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By Charles Payseur
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Comic Book Romance
By Charles Payseur
A Spandex and Superpowers Novella
A maximum-security supervillain prison plus a new colleague with a reputation for attracting trouble. What could possibly go wrong?
Calvin Kant is what anyone would want in a reporter—an excellent typist, a dogged investigator, and an upstanding citizen. Oh, and a superhero. At least, his alter ego, Maxim, is. Fleeing a messy situation at his last job, Cal arrives in Capital City without much direction—until fellow reporter Liang Lu sweeps him into a dangerous assignment.
A supervillain prison break leaves them trapped and in peril, with Cal juggling his growing attraction to Liang with his need to protect his secret identity. And that mess Cal’s running from could catch up with him at exactly the wrong moment, leaving him vulnerable. Luckily Liang’s got more than good looks going for him, and together the two men might just save the day—and each other—and find their own comic book romance.
CAL LOOKED up at the Capital City Chronicle newspaper’s building and took a deep breath. Peering at the entrance, which teemed with activity, he pushed his glasses back up from where they had slid down the bridge of his nose. In his other hand, he carried a briefcase with all the essentials: tablet loaded with notes for the articles he had been writing before the move, full pack of protein bars, old-fashioned notepad and pen for when he wanted to look more like how people imagined a reporter to be, and, of course, a spare uniform secreted away in the briefcase’s lining, in case he had to deal with any potentially world-ending threats.
Steeling himself against the press of bodies, he waded into the crowd surrounding the entrance. It wasn’t that he hated people. Not really. He loved the bustle of a newsroom, the noise and the chaos that meant the world was alive and moving. It reminded him of what he appreciated most about people: their eagerness, their drive. It was just that, as Calvin Kant, mild-mannered reporter, he had to be especially careful not to accidentally hip check someone through a wall, or sigh too loud and blow over a food stand. And amid the turmoil of activity that he craved, he was most at risk of someone figuring out that he wasn’t just Calvin Kant, but also Maxim, one of the most famous superheroes in the world.
He navigated the crowd without incident, aiming himself past reception and toward the bullpen. It was his first time inside the building, but the layout was similar to the Metro City Metropolitan newspaper. Plus he could hear the collective profanity of a dozen reporters furiously trying to make the morning deadline for the lunchtime online release. The bullpen was organized like a factory: desks arrayed in chaotic lines, while the editor-in-chief’s office sat above it all, separated by a staircase with a great wall of tinted glass so those below could never tell if they were being watched.
First order of business: introduce himself to his new boss. He’d spent years in Metro City, covering politics mostly, and thanks to his Maxim-um speed, he was able to keep up with even the tightest of deadlines. Getting a job at the Chronicle hadn’t been too difficult, especially since the editor-in-chief, Peri Blanc, had only been too happy to steal a reporter from their Metro City rival, J. Janus Jemisin. Those two were fiercely competitive, as they were both from the same graduating class of Howard University, nonbinary, and had reputations for being relentless in the pursuit of the biggest stories. Cal remembered how JJ had given the entire staff a bonus when they were able to scoop the Capital City bridge scandal right out from under the Chronicle’s nose. He also remembered how JJ had nearly fired the entire sports team when reporters from the Chronicle broke the story on the blood-doping scandal with the Metro City baseball team, the Racers.
Stopping at the bottom of the stairs, Cal straightened his shirt and almost missed the movement to his side as a figure dashed around him and up the stairs.
“Sorry, fresh meat,” the person said, and Cal caught a flash of a smile on a tawny face, “but I’m in a hurry.” The figure took the stairs three at a time and was in the editor-in-chief’s office before Cal could react.
He just stood there, mouth hanging open, not sure exactly what had happened. A moment later the door to the office opened again and a different figure stood there. Short and with a slight paunch, Peri Blanc looked quite different from Cal’s old boss, as JJ was tall and rail thin. And where JJ’s skin was a deep umber, Peri’s was a mild amber with a bronze glow. They both had the same intense glare, though, that seemed to weigh the very soul of the person they were looking at.
