chapter 31: rehearsal

Mika POV:

Andrew arrived ten minutes late, his footsteps echoing through the Man's Nest as he walked in. "You're late," I said, not bothering to hide my disapproval.

"Yeah, I'm sorry," he responded quickly. "My mom just got back from her business trip, and I had to drop off my little sister."

I nodded, accepting the excuse but keeping my tone formal. "Alright, but don't come late again."

He still saw me as ShoutOut and not as Mika—there was a certain stiffness in the way he addressed me, as if he was still trying to figure out how to act around me. But that was fine; I needed him to focus right now.

"So, the results have shown a few unexpected things," I began, diving straight into business.

"Negative?" Andrew asked, his brow furrowing.

"Not necessarily," I replied. "Like I said before, your healing powers are not fully developed. They have to be trained so you can gain control over them now that you've realized you have them. But before I tell you about your other powers, I'm going to walk you through an exercise to help activate them."

"Oh, and you can't tell me what they are or else they might not work the first time?" Andrew guessed.

"Exactly," I confirmed, impressed by his quick thinking. "Now, put your hand a few inches from my mouth."

"What?" Andrew looked confused.

"Don't ask questions," I said firmly.

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, raising his hand to hover near my mouth.

"Now focus and try reaching for something," I instructed.

"For what exactly?" he asked, still unsure.

"Anything," I said, not giving him much more to go on.

He hesitated for a moment but then closed his eyes and focused. "Yeah, I feel something, some sort of energy source," he said after a few seconds.

"Great, now can you reach for it and grab the energy?" I guided him, feeling a slight tingle as he began to connect with my powers.

"I'll try," he replied, and I felt the slow pull of energy leaving my body. It was a long process, and the further it went, the dizzier I started to feel.

"I think I've got it," Andrew said, sounding more confident.

"Hold up, are you okay?" he asked, concern creeping into his voice as he opened his eyes and saw my condition.

"Yeah, sure, now put the energy back," I tried to say, but I felt my knees buckle as everything went dark.

When I came to, Andrew was hovering over me, calling my real name. "Mika, come back, please," he shouted, panic evident in his voice.

I groaned, putting a hand to my head as I sat up. Andrew quickly sat back, giving me space but still looking worried.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked.

"You know my identity," I said, more of a statement than a question.

"Uhm, yeah, I'm so sorry. I was just in shock and couldn't call you ShoutOut anymore. And I want to apologize, Mika, for everything I did to you, even now," he said, his words tumbling out in a rush.

"Save that for later," I said, trying to regain my composure. "I'm not Mika right now. I'm your trainer. Do you still feel the energy in your hand?"

"Uhm, yeah, I do," he replied, glancing down at his hand like he wasn't sure what to do with it.

I stood up and attempted to use my powers, but nothing happened. "Do I have power absorption?" Andrew asked, putting the pieces together.

"Yes, you do," I confirmed. "Now try using the energy that's inside of you."

He concentrated, trying to access the powers he'd absorbed, but nothing worked. "Okay, so we can conclude you can absorb powers but not use them. Can you try giving them back to me?" I instructed.

"Alright, I'll try," he said, placing his hand in front of my mouth again. He focused, and I felt my powers returning, the dizziness fading as they flowed back into me.

"Did I do it?" he asked.

"Only one way to find out," I said and used my powers. They worked perfectly.

"Do I always have to absorb them from the mouth?" Andrew asked, still processing everything.

"No, you have to absorb them from the source, which is my mouth in this case. But for someone like Awol, it could be his fist," I explained. Andrew nodded, finally understanding how his powers worked.

"Why did you pass out, though?" Andrew asked, still concerned.

"I guess it's because you used a lot of your focus for the first time, which caused a heavy energy transfer. I was already feeling a little lightheaded, and all of that together probably caused me to faint," I concluded.

"Oh, are you okay now?" he asked again.

"Yeah, I am. Thank you," I said, genuinely appreciating his concern.

"Mika..." he started, hesitating.

"Yes?" I prompted, keeping my tone neutral.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry, and I know my actions have consequences, and I can't expect forgiveness from you, but I want you to know I'm sorry, okay?" Andrew said, his voice full of sincerity.

