I didn't get to go to the cemetery to visit my parents' graves, not until the next evening.

Not when I received a new notification on the band around my arm, right as I was making my way out of that dirty, old alleyway. And when I saw who it was from, I knew I couldn't sneak away just yet.

When I reached the Agency, I was forced to meet up with Orias way before I could've gone to the infirmary to get my shoulder checked. Which, now that I was walking again, hurt like a literal bitch.

"Something's wrong with my shoulder," I groaned, looking up at River as he stood before the common room doors.

He grinned at me. River was someone I had been familiar with ever since I was a child, ever since the Agency and Orias took me in. He was like a big brother to me. And I could always count on him when I fucked things up. Like that time I'd accidentally started a whole forest fire to somehow defeat Ice Phantom.

I had received only two things from that incident. One, Ice Phantom had a real fear of fire. And two, my nickname--Cinder Girl.

"Ah, the fall." River nodded, running a hand through his hair. A shade so vibrantly blue, I liked it. "It's already on the news. Didn't look decent."

"You think?" I groaned again. "He pushed me down an eight-storey building."

"And you were expecting something else?" He cocked his head to the side, gaze questioning.

I hadn't. If there was any chance for him to push me off a building, I knew Ice Phantom would take it over anything. No wonder they called us each other's nemesis now and then.

"You should go in." River broke me out of my thoughts. "Orias has been waiting for a while. You know how he gets when someone keeps him waiting."

I grimaced and tried straightening my back, only to wince when my shoulder pulsed in pain again.

"I'll make sure Jade is free so you can get your shoulder checked." He nudged his head towards my shoulder, gave me another one of his grins, and left.

I sighed and pushed open the doors, ready to face Orias. And like I had expected, he wasn't happy with me that I'd let Ice Phantom go away just like that, even when it had been quite the opposite.

"Ever since you started that college of yours, you've been lagging on your training, Seven." Orias's steely gaze swept over me and I froze a little in my position. "All of those bystanders, even that stupid reporter saw you failing in front of that...that lousy excuse of a person."

The fact that he was calling me Seven--numbers he kept for his recruits--told me he was plenty annoyed with me. My eyes kept darting from him, as he paced, to my black boots.

"I'm sorry. I was just...just a little distracted." I murmured quietly. I hated disappointing him. Out of everyone in the Agency, Orias has always treated me like his own. Like family. There were my dead parents, the graves, the lone photograph of them I had with me, but they had never felt like my parents or my family. Orias was my family. He'd been there for me through it all, ever since I was a kid. And disappointing him pained me. More so than anything else.

"What could you possibly be distracted about when thousands of innocent lives were at stake?" His voice boomed all around us, bouncing off the common room walls.

I glanced up at him, swallowed and told myself not to shrink away. "I...there was...it was...you know..." I trailed off, biting my tongue when no proper sentence came out of my lips.

"Use your words, Seven!" He shouted. I flinched.

"My parents." I blurted out, crossing my arms and gritting my teeth at the pain that shot up my neck. "I needed to go to the cemetery. It's the...it was the 3rd. I just...couldn't find the time and I feel horrible when I don't visit them."

Orias's frown softened as seconds ticked by and when he sighed, I did too--more so in relief. He had always respected my decision to visit my parents' graves even when I remembered nothing about them. Orias had known them, though. I remembered him telling me countless times how well knew my Dad. They'd been close friends. And my parents' death had been as equally devastating for him as it would've been for me if he hadn't taken me under his care.

They'd died in a house fire, my parents. A tragic, tragic accident. And you were their little starlight, Orias used to tell me. They'd loved me more than anything, and not because I was some hero, or because I ran around the city making sure the crimes were put to justice. No, they loved me for me. And how horrible was it that I didn't even remember it--the green of my mum's eyes, or my dad's dimples when he smiled, or the love they carried for me?

It was just Orias apart from my parents who loved me for me--the only connection I had to my parents. Orias, who made me a better person than the one I would've become if I was left alone after my parents' death. He gave me a life.

The Agency. These people were my family.

"You can visit the cemetery later," Orias said, stuffing his hands in his black coat pockets. He looked like he was going somewhere. I wasn't stupid enough to ask where. "What you are going to do is get yourself checked in the infirmary. I can see your shoulder's hurting." I could've kissed his feet with the relief I felt at that moment. "And then you're going to schedule your training with River thrice a week. You're going to figure out a way to stop Ice Phantom from planting that bomb and you're going to figure out his next plans."

I licked my chapped lips, knowing that I must've paled a little then. If Orias noticed, his expression didn't waver.

I wanted to tell him that it wasn't possible to train thrice a week. I had my job. I had college. My roommate might start getting suspicious that I spent most of my time out doing God knows what. My best friend too.

But that's not what I said to him.

"All right." I nodded. Then nodded again for some deep measure. I was not going to let him down. "I'll...I'll do as you said."

Later as hours passed by and I got Jade--the nicest medic in the department--to check on my shoulder, it was somewhere around dusk when I left the heavily guarded building. And then I started making my way towards my 4-month-old apartment, clad in some random sweatshirt and jeans I had stored in the Agency building for emergency use, and my hair up in a ponytail.

Although this way I looked not exactly similar to the city's famous Cinder Girl, I still sometimes grew cautious if someone stared at me for too long. One slip up and they'd know who I really was. I didn't want that. This, this life where I was just an ordinary girl, was too precious to me to give up. The only normal I had. I liked it. Orias didn't understand what I liked about it when I could continue spending my time at the Agency, having everything I needed right there. But I suppose he never would. He was the Agency. He didn't understand what life outside it was like.

