Chapter Text
It was a normal afternoon, filled with counting inventories and working the register. Few walked into the AT&T store that day, and I preferred it stayed that way. A few customers, I could handle. If only twenty showed up that day, no matter how troublesome those twenty were, it’d be an infinitely better day than the mad rush that came in during Cyber Monday. That’s what I’d always thought. Until today.
I looked up from the cash register and almost jumped when I noticed a new customer was in the store. The door bell had not rung, and there were no cars in the parking lot. He calmly cruised the aisles, and a chilling air of solemnity seemed to suffocate the room. He had a sharp complexion with dark undertones. Something about him terrified me. He stood in front of a display case for a moment, quickly scrutinizing the phones. Whichever phone he was looking at, he didn’t look too impressed. At last he lifted it up, and it turned out to be the most expensive phone in the store – an iPhone X. I blinked. If he wasn’t impressed by the phone itself, he had to be impressed by its cost. It would have taken me a year of saving to earn enough for that.
Without hesitation, he brought the thousand-dollar phone to the cash register. From the breast pocket of his Dior suit he produced a $5000 bill and placed it on the counter alongside the phone. Didn’t that go out of production ages ago? Is he serious? A $5000 bill? I wondered. I hadn’t realized that I was just standing there, dumbfounded, until he spoke.
“I would like to buy a phone. This suffices,” He nodded at the iPhone X. “Suffices”? I thought incredulously. “I assume that is enough?” He gestured to the five-thousand-dollar bill. He had an accent – Eastern European – but I couldn’t place from where.
“Um…” I started, trailing off. He raised an eyebrow. I decided to stick with the script. “Hi! Welcome to AT&T. What would you like today?” Not that early in the script!
“I thought I was clear on that matter,” he exhaled, slightly irritated. “I would like –“
“Yes, sorry, I heard you.” I cut him off. For a moment an indignant complexion came over his face, but just as quickly it went away, replaced with his normal, brooding gaze. It was the eyes of someone who had seen much more of the universe than anyone would know. Of someone not used to being cut off.
“Umm…” I took the phone in my hands. Then the five-thousand-dollar bill. “Do you have an ID?”
“Why do you require an ID?”
“This… well…” I turned over the $5000 bill. It seemed real enough. “You must realize this looks sort of shady,” I nervously laughed. He didn’t laugh along.
“I do not understand. I went through the great trouble of converting my native francs to the American dollar, and now you will not accept it?”
“It’s – it’s not that,” I quickly replied, however that did raise a red flag. No legal money conversion through the government would allow a five-thousand-dollar bill fall into his hands, a bill that has been out of production for… well honestly, I didn’t know how long. But quite a while. “You need an ID to buy a phone.”
“This is ridiculous,” he replied. “I require a phone. Dr. Per –” he cut himself off. “A woman requested I buy one. I had no use for it before, but she wishes for prior notice before I appear at her lab. I implore you, it is in the best interest for both you and I that this transaction goes through.”
“’Appear’ at her lab?” I asked curiously. “What, you’re teleporting in, Nightcrawler style?”
He looked amused for a moment and said nothing. But most importantly, he did not deny it.
“Sir, I’m sorry, I’d like to give you a phone, but I can’t. It’s just my job. I need an ID, especially if you plan on buying the most expensive phone out there.”
“Once again, what is the purpose of the ID?” he asked, disgruntled.
“I don’t know,” I responded. “To make sure you’re not a criminal or one of those SHIELD’s-most-wanted supervillains or something,” I joked. He frowned, and something in his expression made me unsettled. I tapped my hand on the counter, trying to work off the jitters as the regal man glared at me across the counter. “Um…” I laughed nervously. “I’ll… I mean I guess I can make an exception if you have a credit card or something. Just so I have your name. Do you have that?”
“Yes. I also have an ID. But you may see neither.”
I finally worked up the nerve to ask it. “Why?”
“I…” for once, he looked lost for words. Different answers seemed to roll through his brain, but he voiced none of them. At last he answered. “Fine. Keep the phone. And the money, for now. This bill was actually stolen by the Hood. After I turned him in, I reimbursed the original owner triple its worth in Lat—" he cut himself off. “In my native county’s francs.”
“I’m not well versed in criminology or anything, but I think that’s a crime,” I responded.
“It is the same as all of your superheroes. Criminal lines blur when it comes to vigilantes, does it not? The Fantastic Four, for one, have broken dozens upon dozens of international laws, yet avoid all consequence. Well…” He looked lost in thought for a moment. “Avoided all consequence until a few years ago. But that was a meager manufactured sentence.”
I blinked at him once again, dumbfounded. All I could manage was, “Isn’t the Fantastic Four dead now?”
He looked away. “No. Ben Grimm and Jonathan Storm still live. The rest… their fate is uncertain.” He then fully turned away and headed towards the door. “I will be back when they fully legalize my ID. If they ever. You are lucky, a few years ago I would have taken the phone by force. But today, I am patient. I will create my own communication device instead.”
As he opened the door, I finally worked up the nerve to ask him the ultimate question.
“Who are you?”
He looked back, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Watch the news. No matter what, you will be bound to see me. The question is which mask of iron I wear. Now, the universe is free to look upon my visage. But if I ever revert back to my past self… where I hide my face from the world.” He slightly tilted his head to the side bemusedly. “You’ll regret having not sold me the phone.”
In between blinks, he suddenly disappeared. The door closed, the mass that once supported it having suddenly vanished. At last I let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
That night, I felt inclined to watch the news. Sitting on the floor in front of the TV, sipping up ramen noodles, my eyes were glued on the newest superhero predicament. And nothing compared to the sheer bewilderment and terror that filled me when I saw the man’s familiar face upon the screen, donning an iron man armor even more advanced than the late Tony Stark’s. And even worse was the headline under the video – “INFAMOUS IRON MAN – Heroic Doctor Doom?”.
Doctor Doom. Monarch of Latveria? Enemy of the Fantastic Four? Mass-murderer? That Doctor Doom? Despite all the terrifying implications that came with the encounter, one ridiculous thing kept repeating in my head that made me giggle despite my mounting terror.
Doctor Doom. THE Doctor Doom. Just tried to buy a phone. And I turned him away.