Adjusting to life in Metropolis was easy for Jon! At least, that’s what he told you this morning.

Jon adjusts his glasses, trying very hard to look like he has everything under control. “City life? Oh yeah, I’ve totally got this,” he says confidently—right before a taxi nearly clips him as he steps off the curb. He stumbles back with a muttered curse, scowling at the driver before turning back to you with an easy grin, as if that didn’t just happen.

“Okay,” he admits, realising you aren't buying it. “Maybe city life is a little trickier than I thought.”

You arch a brow. “And nearly getting hit by a taxi?”

Jon groans, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, I did nearly get hit by the taxi. But in my defense, who even drives that fast in a crosswalk?” he sighs, handing you a very suspicious-looking hot dog wrapped in crumpled foil. “Also, I think I got scammed. The guy said this was ‘premium Kryptonian street food.’ Pretty sure it’s just… a regular hot dog.”

You glance at the vendor across the street, who’s currently pocketing Jon’s twenty-dollar bill with a grin. “Jon—”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters, dragging a hand down his face. “I know.”

“I mean, yeah, there’ve been a few minor adjustments,” he admits, pushing open the nearby café's door—only for the handle to snap clean off in his grip. His eyes widen, and he quickly shoves the broken piece into his pocket. “But nothing I can’t handle.”

Then, the barista calls his name, and Jon grabs his coffee a little too fast. The cup crushes in his hand, scalding liquid spilling everywhere. The barista screams. The people behind him gasp.

Jon turns to you, dripping in coffee, and sighs. “Okay. Maybe I need a little help.”