Mecha-Boy was no more.. He was done with the whole hero business. Close by, about 10 miles away, a massive robot was terrorizing the town of Ferriswood, destroying building and killing civilians. But instead of being out there, fighting the abomination, Fantastic Boy was siting in outside near a drugstore, slumped on a wall, trying to calm down.
It had been a particularly bad day for his alter ego, Philip Trevis. 17 year old Philip had never been a popular kid, which suited his superhero career just fine. Blending in meant no one ever noticed him. But sadly, high school is high school, and Philip, being at the bottom of the popularity totem, was bullied constantly. Called named. Talked about behind his back, when people thought he couldn't hear. Shoved in the halls. Disliked by teachers because he never talked in class. Usually, Philip endured this because he knew that he had a alternative life to look forward to. If he could just make it to the end of the day, life would improve and he'd be adored by millions of fans.....
Philip's thoughts were interrupted when he saw a man in a red and black leotard run up to him. This was Quickster, a hero famed for his speed, and was a good friend of Philip. "Mecha-Boy, where have you been? The league has been calling you for the past hour! We need your help, there's a rampa-" "<censored> off Quickster. I'm done being a hero." Quickster looked at Philip, only just now noticing the despair riddled face of his friend. "Mecha-Boy, what's..." Quickster started, but was interrupted by Philip once again. "Stop calling me that." Quickster sighed sat down. The robot could wait.
"Hey man, what's wrong?" Quickster asked. It took a while for Philip to respond. Eventually, he asked, "what's the point? Of what we do? We risk our lives for these ungrateful bastards. All I ever wanted to do was help people, and they take it for granted. I'm done being humiliated, harassed, and insulted, only to be expected to help them as soon as the <censored> hits the fan." Quickster racked his brain, trying to think of the right thing to say. "Well...sure, people can be brutal to heroes sometimes, but it's part of the job. So what if they don't always treat us like heroes, we can still-" Philip got up and looked Quickster in the eye. "I DONT ASK TO BE TREATED LIKE A HERO, I JUST ASK TO HAVE THE SAME BASIC RESPECT ANY <censored> HUMAN BEING WOULD GET!" he shouted. Quickster apperently thought the issue had to do with the hero life, not his personal life, because he responded with "They don't see us like that though. To them, we aren't human beings, we're gods in their eyes. People will always be afraid of things they don't understand."
As these words registered with Philip, he had flashbacks from earlier today. He vaguely remembered it being an amazing day early on. He asked out his crush, and to Philip's surprise, the crush said yes. They even kissed. It had been amazing....unfortunately, they weren't alone when they kissed. And soon word spread that quiet little Philip, the kid everyone picked on, was homosexual. Eventually, the teasing turned into harassment, and Philip's crush eventually made a very public scene where he cursed out Philip for trying to kiss him, and laughed at him, saying he would never go out with a fag like him. At this rejection, Philip finally snapped...he ran away and had been crying near this drugstore all afternoon. He couldn't pinpoint the time in which he decided he couldn't be a superhero, all he knew was that the thought had consumed him ever since. How could he ever be the champion of the very people he despised?
Philip stopped thinking of the memory. It was still too painful..."you're right Quickster. They don't understand me." Quickster looked at his friend with a worried face. "Hey man, it's fine if they don't. We'll always have each other. We have our friends at the league. We-" Quickster once again was interrupted, this time by a bullet. Quickster looked at his throat, where he had been shot. He turned towards Philip, holding a gun. Philip smiled for the first time all afternoon. "I'm sorry friend. But I can't risk you stopping my robot." Quickster, choking on his blood, widened his eyes at Philip. "Oh yes, that's my robot by the way. I'm surprised the league is too dense to realize it. For God's sake, my name was Mecha-Boy." Quickster slumped over, dead to the world. "These people don't deserve heroes. They don't deserve us. " Philip muttered to Quickster's still bleeding corpse. And with this final words spoken to an audience that will never be able to repeat them, he walked away. After all, he still had the rest of the league in his way before he could set his sights on humanity.
