Page 40 of All Superheroes Need PR
Margerie returns the stare with one of her own but shakes her head. “Tempting, but this is a work call. Good thing we left all this set up.” She gestures to the dining room table.
“Did you let the rest of the team know?” I ask her.
She nods as she takes her seat at the dining table. “They know, but I am trying to convince them to sleep and not watch the TV so, after we work all night, they can take over in the morning. You want me to start with a few graphics or the press release?”
“I’ve already got a few words written. Let me finish what I’ve got in the next few minutes, and I can send it to you. We might be able to get this out in the next hour.”
“Boys, let me know as soon as the news breaks that he’s on-site, and I’ll start hitting socials hard,” Margerie says.
“Monika won’t be there for a few more hours.”
“You got Monika on-site?” Margerie asks, wide-eyed.
I nod, feeling excitement bubble. “She got on the flight with COE security.”
Margerie pumps her fist. “Score!”
It takes another hour before Luca jumps out of his chair. “It’s happening! Can I post now?”
“Shush!” Margerie, my brothers, and I all yell.
“Breaking news!” the48 Todayreporter all but shouts. It’s a new reporter this time. A man, and he’s clearly freaking out. “We have just learned that a new Champion is going to attempt to extract the remaining emergency personnel and civilians. As the world’s newest Champion, we can only ask ourselves if he will be up for the task or if this will be another dumpster fire, so to speak. I’ve got word that the Wyvern is here. He’s ...”
The reporter lifts his hand to his ear, his dark skin reflecting the light from the camera while the world behind him has turned to pitch. “It ... it seems like, even though the Wyvern has only just arrived, he’s already saved a life. I repeat, the Wyvern has already saved a human life!”
Margerie just about falls out of my dining room chair in her haste to scramble back into the living room. She shoves Charlie’s arm, which he happily lifts, along with my legs. She slides between us, dressed in the same outfit she left my house in earlier, only she’s shed the jacket. The Margerie equivalent of a corporate suit loosening their tie.
“Holy shit. We need Monika’s eyes. Where are the eyes?!” Her fingers are flying over her phone. My fingers are flying over my keyboard. I send off the press release and grab my phone and toss it to Luca.
“Luca, take our picture. Are all of you okay being online?”
“Hey, I want to be in the pic,” Luca complains as he snaps a few shots anyway.
“I’ll credit you as the photographer,” I say as he hands the phone back. It didn’t take much staging. All of us in the room look utterly enrapt, the light from the TV reflecting off our faces, off my cheeks. Luca did a good job. He got my ankle brace and all of my brothersand Margerie on-screen. He took another picture, too, this one from the back, so you can see the TV and the breaking news banner shifting across it.The Wyvern saves life in avalanche.
“There!” Margerie shouts, bouncing in her seat, shaking my legs with every move. She’s pointing at the screen, one hand on Charlie’s knee. His expression is ... cute. He looks shocked but maybe even a little smitten too.
Charlie knows Margerie; they’ve met before. He was surprised when I told him she was a trans woman, but it didn’t change the way he looked at her. Not one bit. Charlie’s a catch. All my brothers are. Charlie’s just ... picky. But if Margerie’s what he wants, well ... despite what I might have told the Wyvern last time I saw him, I love love. I just ... love it for other people.
“Oh my gosh, are you looking, Vanessa?” She bounces in her seat again and whips her head to look at Charlie. She stills, then looks down at her hand on his leg, an awkward and loud laugh bursting out of her. “Oh my gosh. Sorry, Charlie. I’m just excited.”
“No problem. You can put your hand wherever you want.”
“Eww! Charles Benedict Theriot, I am sitting right here!” I shout, my head thrown back in laughter while my brothers all throw couch pillows at him.
Margerie elbows him in the side and removes her hand from his leg to point back at the screen. “Seriously, y’all. Look!”
“... where the Wyvern,” the reporter says, placing emphasis on Roland’sChampionname in a way that sends electricity shooting through to the tips of my toes, “has managed to rescue eight of the eighteen trapped workers in minutes. Let’s take a look. Our cameraman has been granted permission to get closer, and you can see here ...” An image appears on the screen, blurry and a little distorted by the snow and the darkness, but the outline of his back is clear. He’s ... he’s not wearing a shirt.
“Isn’t it freezing?” Mani says.
David slaps him upside the head. “He’s made out of fire, moron,” he says in Spanish, loud and slow enough that I actually understand him. “Isn’t that right, Vanny?” He switches to English when he speaks to me.
I nod but can’t respond. My fingers are pressed to my lips, and I’m sweating. “I hope he’ll be okay ...”
“He’s clearly okay. He’s crushing it!” Margerie’s legs are bouncing. Charlie reaches over to her and holds one down.
“You’re gonna knock my beer outta my hand bouncing like that.”
