Through the swarming crowd of people, you could hardly see Hawks from where he was buried in his fans, signing shirts and taking selfies. You could just see the red tips of his wings poking over people’s heads as you peered into the fray. You heaved a sigh. It had taken you weeks to pluck up the courage to try and get a moment with the pro hero, but you hadn’t accounted for his fame. Of course he’d never be alone - he had millions of fans in the city alone, and he was more than happy to entertain them. You’d hardly noticed a the crowd started to disperse, Hawks waving them off with a grin. He seemed ready to fly off again before catching sight of you, fiddling with your hands on a park bench nearby. He tucked his wings away, wandering over with his hands in his pockets and a lazy smile on his face.

“Hey, kid. Did you want a picture? Saw you staring - I wouldn’t want any of my fans to feel left out.”