Chapter Text
Tango was just planning on getting some groceries. Just going shopping, nothing special. Nothing that could get him in the situation of spotting a villain and pausing to chase after them. Though, for some reason, that seemed to be the situation he found himself in.
Out of nowhere, a villain had appeared—Froststar, a well-known one in the city. And yet, despite being so skilled, he was standing on the edge of a tall building, grinning at Tango, or now called Blaze, even though there was a knife being held against his neck.
“Guess I can finally try out the jumping off a roof trick!”, He chuckled, sounding way too cheerful for what was just said.
Tango stared at Froststar for a second, his grip on the other loosening slightly as he tried to process that sentence. But before he could even say anything, the teal-haired villain had already freed himself out of the others grip, now standing even closer to the edge of the building.
“Until we see each other again!” Froststar called out with a grin, giving a mock salute. Then, in one swift movement, he took a step back, and with a sudden rush of action, he leapt off the rooftop. The villain was gone before anyone could realize what had happened.
Tango reacted instantly. “I-uh- what!?” He shouted, stepping forward hurriedly to the very edge of the building, peering down into the street below. His eyes scanned it fast, searching for any sign of Froststar’s fall or landing. But to his frustration, nothing could be seen. No sign of him on the sidewalk, no movement, no trace. The villain had disappeared into thin air, just like every other time. The city was too busy to notice, or perhaps foolish enough not to care.
“Damn it,” Tango muttered quietly. His shoulders sank. As much as he tried to catch the troublemaker, he always found some way to evade him. There was no tangible trail, no easy way to track him down. This kind of escape was almost routine now.
As he stood frozen at the edge of the building, a burning feeling of annoyance and anger started to form in his stomach. Froststar was truly a menace, not just for his chaotic antics, but for his infuriating ability to vanish. Pulling back, Tangos posture deflated and he sat down. The hero spent the last twenty minutes, as Blaze, chasing the teal-haired villain across rooftops after a diamond heist. And now, nothing. Just the endless cityscape stretching below.
He should have known better than to expect a straight-on fight with Froststar. The villain thrived on surprise, on theatrics and mostly on making Blaze look like a fool. Every week, it was the same. A theatrical crime, a chase, and then a vanishing act that left Tango reeling. He was tired of it. Tired of the near misses, the fleeting glimpses, of that wicked grin and of the way Froststar always seemed to be one step ahead of him.
He sighed, running a gloved hand through his hair. With another frustrated grunt, he turned away from the edge, heading for the hidden alleyway where he could change his clothes. He needed to shed the persona and return to being plain old Tango, before his roommate started wondering where he was.
He ducked into the grimy alleyway, pulling off the red and black mask he always wore. The cool air hit his face, a welcome change from the heated chase. Tango quickly shucked off his hero suit, revealing the comfortable, if slightly rumpled, clothes he wore underneath – a simple t-shirt and jeans. The suit folded down, fitting right into his backpack. With a deep breath, he tucked his ginger hair, normally looking like literal fire, into a messy bun. Changing his hair was a shapeshifting technique he learned a while ago.
But then he remembered something.
Groceries. Right. The task that had been so rudely interrupted by the smug villain. He quickly pulled up his shopping list on his phone, then made his way to the nearest supermarket, trying to erase the infuriating image of Froststar’s grin from his mind. The thought of the villain, so damn smug, even as he threatened him with a knife, still made Tango so utterly upset.
He moved through the brightly lit aisles, autopilot engaged as he tossed milk, bread, and a surprising amount of instant noodles into his basket. His mind, however, was very distracted. Froststar was a weird type of villain. He didn't seem driven by malice or greed, but by an insatiable need for attention and wanting to upset Blaze. It was maddening.
Bag heavy with groceries, Tango finally arrived back at his apartment building. The elevator ride up to the floor felt longer than usual, his mind still buzzing with the day’s events. He unlocked the door, stepping into the familiar, slightly chaotic space he shared with Scott. The scent of coffee and something vaguely floral—probably Scott’s expensive cologne—filled the air.
“Tango, you’re back!” a cheerful voice called out from the living room.
Tango walked into the living room, setting his heavy grocery bags down with a thud near the kitchen counter. Scott, his roommate, was sprawled elegantly on the plush velvet sofa, a fashion magazine open on his lap, though his bright blue eyes were currently fixed on his phone. His blonde hair, perfectly done, as always, glinted under the afternoon light streaming through the large windows. Scott, the ‘oh so great’ supermodel, looked every inch the picture of effortless charm. It was a stark contrast to Tango himself.
“Yeah, just got back,” he mumbled, rubbing his temple. The lingering frustration from the chase still clung to him like a stubborn shadow. “Had a bit of a… detour.” He said, deciding to rather not mention that he almost got impaled by an ice dagger.