It was free of stares and camera flashes and questioning--sometimes fearful--glances. You could be whoever you want that way. I liked to be the girl everyone only knew as Dahlia Winters--the college kid who studied Creative Writing--the kid who had a job in the local town library--the girl who wasn't something big. Just a random girl.

And there was just my tied-up hair and the absence of my dull contact lenses that separated me from her. From Cinder Girl.

I sighed and pushed up my glasses on my nose as I saw the familiar, slightly old apartment building nearing me.

I still owed my parents a visit.

But I also owed myself some sleep.

And it clearly wasn't a choice when I pulled out my house keys from my pocket and opened the apartment door.

It was empty inside. No signs of my roommate. I closed the door behind me, locked it too, and made my way inside. The usual routine ensued. I checked the windows, made sure they were locked and started making my way towards my bedroom. Except that since I was a little too tired today and my shoulder felt numb with whatever Jade had put on it, I stumbled towards the living room couch and plopped down on it face-first.

I just about managed to pull off my glasses before they got smashed beneath my face.

And then I--not so gracefully--was snoring away.

• • •

I woke up with a jerk, alarmed when the sound of the coffeemaker buzzing freaked me the fuck out.

Flailing my arms around, I sat up and started registering the things around me. First, the couch. Second, the grey duvet from my bedroom draped over me, which I did not remember dragging out here. Third, the bruise on my shoulder that still hurt like a bitch, but a bit lesser now. And fourth, the time ticking on the wall clock right in front of me.

My vision was blurry until I successfully put on my maroon-rimmed glasses.

And then every bit of my exhaustion left the goddamn country when I realized I was five whole minutes late to my first class.

"Holy shit." I hopped up from the couch, my quick reflexes the only thing helping me out of the duvet that was now tangled around my legs, and rushed inside my room.

The next few minutes went by in a hurry. I had run around the whole apartment (twice) by the time I stopped near the kitchen island, picking up my bag and dumping out everything from inside it.

"Jimmy, you could've woken me up, you know!" I exclaimed, still rummaging around in my bag, while my roommate was too busy making himself a cup of coffee.

When I glanced up at him, he was leaning against the counter behind him, eyeing me over the rim of his cup. Those goddamn blue eyes, I swore in my head. Not what I need right now.

He didn't say anything. Which wasn't a surprise since he never actually talked. In all the four months I had spent in this apartment, he never talked to me. The only time I'd ever heard him talk was to the landlord.

"Never mind. Who cares about me anyway," I continued grumbling, trying to find my journal within the mess I now had sprawled all over the counter. "This is the fourth time I'll be late to class. If she kicks me out...I am not giving up my favourite class without a fight. Aha!" I raised my journal, relieved, and clutched it to my chest. "Found it. Now I need to run. I can still make it in...five minutes, yes. Beth won't kick me out because I'm her favourite student. I know I am. She might...wait, is it the conference day today?"

I looked up at my roommate, hoping he'd somehow help me remember. But all he did was regard me with one of his blank stares, drain his cup of coffee, and place it rather carefully back in the sink. I watched as he turned his back towards me. I watched the way his back muscles flexed under the thin grey tee he wore as he washed the mug. I watched without a care in the world.

Staring, I reminded myself. Don't stare, Dahlia. But was it my fault that I ended up with one of the hottest-looking roommates out there? And how was he not freezing his ass off in just that T-shirt? I surely was, and I had two tees, a flannel, and a sweatshirt on.

I looked away then. "Whatever, Jimmy. When were you ever a help." Then I realized I was being mean for absolutely no reason. And to my roommate whose mere bedhead got me weak in the knees? Just because I got up late, and I was all to be blamed for that, doesn't mean I could take my frustration out on someone else.

"Sorry," I said. "That was rude of me."

And then I was stuffing everything back inside my bag, cussing a little more like the sailor I sometimes turned into, pulling onto my socks and wrapping a grey scarf around my neck at the same time. I was out--nearly out--when I remembered that I had a jacket to fetch.

One, if you lived in Arcanus City, you should never forget a jacket. The weather got unpredictably cold here. Two, if you lived as a vigilante half of the day with no powers to protect you, you'd also need a...well, jacket. Or else there'll be a hell lot of questions about the random bruises you've got here and there. I would know.

Perhaps I didn't need a jacket today, not on top of the many layers I was already wearing, but I still wasn't risking it.

The exact moment I turned back around from the front door, I almost slammed into Jimmy--only if he hadn't pulled back an inch at the very last moment.

"What--" I trailed off when I noticed he was holding out my jacket towards me.

I eyed him cautiously (he was a good five inches taller than me), took my jacket from his hand, then passed him a grateful smile. "Thanks, Jim."

Then he did something unexpected to my poor, already stressed heart. His lips tugged a little at one corner, giving me a small smile back. "Did it ever occur to you to ask me my real name?"

All right, so maybe I was exaggerating a little back there. My roommate did talk sometimes. Barely.

"Well," I spoke up, hurriedly putting on my jacket. "You do look like a Jimmy. And you never really correct me."

He raised a dark brow and my heart skipped a beat. I coughed.

"I'll...uh...take you up on the offer when I get the time." I rushed it out. "Ask you for your name, I mean. But I really, really need to dash right now." Then as I opened the front door again and stepped out, I called out over my shoulder, "See you later, Jimmy!"

And then I was sprinting the rest of the way, hoping to dear Lord that today wouldn't be the day I get kicked out of class.