Chapter Text
I had felt like someone had been following me for a while. It wasn't a new feeling; in fact, for the past few days, I had had this strange impression that every time I left the house, someone would eventually show up behind me. I could never identify them. Whenever I turned around, there was never anyone particularly suspicious, no one who seemed obviously like they were following me. Sometimes I thought I was simply being paranoid, that I was paying too much attention to the people around me, but this time was different.
I was inside a store, standing in front of the drinks refrigerator, when I finally saw him. The boy was a few meters behind me, sitting down and pretending to look at his phone.
I did the same, pretending to focus on the drinks while watching him from the corner of my eye. And, well... he was very cute. I couldn't deny it. He had brown, slightly messy hair, fairly defined features, and eyes that, even from that distance, caught my attention. He looked young, probably around my age. He was dressed simply, but there was something about his physique that was pretty hard to ignore: his arms were defined, his shoulders broad, and his muscles were noticeable even from a certain distance.
It wasn't like I was staring at him too much, it was just... obvious.
Very obvious.
I quickly looked away. This wasn't the time to start analyzing the physique of a stranger who was possibly following me.
Although, to be fair, it was pretty hard not to notice him. I focused on the drinks in front of me again and ended up letting out a small laugh.
──Ah, ha. ──
I took both and walked over to the cashier. I could feel the boy eyes on me, even though I didn't have to turn around to know it. Still, when I reached the counter, I looked up at him for a moment. He was staring directly at me. And, for some reason, he was smiling. It wasn't a strange or uncomfortable smile; it was more of a small, almost amused smile, as if something I had done had made him laugh.
I frowned slightly, not understanding what was so funny, and turned my attention back to the cashier.
──Hey, do you also have Sharkire Energy? ──
The cashier nodded and turned around to grab one.
──Ah, no, no, no. ──
I laughed softly and raised a hand before she could even place it on the counter.
──I don't want it, no. That stuff kills you. My friends used to drink it during finals, and now they're addicted, so I need you to not sell me any. Memorize my face. ──
The cashier looked at me in confusion. I started moving my hands in front of my face, pointing at myself as if that would actually help her memorize me.
──Please, don't sell this guy any. ──
I pointed at myself.
──No Sharkire. ──
The cashier looked at me as if she were trying to decide whether I was serious or just an idiot.
──Sure, whatever you say. ──
She turned around to put the drink back, but I immediately shook my head.
──But I am taking one, though. ──
I paused for a second, looking at the cans.
──The last one? Or better yet, two. And then don't sell me any more. ──
I heard a small laugh behind me.
I glanced over.
The boy was biting his lip while smiling.
For some reason, that made me smile too. It was weird. I didn't know who he was, I didn't know why he was there, and I definitely didn't know why he was following me, but at least he seemed to have a sense of humor.
I paid for my things and left the store. Once I was outside, I took a deep breath.
I didn't want to admit it, but I was a little nervous. I looked back and, sure enough, the boy had also left, with some flowers in his hands.
──Great. ──
I tried to convince myself that maybe we were heading to the same place. New York was huge, after all. Coincidences happened. Maybe he lived nearby, maybe he was going to the same place, maybe he simply had a similar route to mine.
There were too many possibilities to immediately assume he was following me.
Or at least, that's what I wanted to believe.
I walked down the subway stairs, tapped my card, and entered the train car. A few seconds later, the doors began to close, and just before they shut completely, the boy stepped inside too. I stood still, looked at him for a moment, and then glanced at the doors closing behind him.
This time, it couldn't be a coincidence anymore.
I leaned against one of the metal poles and opened one of the cans. The sound of the drink opening made a small psssht that disappeared into the noise of the train.
I took a sip, then another, and another. The boy was on the other side of the car, standing while keeping some distance from me. I watched him while drinking, trying not to make it too obvious.
He kept his gaze toward the floor, his hands close to the pockets of his jacket. He didn't seem aggressive. In fact, he seemed pretty uncomfortable, as if he didn't know what to do with himself.
That was the strange part.
If he really was following me, why did he look so nervous?
I took another drink and my eyes wandered over the boy again.
Yeah, he was definitely handsome, even more so up close, despite there still being several meters between us.
His brown hair fell slightly over his forehead, and there was something strange about his expression, a mixture of exhaustion and sadness that I couldn't quite identify. Even with his clothes on, I could tell he was pretty fit. His arms, his shoulders... everything.
I quickly looked away.
Great.