It had been a particularly bad day for his alter ego, Philip Trevis. 17 year old Philip had never been a popular kid, which suited his superhero career just fine. Blending in meant no one ever noticed him. But sadly, high school is high school, and Philip, being at the bottom of the popularity totem, was bullied constantly. Called named. Talked about behind his back, when people thought he couldn't hear. Shoved in the halls. Disliked by teachers because he never talked in class. Usually, Philip endured this because he knew that he had a alternative life to look forward to. If he could just make it to the end of the day, life would improve and he'd be adored by millions of fans.....
Philip's thoughts were interrupted when he saw a man in a red and black leotard run up to him. This was Quickster, a hero famed for his speed, and was a good friend of Philip. "Mecha-Boy, where have you been? The league has been calling you for the past hour! We need your help, there's a rampa-" "<censored> off Quickster. I'm done being a hero." Quickster looked at Philip, only just now noticing the despair riddled face of his friend. "Mecha-Boy, what's..." Quickster started, but was interrupted by Philip once again. "Stop calling me that." Quickster sighed sat down. The robot could wait.
"Hey man, what's wrong?" Quickster asked. It took a while for Philip to respond. Eventually, he asked, "what's the point? Of what we do? We risk our lives for these ungrateful bastards. All I ever wanted to do was help people, and they take it for granted. I'm done being humiliated, harassed, and insulted, only to be expected to help them as soon as the <censored> hits the fan." Quickster racked his brain, trying to think of the right thing to say. "Well...sure, people can be brutal to heroes sometimes, but it's part of the job. So what if they don't always treat us like heroes, we can still-" Philip got up and looked Quickster in the eye. "I DONT ASK TO BE TREATED LIKE A HERO, I JUST ASK TO HAVE THE SAME BASIC RESPECT ANY <censored> HUMAN BEING WOULD GET!" he shouted. Quickster apperently thought the issue had to do with the hero life, not his personal life, because he responded with "They don't see us like that though. To them, we aren't human beings, we're gods in their eyes. People will always be afraid of things they don't understand."
As these words registered with Philip, he had flashbacks from earlier today. He vaguely remembered it being an amazing day early on. He asked out his crush, and to Philip's surprise, the crush said yes. They even kissed. It had been amazing....unfortunately, they weren't alone when they kissed. And soon word spread that quiet little Philip, the kid everyone picked on, was homosexual. Eventually, the teasing turned into harassment, and Philip's crush eventually made a very public scene where he cursed out Philip for trying to kiss him, and laughed at him, saying he would never go out with a fag like him. At this rejection, Philip finally snapped...he ran away and had been crying near this drugstore all afternoon. He couldn't pinpoint the time in which he decided he couldn't be a superhero, all he knew was that the thought had consumed him ever since. How could he ever be the champion of the very people he despised?
Philip stopped thinking of the memory. It was still too painful..."you're right Quickster. They don't understand me." Quickster looked at his friend with a worried face. "Hey man, it's fine if they don't. We'll always have each other. We have our friends at the league. We-" Quickster once again was interrupted, this time by a bullet. Quickster looked at his throat, where he had been shot. He turned towards Philip, holding a gun. Philip smiled for the first time all afternoon. "I'm sorry friend. But I can't risk you stopping my robot." Quickster, choking on his blood, widened his eyes at Philip. "Oh yes, that's my robot by the way. I'm surprised the league is too dense to realize it. For God's sake, my name was Mecha-Boy." Quickster slumped over, dead to the world. "These people don't deserve heroes. They don't deserve us. " Philip muttered to Quickster's still bleeding corpse. And with this final words spoken to an audience that will never be able to repeat them, he walked away. After all, he still had the rest of the league in his way before he could set his sights on humanity.