"It's all good. It's in the past, and we're not there anymore. I just needed you to realize it wasn't something you could do. But now I've seen you've changed, and you don't think about it like that anymore, which was my goal," I explained.

"Thank you," Andrew said slowly, relief washing over his face.

"I still won't forgive you, and you're still very annoying," I added quickly, not wanting him to think he was off the hook entirely.

"I get it," he said with a small smile, appreciating the honesty.

"I'll see you tomorrow, right? You're one of our new models, I heard," Andrew said, trying to shift the conversation to lighter topics.

"Yeah, I'll be at the rehearsals around 2," I confirmed.

"Great. Goodbye, and again, thank you," he said before walking away, leaving me alone in the Man's Nest, finally feeling like we'd both made some progress.

Andrew POV:

I walked into the big hall where the rehearsals were set to take place. It was Monday, 1:56 pm, and six of the models had already arrived. The stylist had everything arranged meticulously behind the scenes—each dressing room had been assigned, and the outfits were carefully laid out. A sheet of paper taped to the door to the stage listed the order in which each model would present.

But despite the preparations and the ticking clock, my attention was solely on the one model who had yet to arrive—Mika. I was trying to be patient, but my restless energy betrayed me. Then, just as the clock struck 2 pm, Mika walked in, right on time.

"Hey, everyone," she greeted the room, her voice calm but warm.

I quickly stepped forward. "Hey, Mika. Everyone, this is Mika, she'll be modeling for this season's collection."

As soon as I introduced her, I heard the muttered comments from a few of the other models. "Can she even model? She's so short. And she's so fat for a model."

I saw the discomfort flash across Mika's face. Anger flared in me—how could they be so petty?

"Another word about her and you're out," I snapped, my voice icy. "I chose her myself, and you all had to perform perfectly to be chosen, which makes her automatically better than you."

There was a murmur of surprise among the models. One of them, a little taken aback, said, "We didn't know you chose her."

"Well, now you do. So stop talking and walk with me," I commanded, my tone leaving no room for argument.

Mika smiled at me, a silent thank you in her eyes. It was a small moment, but it felt like a significant shift. After giving the rest of the instructions, I led the models to their respective dressing rooms, each with their names on the doors. Within a few minutes, everyone was ready to begin.

"Okay, so on the door is the order of each model to go on stage. Your outfits are ready in your dressing rooms," I instructed before heading back to the hall to observe from the audience.

Stacy, the fashion department manager, walked up to me as I watched the models prepare. "Those girls are somewhat," she said, shaking her head slightly.

"They need manners," I replied, still irritated by their earlier behavior.

"They're all head over heels for you, so whatever you say to them will happen," Stacy remarked with a knowing smile.

I couldn't help but laugh at that. "How's Mika doing in there? Are they still talking down to her?" I asked, trying to keep my concern casual.

"No, they're quiet now. I told you they'd listen to you," Stacy said.

"Stop, they might have a pretty face and extremely skinny bodies, but they lack intelligence and depth," I said, my voice tinged with frustration.

"Mika doesn't seem to lack those two things," Stacy observed.

"She doesn't, and that's another reason why I chose her," I agreed as the first model, Madeline, stepped out.

Madeline was one of the quieter, nicer ones and hadn't said anything negative about Mika. She posed at the front, her expression professional and poised. Then Ariana, one of the meaner ones, walked up, positioning herself for her turn as Madeline posed. Stacy leaned in and whispered, "She's one of the girls who's head over heels for you."

I nodded, not surprised but uninterested. My focus shifted as Zoe, another one of the critical ones, took her place. I felt a twinge of excitement—Mika would be up next. And then, just as I expected, Mika stepped onto the stage, and my breath caught.

She was wearing a stunning light blue dress, adorned with golden diamond patterns that shimmered under the lights. The dress was short, perhaps a little too short, I thought, but it flattered her figure perfectly. Her high dark blue heels, also embellished with golden diamonds, added to the elegance. Her hair was styled in a high ponytail, curls cascading down, tied with a light blue ribbon that matched her dress. The transparent dark blue sleeves gave the dress a luxurious vibe, and the off-shoulder cut showed just enough to be enticing but still classy. Gold earrings, rings, bracelets, and a delicate necklace completed her look. She was beautiful—more than beautiful, and I knew I shouldn't be thinking that after everything that had happened between us. But I couldn't help it.