Now I was analyzing the muscles of the guy who was following me.
Totally normal.
But there was something else I couldn't explain. The more I looked at him, the more familiar he seemed.
Not his face exactly. It was something harder to pinpoint. A feeling, a kind of recognition that didn't make any sense. Like trying to remember a song I'd heard hundreds of times, but could only remember a tiny part of.
There was something about him.
Something my mind seemed to recognize, even though I couldn't.
The train gave a small jolt, and I had to grab the pole to keep from losing my balance. When I looked up again, the boy was already staring at me.
Our eyes met.
Just for a second.
But it was enough.
There was something in his gaze that made me freeze. It didn't look like the way someone would look at a stranger. It seemed... different. As if he were trying to memorize me.
As if he were afraid to look away and lose me.
The stranger quickly looked away.
I took another sip of my Sharkire.
──What the hell...? ──
I had no idea who he was. I didn't know why he was following me. I didn't know what he wanted from me.
And, above all, I didn't understand why a part of me still felt like I already knew him.
I glanced over my shoulder as I walked down the street, but I couldn't see the boy anywhere. Maybe he had gotten off earlier. Maybe he had taken another exit. Maybe, finally, he had stopped following me. I slowly exhaled and looked at the two cans I was still carrying. At least I'd managed to make it home.
Well... my new apartment.
The street was much more crowded than usual. From half a block away, I could already hear music, conversations, and the occasional burst of laughter coming from the building. Several windows were lit up, and people were constantly coming in and out. I adjusted my jacket and kept walking with the drinks in my hands, trying to enjoy the moment. It was our first party at the new apartment, and although MJ and I had promised to keep it small, apparently nobody had gotten that message.
As soon as I approached the entrance, I heard several familiar voices.
──Hey, Ned! ──
I raised a hand.
──What's up? ──
──Ned! ──
I smiled. It was impossible not to. I'd met almost all of them at university. Some were classmates I'd shared courses with, others had ended up becoming friends, and a few simply showed up at every gathering because they knew someone who knew someone. It was one of those nights where it seemed like everyone knew everyone, and for a moment, I completely forgot about the stranger who had followed me from the store.
──Hey, give me that. ──
One of my friends walked over and took one of the drinks from my hand before I could protest.
──Thanks, man. ──
We high-fived, and I laughed. Another person immediately appeared beside me and held out his fist. I bumped mine against his as we walked toward the entrance.
──Everything good? ──
──Everything's good. ──
──I thought you were gonna show up later. ──
──So did I. ──
I pushed the door open, and the noise hit me full force.
There were people everywhere.
Too many people. The apartment's housewarming party had ended up being much bigger than MJ and I had planned. In theory, we were only going to invite a few friends from university, make some food, and spend the night relaxing. In theory. In practice, there were people sitting on the couches, others leaning against the walls, groups talking in every corner, and someone had decided that our hallway was an excellent place to dance. I stood in the doorway for a second, staring at all of it, trying to remember exactly when we'd completely lost control of our own party.
──Who invited so many people? ──
I muttered it as I tried to make my way through.
──You. ──
A voice answered from somewhere beside me.
I turned.
I didn't know the person.
──Oh. ──
I kept walking.
I squeezed between two groups who were talking about a party that had happened the previous week. Someone waved at me from across the room, and I raised my hand. A girl quickly hugged me and congratulated me on the apartment. MJ's boyfriend asked me where she was.
──I think she's in the living room. ──
──You think? ──
──It's her apartment too. ──
── Good point.──
He patted me on the shoulder and disappeared into the crowd.
I kept walking until I finally reached the kitchen. I set one of the drinks on the counter and looked around. There were cups everywhere, plates, food bags, an open pizza box, and someone had left a bottle of sauce on the table. There was even a shoe underneath one of the chairs.
I didn't ask. I didn't want to know.
I leaned against the counter for a moment and, without meaning to, started thinking about him again.
The boy from the subway.
I looked toward the kitchen entrance.
Nothing.
For a moment, I felt relieved, but almost immediately another feeling surfaced, one I hadn't expected. Curiosity. A strange kind of excitement that was difficult to explain.
Because, let's be honest, why would someone like him follow me? He was handsome, seemed physically confident, had that strange air of someone who had been through things I didn't understand, and yet, on the subway, he had seemed more nervous than I was. It didn't make any sense. I wasn't particularly famous or important. I didn't have any enemies. I wasn't someone a stranger would have any reason to follow around for hours. So why me? And worse still: why did part of me feel a small thrill at the thought that someone like him had decided to follow me? I didn't know if it was curiosity, adrenaline, or simply my brain searching for an explanation for something that didn't have one.