“You’re late,” Peri said, then turned back into the office.
Cal coughed and pushed his glasses back up his nose before ascending the stairs and catching the door just before it closed. Inside the office, it was dimly lit and cool, a marked difference from the heat of the bullpen. It also looked oddly…comfortable. A set of black leather couches sectioned off half the room as a sort of lounge, while Peri’s massive hardwood desk dominated the other half. It was like seeing the two sides of a person—business and leisure, friend and boss—manifested in the layout of the furniture. The person who had rushed in ahead of him had already sprawled on one of the large couches, but Peri motioned Cal to the single plain chair set opposite the desk. Cal sat while Peri circled around behind the desk and sank into its high-backed executive chair.
“Calvin Kant?”
Cal nodded.
“This is boring, boss,” the person on the couch said, and Peri rolled their eyes. “You know who he is. I know who he is. Can we just skip to the part with Gorillord and the prison already?”
Cal’s eyes widened, though he tried to keep the shock from his face. He was quite familiar with Gorillord. Not as Calvin Kant, really, but certainly as Maxim. The hyperintelligent gorilla was a supervillain and ecoterrorist, bent not only on emancipating animals from their servitude as pets and zoo attractions, but also on delivering them to their “proper place” as the overlords of humanity. Cal glanced from the man on the couch to Peri, whose eyes had narrowed as they looked at the other man with open censure.
“I apologize about Lu there,” Peri said. “He’s operating under the assumption that, because you’re new, I’d assign you to be his escort to Citiplex Prison for one of his pet projects.”
“Pet project?” the man said, though now that Peri had spoken, Cal knew exactly who he was. Hotshot of the Chronicle and the driving force behind the paper’s superpowered community coverage, Liang Lu. He had a reputation for being a bit reckless in pursuit of his stories—he had been kidnapped or held hostage by at least a dozen different villains, though somehow, he always managed to come through unscathed.
“I think an exposé on what really went down with Sharkmageddon and Gravity is a little more than a pet project,” Liang went on. “I mean, everyone seems to want to just pretend that nothing happened. But Sharkmageddon is a big deal. The last time she showed up, she took out the entirety of the Supremes. If one hero was able to banish her, I think maybe it deserves a bit more attention.”
“As long as she’s gone, our readership really doesn’t seem to care,” Peri said. “Besides, it’s a nonstory. A story about what didn’t happen. For all we know, it was all just an illusion or some sort of low-powered shark-clone. All that’s certain is that she’s gone now, so there’s nothing more to report.”
“There’s a story there,” Liang said. “And I’m sure my esteemed new colleague, Mr. Kant, agrees that it’s worth checking out. At least, he would if he was half the reporter he’s supposed to be.”
Cal clenched his jaw while Liang grinned at him as if daring
him to argue. “And why do you think I’d be a good choice for this… assignment? Certainly there are others on the Chronicle who would be interested. Supervillains aren’t exactly my… specialty.”
Liang scowled, and Peri barked a laugh.
“No one here’s stupid enough to be anywhere near him while he’s on one of his projects,” they said. “The last three people to agree to help out ended up in the hospital. One still wakes up screaming from one of Fearachnid’s mental attacks. Face it, Lu, you’re bad luck.”
“And you’re a superstitious grump,” Liang said. “Anyway, Cal should be used to dangerous situations. Wasn’t he the one to get the scoop on Lexi Luzo being a half vampire in league with the Moondark Corporation? And during an election year. I can’t imagine she just let him be on his merry way.”
Cal cringed, remembering the stress-filled days following his breaking of that story. Despite everything, he had been much more worried about people discovering just how he had captured the damning evidence than about what Luzo would do in retaliation. In fact, a large part of his decision to move had been because the moment people saw him walk away from an explosion meant to kill him would be when they started to figure out he was more than just a mild-mannered reporter.