Before I knew it, Mika was off the stage, and I found myself eagerly waiting for her next appearance. There were five more models to go, but they all blurred together as I anticipated seeing Mika again.

And then she returned, this time in a darker pink dress with large, overlapping purple, orange, and yellow flowers. The flowers were an additional layer of transparent textile, creating a 3D effect that was both artistic and visually captivating. Her heels matched, dark pink with flower designs along the borders. Her hair was styled in a bun, with a few curls left loose at the front, softening the look. She wore beautiful flower-shaped earrings and had a large flower pinned in her hair. She looked radiant, and I couldn't take my eyes off her.

Finally, her last outfit: a breathtaking emerald green dress with golden transparent textiles cascading down like streams of light. When I first saw a student working on this dress, I wasn't sure it would turn out well, but now, seeing it on Mika, it was clear—it was perfection. The way it fit her, the way it flowed—it was everything I'd hoped for in this collection and more. And knowing that Mika was the one wearing it made me... happy. Happier than I'd felt in a long time.

After a couple of hours of rehearsing, I called it a day. "We're done for now," I announced. "Be here tomorrow at 10 am."

As the models changed back into their regular clothes, I stayed behind, jotting down some critique points for tomorrow's rehearsal. I was deep in thought when Mika walked up to me.

"So... what are you writing?" she asked, her curiosity evident.

"Just some tips and notes for everyone," I replied without looking up. "We'll rehearse tomorrow, and I'll point everything out."

"I probably got the most," she muttered, almost to herself.

"Mika, you're good at everything, and you know it. Why so insecure all of a sudden?" I asked, genuinely confused.

"Nothing... So, do I have the most critical points?" she asked, trying to peek at my notes.

I quickly pulled them away. "No, actually, you have the fewest."

"You're joking. The other girls were perfect—what could they do better?" she asked, disbelief in her voice.

"Their personality," I said bluntly.

Mika laughed, a real, genuine laugh. It was the first time I'd seen her laugh at something I'd said in a long time. Normally, she was like the sun—always bright, always shining. But when she was around me, it was like the clouds would roll in. Seeing her laugh was... nice.

"Thank you for defending me. I appreciate it," she said, her voice soft.

"It's no problem," I replied, brushing it off as no big deal.

We said our goodbyes, and she left. I watched her walk away before heading back to my office to finish some work. There was still the matter of choosing the lucky students for the trip to Italy. Bose had come by earlier that morning to say we had to move the trip to Saturday instead of Thursday. I'd already emailed every student about the change, and now it was time to select the ones who would go.

I spun the random name picker on my computer for each department. From the Cooking department, it landed on Mandy Jones, Tim Stone, and Alex Diaz. For the Fashion department, Carl Clifford, Tara Hargrove, and Molly Thompson. From the Art department, David Owens, Olivia Grimm, and Riley Gallagher. After selecting a few more, I started drafting emails to inform the lucky students.

As I opened my inbox, I saw an email from Riley Gallagher, saying she couldn't make the trip if it was moved to Saturday. That meant I had to spin the wheel again. This time, it landed on Chapa de Silva. I smiled to myself—Bose would be happy with that.

I sent out the emails, finished my work, and left for the day, feeling lighter than I had in a long time.

Chapa POV:

Monday started off like any other day. I woke up in my apartment, not wanting to overstay my welcome at Bose's place, though part of me wished I had. I had to go to the academy anyway, so it made sense to be here. I grabbed my supplies and headed out, eager to get lost in my latest painting.

As I worked, my mind kept drifting back to yesterday's kisses with Bose. I couldn't help but smile at the memory, feeling a warmth spread through me.

"Well, this is the first time I've seen you smiling," Mia said, snapping me out of my thoughts as she pulled up a chair next to me.

"Yeah, well, tomorrow I start at George's house to get my first assignment for the painting," I replied, trying to keep my voice casual.

"Really? You're very lucky! He rarely picks out students to work for him, let alone someone new who's only had one painting at the art exhibition," Mia said, clearly impressed.

