Hunger. That was all you felt at the moment. Stomach churning, mind numbing hunger.

It was easy to take your mind off of it when you were worrying about one of the million other problems that you had to deal with on a daily basis, (giant robots somehow one of them), but otherwise, it was downright painful how hungry you were.

You wouldn’t tell anyone that it was because you couldn’t buy enough food—the humiliation would consume you more than you wanted to consume a pound of fettuccine. In a League full of billionaires, world-class pilots and divine princesses, you wouldn’t reveal yourself as what made you truly human: your surrender to capitalism. Not even your best friend, Hal Jordan, who decided that right now was the perfect time to check in on you.

“Hey!” He exclaimed, his sharp blue eyes covered by the opaque white lens of the Green Lantern suit. You’d never tell him how hot he looked in that suit. “You good right now? It looked like you were going to hurl your guts out back there.”