“Well, it’s up to you, Kant,” Peri said. “I don’t have anything specific for you yet, but that doesn’t mean you’re expected to put yourself in the line of fire again.”
“Oh, come on,” Liang said. “It’s a prison. The prison. There’s never been an incident at the Citiplex. It’s as safe as can be. Besides, it’ll give me a chance to show you around the city, get to know you a little better.” His lazy grin became something else, something… hungrier, and Cal felt his heart beat a little faster in his chest.
“Sure,” Cal said, allowing himself this. After all, if he refused it was likely Liang would just find someone else, someone who wasn’t bulletproof. And it wasn’t like he had anything else planned. “What could go wrong?”
AFTER HE picked up his credentials and press badge, Cal met Liang outside and they bundled into a cab. Cal always found it interesting, riding in a cab through a city. So different from flying over it, from seeing his shadow stretch as tall as buildings. Up there, it was easy to forget about down here, about the feeling of looking up and seeing the skyscrapers blotting out the blue.
“You ever been to the Citiplex?” Liang asked after just seconds of silence.
“I hear they have an excellent gift shop,” Cal said, and Liang laughed. In truth Cal knew little enough about the infamous prison. Like with most things, Metro City had its own competing supervillain jail, the Metronome, an island that was said to be inescapable. The Citiplex made the same boast, and as far as Cal knew, they were both terribly inaccurate. With the regularity with which villains escaped or got out through legal trickery, it was a wonder either building stayed full enough to justify.
“It’s supposed to be like a tower,” Liang said. “And it is. But what you see jutting up out of the earth is just the administrative portion of the Citiplex. The place that holds the prisoners, that’s all underground.”
“I suppose that would make it more difficult to escape.”
“It’s ten times more secure than the Metronome, really,” Liang said, and Cal just smiled. He felt no real need to defend his hometown. At least not from petty insults. From supervillains, without a doubt, but he really didn’t care about the whole Metro/Capital rivalry. “And you don’t need to take a boat to get there.”
“And we’re going to interview Gorillord?”
“Yup,” Liang said, leaning back against the seat of the cab.
Cal took in the view. Liang was certainly attractive, with black hair shaved on one side and long on top, combed over to hang down partly over one of his eyes, which were deep brown. He was clean-shaven and obviously knew his way around a makeup mirror—Cal would have to ask him for some pointers, maybe for some idea of what kind of eyeliner wouldn’t run during the stressful rush of reporting. If it could hold up when chasing down a story, maybe it would also work when chasing down a robber or henchperson.
“Because you have a hunch he knows something about…. Sharkmageddon?”
Liang glared at him. “You not a skeptic, are you? Because if you are, then the Citiplex is definitely not the place for you.”
Cal shook his head. He was definitely not a skeptic—one of the people who seemed to deny the existence of superpowered individuals despite the overwhelming evidence they basically nearly destroyed and miraculously saved the planet on a weekly basis. But playing things like he wasn’t entirely convinced was one of the best ways to make sure no one suspected he actually was superpowered.
“I just think that if it was Sharkmageddon, there would have been more of a big deal made,” Cal said, though he knew full well that the Guild of Superheroes had hushed it up because they didn’t want a panic. Still, enough people had seen the incident that conspiracy theories persisted.
“That’s what I thought too,” Liang said. “But I’ve got a hunch the Guild didn’t want people to know how or why she was summoned or exactly how she was defeated. I suspect that they want to keep the knowledge secret so that no villain takes advantage of it and takes out whatever, or whoever, it is that can banish Sharkmageddon so easily.”