I picked up my drink and took a sip while continuing to think about him.
There was something about his eyes.
Something I couldn't get out of my head.
It didn't seem like he was following me because he wanted to hurt me. If that had been the case, he probably would've acted differently. What I'd seen was different. It seemed like he was trying to get closer to me, but didn't know how, as if he had something to tell me and was terrified to do it.
I shook my head.
──I'm overthinking this. ──
I set the drink back on the counter and looked toward the hallway leading to the bedrooms. I needed to get away from the noise for a bit. Not because the party was bad; actually, I was enjoying it quite a lot, but I needed five minutes of silence. Besides, there was something I'd been wanting to do for days.
My app.
My Spidey Tracker.
Ever since I'd started developing the app, Spider-Man had practically become an obsession. Not a weird obsession, well... maybe a little weird, but there was something fascinating about him. Nobody knew who he really was, where he lived, how he managed to move through the city so quickly, or how he could show up exactly when something was happening. I'd read practically every article I could find about him, watched videos of his appearances, compared photographs, and written down patterns that probably no normal person would have considered important.
I liked Spider-Man. A lot. And not just because he was an incredible superhero, although that was definitely part of it. I liked him because he seemed different from everyone else. He didn't act like someone who needed to be worshipped. He helped people and then disappeared. Sometimes he even made jokes when he was in danger, as if he needed to keep the situation under control even when he was scared out of his mind.
And that intrigued me even more. I wanted to know who was behind the mask.
Not because I wanted to expose him or get him into trouble, but because I needed to understand what kind of person underneath that mask could be capable of doing all of that and still remain so... human. Every time a new theory about his identity appeared, I'd end up researching it for hours.
I'd created the Spidey Tracker precisely for that: to record sightings, cross-reference locations, compare times, and eventually find a pattern that could lead me to him.
Maybe it was crazy, but if there was an answer, I wanted to find it.
I'd had several new ideas for updating it. I wanted to improve the location system, add filters for recent sightings, and, if I could gather enough information, try to create some sort of pattern map. Spider-Man appeared in different parts of the city, but he never seemed to do it randomly.
There were areas where he appeared more frequently, times when he seemed to be active, and certain types of incidents that seemed to draw him in.
If I could gather enough data, maybe I could predict where he would show up.
Maybe I could find him.
I smiled slightly at the thought.
──Five minutes. ──
That was all.
Five minutes in my room.
Then I'd go back to the party.
I walked down the hallway, dodging people until I reached my door. I opened it, and the noise from the party became slightly muffled behind me. I breathed out. Silence. Well, almost.
I could still hear the music from far away, but at least there weren't twenty conversations happening at the same time anymore.
I stepped inside and closed the door.
I looked at my desk.
There was my computer.
And beside it, my board.
My famous board.
There were pictures of Spider-Man plastered all over it, newspaper clippings, printed screenshots from videos, photographs taken by witnesses, maps of New York, theories, notes, and little connections that only made sense to me. Some of the photographs were slightly crooked, and several papers had piled up on top of each other, but I knew exactly where everything was.
It was practically a map of everything I knew about Spider-Man.
I stared at it for a few seconds.
I'd been thinking about reorganizing it.
Maybe putting the sightings in chronological order or dividing them by area.
I also wanted to add a specific section for sightings where Spider-Man seemed to be chasing someone. There were too many possibilities and **far too many unanswered questions.**
And maybe...
No.
First, I needed to take off my jacket.
I walked into the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror for a second.
──What a night. ──
I walked back out while taking off my jacket.
I dropped it onto the chair.
Then I looked up.
And froze.
Someone was standing in front of my board.
My room.
In front of my board.
The same board covered in pictures of Spider-Man, newspapers, and theories about his identity.
The boy from the store.
The boy from the subway.
The boy who had been following me.
He was standing just a few steps away from my board, looking at the photographs.
My brain took far too long to process what I was seeing. How had he gotten in? Why was he here? How had he managed to get all the way to my room? And, above all, why was he looking at my board?
I stood completely still.
For a few seconds, neither of us said anything.
The boy slowly raised his head.
Our eyes met.
And this time, there were no people around.
There was no subway car between us.
There was no store.
There was no excuse to pretend this was a coincidence.
A word slipped from my lips.
──Ah... ──