"I feel lucky," I admitted, trying not to let my excitement show too much.

Mia glanced at my canvas. "Good, so what are you currently working on?"

"Oh, I'm not sure. I always start somewhere and let my creativity decide what it's going to be," I said, shrugging.

"I love that. Sam and I were going to ask you to come with us to tomorrow's fashion show. We bought three tickets a while ago, but our other friend couldn't come with us," Mia offered.

"I'm sorry, but I don't think I can make it. It depends on what time it starts," I explained, not wanting to commit.

"It starts at 5 PM," Mia said, hopeful.

"Unless they let people in after 5, I probably can't come," I said apologetically.

Mia nodded, understanding. "I don't think they will. It would distract everyone."

"Yeah, thanks for asking me, though," I said, appreciating the offer.

"Good luck tomorrow," Mia said before walking away.

I spent a few more hours at the academy, focused on my painting, before heading home. Once there, I dropped my things, made myself some pasta, and settled in to watch a movie. My peaceful evening was interrupted by an email from Andrew, informing me that I'd been selected for the trip to Italy. I felt a surge of excitement, only to realize that I couldn't go because of Sage's birthday and my commitment to George. The disappointment hit hard, and just as I was trying to process it, there was a knock on my door.

I opened it to find a delivery man, which was odd since I hadn't ordered anything. Before I could question him, he pulled out a weapon and tried to shoot me. I dodged just in time, my instincts kicking in.

"Where's Awol?!" he demanded, storming into my apartment.

"Awol?! Why?" I shouted, feigning ignorance.

"I saw you with him a few weeks ago, fighting a villain. You were talking to him and then helping Brainstorm," he said, grabbing my shirt and shaking me. "I followed you afterward and saw you come here. I've been watching Awol ever since, but after he escaped me, I knew I had to come after you."

"I don't know him. I was just there at the restaurant and helped out. That's all," I said as calmly as I could. I wasn't scared of this guy—I could zap him and end this—but I needed to protect my identity. I had to think fast.

He pressed his weapon against my head. "Tell me where he is, or I'll shoot you in the face," he threatened.

"He just teleported behind you," I bluffed, quickly using my powers to turn off the lights. In the darkness, I zapped him before he could react. The lights flickered back on, and he was passed out on the floor.

"Guess I wasn't much use," Bose said, suddenly appearing in his Brainstorm uniform at the door.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, surprised.

Instead of answering, he walked up to me and pulled me into a hug. "You okay? I saw him pointing a gun at your head. I had to transform, but by the time I got back, you'd already handled it," he said, concern in his voice.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Don't worry," I said with a small smile.

"What did he want?" Bose asked, pulling back to look at me.

"He wanted to know where Awol lives," I said, rolling my eyes at the absurdity.

"And did you tell him?" Bose asked, smirking.

"What do you think? Of course not," I said, giving him a playful nudge.

Just then, my neighbor Gio appeared in the doorway, his eyes wide as he saw me with Brainstorm. "What's happening? Brainstorm?! What are you doing here? And why are you two hugging? No way... Chapa, you're that girl who was on the news with him like a decade ago. I knew you looked familiar," Gio said, excitement bubbling up.

"Sir, this man attacked this citizen, and I came here to take care of it. Now, I asked if she was okay, and she is. You may go," Bose said firmly, trying to deflect Gio's attention.

"I'm pretty sure I took care of it," I said, emphasizing the "I".

"Yeah right, that wasn't just asking if she was okay. You two are dating again? Or still dating?" Gio said, clearly thrilled by his discovery.

"Sir, I'm a superhero, and this lady is a citizen. It's none of your business," Bose said, his tone becoming more serious.

"So that's a yes," Gio said, pulling out his phone to take a picture.

"Gio, no!" I shouted, but it was too late. He snapped the photo, grinning like he'd won the lottery. "I'm going to go viral with this!"

"We'll catch up later, Chapa. See you later," he said, heading back to his apartment, leaving me fuming.

I put my hand on my head, sighing heavily. "It's not that bad, right?" Bose asked, putting a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

"He's a journalist," I said, my voice full of dread.

"Oh... well, I mean, it won't be fake news," Bose said, trying to lighten the mood.