Cal frowned. It was pretty close to the truth. Cal almost forgot, looking into Liang’s eyes and sharp features, that he was a renowned reporter. A shiver of fear worked its way up Cal’s spine. It was stupid, what he was doing. A superhero with a secret identity to protect going to a supervillain prison with a man famed for his deductive and observation skills. It was just what he had been trying to avoid in Metro City, and yet here he was, gazing into Liang’s face, imaging what it might look like if he leaned over and kissed those lips….
“If there’s such an effort to keep it quiet, then wouldn’t it be dangerous if you found out the truth?” Cal asked. He leaned against the door, trying to put some distance between himself and Liang. This whole situation was a mistake, but at the same time, he didn’t want to leave. The glint in Liang’s eyes as he spoke was hypnotic, and for all Cal knew that getting involved with anyone, much less a famous reporter, was a bad idea, he also wanted to see where this might go.
“It’s only dangerous if I decide to tell anyone what I find,” Liang said.
“You mean, you want to find out what happened just so you can cover it up? That seems hardly… journalistic.”
“I’m dedicated to the truth,” Liang said. “But not when it might put a lot of people at risk. Mostly I’m just curious. I want to know the story more than I care about telling it.”
“That’s….” Only Cal didn’t really know what that was. Not mercenary, really. Selfish, maybe. But above everything else, honest. Which Cal hadn’t been expecting. It was also tempting, because it meant that maybe, just maybe, Liang could be trusted—but what was he thinking? He’d just met Liang an hour ago, and already he wanted to confess everything? Probably it had just been far too long since Cal had been on a date. And he was in a new city, starting a new chapter of his life, and sharing a cab with a man who stirred his sense of adventure.
“Weird, I know,” Liang said, saving Cal from having to finish his thought. “But I can’t resist a mystery. Take you, for example.”
Cal froze, then forced himself to relax and smile. “Oh? I didn’t realize I was all that mysterious.”
“You’re the man who sunk Lexi Luzo’s political career,” Liang said. “You saved your state from having a nightmare for a governor for another term. I’m sure that she offered you something to stay silent. Money? Some sort of cushy appointment? And yet here you are, leaving everything you’ve built in Metro City behind, all the accolades and esteem, to start fresh in Capital. It just seems strange.”
It was strange. Hearing it out loud like that, it was most certainly strange. There was a dull ache in Cal’s chest, a sense of loss that flared and then faded. It was true that he’d walked awa
y from everything he had built. His old life. His old friends. He had traded in the familiar for the unknown. But he had done so almost joyfully, as if he had been waiting for something like that to happen, to give him an excuse to move on. For all that he had loved his life in Metro, and his job and his friends, he had never really had anyone he could trust. It had always been about hiding who he was, and when everything with Luzo had happened, it just seemed the time to get out.
“Maybe I don’t like the spotlight,” Cal said.
Liang licked his lips and smiled. “Then why break the biggest story in the last decade? Why not give it to another reporter? Seems to me you must have wanted the spotlight just a little.”
Cal swallowed. It was true. He could have tipped off someone else. But then that person would probably be dead. It was only because he was secretly Maxim that he had any sort of safety. It was also true, though, that there were other ways he could have made sure the news broke. Safer ways. And instead he had done it himself, knowing that it would mean leaving. Knowing that it would mean risking his secret identity.
“Maybe I’m also dedicated to the truth. And maybe I wanted to be sure it wasn’t covered up.”
And maybe he had just been tired. The one thing that had always stopped him from acting on what he knew about Luzo’s criminal activity in the past had been fear of discovery. That she would target him and that he’d be found out. He had always hoped she would just not be elected. That people would see through her lies. But with another vote looming, he realized that people didn’t want to see the truth. They wanted to believe her. And when dealing with a supervillain, well, maybe he had just been tired of having to see her smiling face on television and knowing that, when the cameras were off, she was trying to steal the most vulnerable of society and use them for a ready blood source.
“And maybe you’re a bit more of a thrill seeker than you’re willing to admit,” Liang said, raising his eyebrows in provocative skepticism.
Comic Book Romance Page 1
