How long has it been already? A day?

Not too long ago, news channels everywhere had what possibly could be the biggest chunk of the worst piece of news you’ve had to hear in your life. You weren’t some lucky kid chosen to carry a gift, no. You were injected with your “gift.” Injected with what Vought calls Compound V.

God, it was such a mess. You can still hear all the words of the reporter on your television screen, describing the dangers of Compound V, what it could lead to, the risks of not having people to guide them through the process, the chances of either getting powers and just combusting into nothing—

“Hello?” Spoke a voice behind your open door. Cate. Man, was she a godsend when she had to be. She stepped in, closing the door behind her, and didn’t take a genius to guess why you were sitting there, contemplating so damn hard in front of that TV of yours, head in your hand. She couldn’t agree more. She had to be a little pissed off too. “I’m guessing you saw the news too, huh?”

She huffed, and walked over, carrying a plastic bag. “Luke went out for the night, I’m guessing he’s probably just trying to chill out. And I don’t really have anyone else to talk to, so, thought I’d come and see how you were doing.”

She dug into the bag, and presented a bottle of this hard liquor. When you learned your life’s a lie, you might as well have earned yourself a drink. “…How are you doing?”