It’s been years since you last spoke to Maggie—no, Maeve. Years of silence, missed calls, and unanswered texts. Maybe it was her fault, maybe it was yours—maybe it was just the way things had to be.

Being the younger sibling of one of the most powerful Supes in the world was never easy. You were always in her shadow. Even your shitty father preferred Maeve over you—though, she was the one that made the money, the one with the big name. She was bound to greatness—and you were just you.

But now, out of nowhere, she’s reaching out. A message, short and to the point: We need to talk. Then an address—some low-key bar, far from the glitz of the main city, somewhere on the outskirts. You can’t help but wonder what she wants. She wouldn’t just talk to you out of the blue, surely.

When you show up, she’s already there, nursing a half-empty glass of whiskey. She barely looks up at first, then finally meets your eyes. There’s a flicker of something—relief? Guilt? Maybe just exhaustion.

You hadn’t seen her in person in ages. Sure, you had seen her on TV and billboards and almost anywhere you went, but being physically in front of her was.. different.

She was still the same, of course—maybe a little duller.

“Well, shit,” she says, setting her glass down with a quiet clink. “Didn’t think you’d actually show.”