back down to the floor and snatched up a pair of shorts to make himself decent. The bed was big enough that he had to crawl across it to shake Anne awake.
"Hey, hey...Rise n' shine. Sorry to wake ya but we gotta go. Don't have a lot of time." Her answer was groggy, non-committal. Would take her body a minute or two to spin up.
"What's- what's going on?"
"So y'know how I said I'm not s'posed to have 'guests?'" Doing his best to mask his worry, he went to work gathering her things. Lay her clothes out so she can get dressed quick. Everything else goes back in her bags. Clean up the mess they'd made. She wanted him to slow down, thought he was making too big a deal of it. She didn't know- couldn't have.
His senses told him things no normal person could ever know.
Elevator pings down the hallway: shit. Anne was struggling with the buttons on her shirt. Not enough time.
'Have to make some.' He decided, setting his brow.
"I know this sucks, n' I'm sorry, but- you remember how we got in? Yeah, that'll get ya to the roof. I'll fly you home I just, I gotta deal with this, okay?" God, he felt like such an asshole, and not in the cool way.
Footsteps right outside his door. Superboy flew across the room and stepped through it just as his manager went to knock.
Rex Leech growled. He had a voice like a barking dog and the mug to match. Somebody with more fashion advisors than most people had dollars in their pocket oughta know better than to stick with that haircut: long, oily in the back and retreating in the front. Seemed those hair plugs didn't work out. The stench of his cologne was almost overwhelming this close up. Part of Superboy wondered if that was on purpose.
"Whatcha doin' here, bossman?""Was going to ask you the same question." Rex narrowed his eyes. Wasn't much of a secret that Superboy avoided his nest. Sleep did less for his body than time under the sun, so he'd usually spend his nights in the sky. Rex was an idiot, but he wasn't a moron; he knew something was up.
Hard to say how much he knew exactly. Best for Superboy to keep his cards close to his chest.
"Thought I could use the change of scenery," he shrugged, avoiding eye contact.
Rex took a step forward. He was shorter than Superboy by a couple inches, but he was one of the few people on planet earth willing to get in the kid's face. "Really? 'Cause I heard something different." He dug a fat hand into his pocket, producing a smartphone. Shoved it into Superboy's face. It was video picture somebody had uploaded to Twitter.
A video of him leaving that bank with a girl hugging on his chest, to be specific. Rex scrolled. A photo of him and Anne picking up coffee. More scrolling, more photos and videos- their entire day together, all catalogued helpfully in one thread.
"Look, Rex, I know-"Sweaty finger shoved into his lips. "You know? What is it you know, exactly? Because I'd bet my left foot you don't know how much fucking money you lost me today. I could tell you. I could tell you down to the goddamn cent how much your little stunt cost me personally. And dear mother Mary don't get me started on what the
company went through."
He stepped back, leaning against the door frame. Trying his best to look calm when he felt anything but.
"I don't get what the big deal is.""No, you really don't!" Rex roared. "You really fucking don't, because you're a stupid little bitch in red tights. The eggheads gave you everything but a brain, didn't they? Put all that extra meat in your cock instead?"
Superboy's face flushed red.
"Where the fuck is she?" Leech asked, pulling a cigarette from his pocket. He smoked when he was stressed. He was always smoking. "You didn't let her leave already, did you?"
Eyes to the ground. The moment drags for a century before he shakes his head. Shame burns in his veins.
"Good. Girl can't leave this building until she's signed an NDA." With a nod of his head Rex sent his two security guards ahead of him. Superboy collapsed out of their way without so much as a squeak. Leech followed them in and made himself at home, putting his feet up on a desk nobody'd used since the move in. "You're down two-digits with single women. People think you're sleeping around. Flirty's part of the act, but you can't
fuck. Marketing's been scrambling all day but they think they've got a solution."
"What is it?" He muttered.
An ugly little grin spread across Leech's face. "We're gonna find the Superboy a girlfriend. Going steady means you're dependable, n' couples are cute. Looking for an eighteen to nineteen, black or close to it, and she's gotta be famous enough that it ain't 'problematic.'" Rex made air quotes with his fingers, not bothering to hide his disgust.
Superboy raised an eyebrow.
Rex took that in the worst way possible. "Some Hollywood type got uppity on Godfrey's show about you bein' a different color from Superman. Called it whitewashing or some shit. Marketing thinks this'll counter that before you lose too many points with liberals."
"That wasn't what I-" Superboy tried to respond but he'd lost all energy to fight back by now. He'd been curious why he didn't look like Superman, too. The answer he'd gotten wasn't surprising. Bunch of stats about how white boomers didn't trust black teenage superheroes. Had the big man dealt with that when he was getting started?
Sound coming from the roof. Anne was arguing with those two meatheads. Refusing to leave until she talked to him. He frowned. Shouldn't have dragged her into this. Knew it was wrong, knew she'd suffer for it, but did it anyway. Selfish. Stupid.
Listen, kid." Rex climbed back to his feet and planted his hands on Superboy's shoulders. A comforting gesture, or it was meant to be; it only made him squirm more. "I know this was a tough night for you, but I got something to make it up for you. Acquisitions has a mission for ya. A proper supervillain. Supposedly she threw down with Superman back in the day. Calls herself Knockout. Take her down and bring her back here, alright? I'll shoot you the packet. Get started right away, it'll get your mind off all this messiness. You're a good kid. You just need...proper direction."