"You're not helping," I said, feeling the weight of the situation.

"Sorry," Bose said, looking genuinely apologetic.

"It's okay. This will blow over soon, hopefully," I said, though I wasn't so sure.

"Hopefully? Why?" Bose asked, sounding disappointed.

"Because if we want to announce our relationship as Bose and Chapa, people will think I'm cheating on you with Brainstorm or cheating on Brainstorm with you! Then everything will be a mess," I explained, frustration creeping into my voice.

"I hadn't thought about it like that," Bose admitted.

"You get that man out of my apartment and take all of his weapons. I suggest calling Miles. In the meantime, I'm going to get Gio's phone," I said, determined to fix this.

"Chapa, don't kill him," Bose warned, half-joking, half-serious.

"I won't," I said, rolling my eyes.

I knocked on Gio's door, but when he didn't answer right away, I kicked it in. Gio stood there, holding his phone, a smug look on his face.

"Hey neighbor, what can I do for you?" he asked innocently.

"Give me your phone now! And delete that picture immediately," I demanded, not in the mood for games.

"That's not going to happen," Gio said, defiant.

"I'm not going to ask twice," I said, stepping closer.

"Don't come any closer, or I'll click 'post'!" he threatened, his finger hovering over the screen.

"What do you want in exchange for not posting it and deleting it?" I asked, knowing I had to play along for now.

"An interview with Brainstorm," he said, crossing his arms.

"Fine, but delete it now," I said, trying to hide my relief.

"Okay," he sighed, deleting the photo.

"Now delete it from 'recently deleted'," I said, not letting my guard down.

"Okay," he said, sighing again.

"Good. I'll get Brainstorm for you so you can have your interview," I said, turning to leave.

"Thank you," Gio said, clearly pleased with himself. "By the way, who's going to pay for my door?" he added, pointing to the broken doorframe.

"Not my problem," I said, walking away.

—

Bose handled the interview as Brainstorm, and when it was finally over, he looked relieved.

"Was it fun?" I asked, teasing him a little.

"It could've been worse. But I'd rather have been with you," he said.

"Come on, sit next to me," I said, moving to sit on my bed.

"Why were you here in the first place?" I asked, curious as he rested his head on my shoulder.

"I wanted to ask if you saw the results of the trip to Italy yet," Bose said.

"Yeah, I did, but you know I can't go," I said, feeling a pang of disappointment.

"But what if I told you the trip has been rescheduled from Saturday to Thursday? Didn't Andrew e-mail everyone about that?" he said, his excitement infectious.

"I mustn't have seen it. But I still can't. On Tuesdays, I have to work at George's, remember?" I said, hating that I had to turn him down.

"Can't you ask him for the day off? It's a trip to Italy with the academy," Bose said, giving me those irresistible puppy eyes.

"I can try tomorrow, but I can't promise anything," I said, hoping George would be understanding.

"That's fine. Oh, and what should I get for Sage's birthday on Friday?" Bose asked, clearly eager to do something special.

"Silly, you don't have to buy her anything," I said, though I secretly hoped he would.

"No, I have to. It's her birthday," Bose insisted, and I couldn't help but smile.

"She wants the newest cellphone, but I'm already giving her that one," I said, thinking about how much Sage would love that.

"If you have time, we could pick her up from school together. She'd be thrilled, and everyone else would be so jealous," I suggested, knowing it would make Sage's day.

"Yeah, let's do that," Bose agreed.

"Oh, and she would sell her soul for a ticket to Olivia Rodrigo's concert, but it's in Swellview a week after her birthday. Tickets are definitely sold out, and even if we got one, she can't go alone," I said, knowing it was a long shot.

"I can try to get two tickets, one for her and one for you," Bose offered.

"Thanks, but that's a lot of effort, and those tickets cost a fortune," I said, appreciating the thought.

"Andrew and I have some contacts. I can try to get them," Bose said.

"Thanks, Bose," I said, touched by how much he cared.

He stood up and transformed back into his casual outfit. "I should go home. Will you let me know how it goes tomorrow at George's?" he asked.

"Yeah, I will. Goodbye, Bose," I said, watching him leave. As the door closed behind him, I couldn't help but wonder what tomorrow would bring.