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The pulsating noise from the jets of the dropship didn’t really do anything to calm the nerves of an Elliot Witt. The dropship was on its flight path back from the Worlds Edge arena. Another win. He should be living it up in typical Mirage style. But he knew that something wasn’t in place, something didn’t feel right. The dropship on the way back was silent, nobody really said anything – Gibraltar gave the squad a fleeting congratulations. Something was eating away at Elliot.
As the airship landed with a loud thud, Wraith left the dropship first, into the awaiting cameras of the press and the baying of the waiting fans. Gibraltar grabbed onto Mirage’s arm. “Ay, just for here, put on your brave face, you earned this bruddah.” With a small jesting bump on the shoulder, Gibraltar let Mirage go second, Makoa being the last person that left the dropship.
Small bursts of steam jetted out from the ramp as the three legends descended the ramp, at the bottom of the ramp were the usual black-suited members of the Syndicate, waiting to take us away from the stage and from the press-op.
Mirage tried his hardest to put on a brave face, and posed with fans, signed pictures – the whole kitchen sink. But it was hard – right now this all felt fake.
“Natalie always said that she hated this part, the lights and the noise, the fans.” Wraith mumbled as they were escorted away from the crowd. She turned her head and spoke to Elliot. “Elliot. What’s up. You seem distant after we won today.”
Pulling his head up ever-so-slightly, his eyes made contact with Wraith’s ghostly light-blue eyes. He snapped out of his slight trance. “Oh uh. It’s nothing.” He uttered. His eyes broke contact almost as fast as he had made contact, averting his eyes toward the concrete slabs.
“Ay, it’s never nothing with you.” Gibraltar butted in, giving his piece of mind. “Right now, you’d have spent another 10 minutes living it up with the fans. But here you are, loathing it up. That ain’t right.” Gibraltar always seemed to have a way with his words that, he always tried to spin the topic and shine a light on the situation.
“I’m not sure. Winning doesn’t feel right anymore?” He said in pensive breaths. “Gibby, you’re here to be a hero. What am I here for? Y’know? I send out some clones, crack some wit. But at the end of the day – the fans only want the ego.” The three legends stopped walking. The two handlers from the Syndicate also stopped – but the Legends mostly ignored them, what they were on about was way above their pay-grade.
“Elliot.” Wraith reached out and put a gloved hand onto Mirage’s shoulder, lodging it gently between the devices that allow for Mirage’s stealth. “Look inside yourself, you’re a hero. You don’t have to be our loveable giant Gibraltar here, or even lifeline.” Mirage was still trying as hard as possible to dodge eye-contact with Wraith, where as she was trying her hardest to make eyecontact. Their heads buzzing around comedically like flies.
“You inspire so many people. That’s why you have the most fans here.” Gibraltar did his almost clichéd signature pat on the back. “Just remember that if you ever need someone to talk to we’re here for you.”
Mirage sighed somewhat inwardly as he felt relieved – sure not all his fears had been alleviated, and just a simple speech from two of his closest friends isn’t going to mitigate everything – but maybe, just maybe it restores his personal vision of being a hero.