Scott finally looked up, a bright, disarming smile spreading across his face. “Oh, really? Anything exciting? The city’s been a bit wild today, hasn’t it? I saw some news alerts about Blaze chasing Froststar again. Seriously, that guy is just everywhere.” He chuckled, a light, airy sound.
“Yeah, another one of Froststar’s little performances. He’s a real piece of work.” Tango said, walking over to the fridge and starting to put away the milk.
Scott shrugged, picking at an imaginary piece of lint on his designer jeans. “Honestly, Tango, if I were Blaze, I would’ve just left Froststar to fall without checking. If i was a hero i really wouldn’t care.” He winked, completely unaware of the conflict in Tango’s mind.
Tango laughed at that. “Right. Because that’s what heroes do. Let villains possibly commit suicide.”
He busied himself putting away the groceries, his gaze on the fridge as he talked. "So, how was your day? Anything exciting happen?"
Scott stretched languidly, the sunlight catching the defined muscles of his arms. "Meh, same old, same old. Posing for cameras, looking pretty, all that jazz. You know, the usual." He grinned, utterly self-assured.
Tango shook his head with a wry smile. "Yeah, I can imagine. I'm sure it's a real hardship, being gorgeous and famous." He teased, rolling his eyes playfully.
Gasping, Scott turned his head to his roommate, placing his hand on his chest in an over-exaggerated way. "As if you would know! Constantly being in the center of attention is tiring!“ He claimed, slumping back onto the couch again.
Tango gave Scott a dry look as he packed the last of the groceries into the fridge. “Tiring, huh? Must be exhausting being adored by millions.”
Scott flopped dramatically across the couch, limbs splayed like a Renaissance painting. “It is! I should start charging people just to look at me. Or maybe I already do.” He tossed a wink in Tango’s direction.
Tango chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. Scott’s over-the-top antics were both irritating and oddly comforting after the chaos of the day. It was always like this—Scott playing the peacock while Tango tried not to fall asleep standing up after another night of Blaze patrol.
Still, that grin. That ridiculous, theatrical flair. The mock salutes. The too-perfect hair that just happened to be a different color…
Tango paused mid-step, staring at the closed fridge door in front of him.
No. No way. That’s crazy.
But for a flicker of a moment, just a second, his mind dragged him back to that rooftop. To the glint in Froststar’s eye as he stepped off the edge, the confident grin, the way he seemed to know Blaze would chase.
It was the same kind of grin Scott wore when he knew he’d stolen Tango’s last energy drink from the fridge.
Coincidence. Just coincidence. Right?
He turned slowly, eyeing Scott from across the room. The model was now lazily scrolling through his phone, lips curled into a faint smirk. Same one he always wore when he was being particularly annoying. Or hiding something.
“You ever dye your hair teal?” Tango asked suddenly.
Scott looked up, blinking once. “What? Teal? Ew. Please, do I look like a cyberpunk DJ to you?”
“You could pull it off,” Tango said, voice carefully neutral.
Scott’s smile widened, tapping his phone against his chin. “Hmm. That’s suspiciously complimentary of you, Tango. Are you feeling okay?”
“Maybe I just appreciate good bone structure.”
Scott cackled. “Finally! You do recognize my greatness.”
But Tango’s brain wasn’t laughing. He was spiraling—just a little. Could it be Scott? The timelines never matched up, though. Or… maybe they did. Scott was always conveniently home when Tango returned, but rarely did he explain what he’d been doing beforehand. The city was big, and yet Froststar always knew where to be. Always found Blaze.
Was he overthinking it? Probably. But something about today’s chase, about the way Froststar had said “Until we see each other again” with that infuriatingly familiar cadence…
Tango cleared his throat, grabbing a glass of water just to do something with his hands. “You ever get the feeling like someone’s messing with you on purpose?”
Scott didn’t even look up. “Darling, I’m in fashion. That is my life.”
“Right,” Tango muttered, sipping his water and watching him out of the corner of his eye.
There was no way Scott was Froststar. He was too loud. Too pretty. Too—well, Scott.
…But also, exactly the kind of person who might be theatrical enough to leap off a roof for dramatic effect.
Tango let out a long sigh, collapsing onto the couch beside him. “I think I’m losing it.”
Scott smirked without looking up. “That would require you having ‘it’ in the first place.”
Tango groaned. “You’re the worst.”
“I know,” Scott replied sweetly. “And yet you still live with me. That’s called loyalty.”
A beat passed.
“I think it’s called rent control.”
Scott laughed again, and for a moment, the tension in Tango’s chest loosened. Whatever doubts he had, they could wait. For now.