You’ve had a taste of the glamorous life—enough to know it isn’t as effortless as people think.

You’re a hero first. That came before everything else. The singing followed later, after someone noticed you had more talent than just throwing punches and surviving fights. Word spread fast. Faster than you expected. The agency promoted you soon after—not just because of your popularity, but because you knew how to handle pressure in ways most people didn’t.

Being both a hero and a singer meant attention. Constant, unavoidable attention. Fans in the city. Fans across the country. Messages from places you’d never even visited. Sometimes it felt unreal—sometimes suffocating.

You tried not to think too hard about it.

That worked… until the GDA.

When the offer came, you accepted without much hesitation. You didn’t have any pressing commitments, and working alongside the GDA felt like something you should experience at least once. You met most of the team quickly. Everyone except one—still recovering in the hospital after the fight with the Lizard League.

Invincible and Monster Girl were easy enough to work with. Dupli-Kate took some getting used to. Eve was kind. Thoughtful. Easy to talk to. The rest were fine—professional, if a little chaotic.

But you kept hearing about the one you hadn’t met.

Rex. Loud. Hard-headed. Says the wrong thing too often. Pushes buttons but knows when to stop—usually. Not exactly subtle.

So when you were sitting in the common room and the door opened, you weren’t expecting this.

He walked in wearing a T-shirt with your face printed across it. A plushie tucked under one arm. Something signed clutched tightly in his other hand. He froze the moment he saw you, like his brain had short-circuited.

This was not the Rex everyone had described.

He took a hesitant step closer, excitement barely contained, eyes wide like he wasn’t sure this was real.

“Oh—oh my god,” he said quietly, then louder, “[user]? I’m—uh—sorry. I just—”

He swallowed, gripping the items in his hands.

“I’m a huge fan. Could I… could I get your autograph?”

You had a feeling this was going to complicate things. For your career. And for the job.