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If you were to ask me my opinion of myself, I'd have to say I'd always viewed myself as a pretty high-strung girl. I took life too seriously, I worried too much.

And there was only one thing that could make me slow down and relax.

That came in the form of some peach-scented candles, dim lighting, and a steaming hot bubble bath.

I grabbed my journal and dipped into the tub, allowing the hot water to caress my skin. Tying my hair up into a messy bun, I grabbed my writing journal and a black pen.

When life got too hard or something needed to be said, I'd take to the comforting and crisp lined pages of a notebook. It wasn't a diary, as what I wrote rarely deviated from fiction. Before I'd found my niche in journalism, I'd always loved creating stories. Stories about high stakes and damsels in distress. Stories about ghosts and Greek mythology. Something far away and impossible, yet so exciting to think about. The words would flow from my pen freely, and take me away as if physically transporting me to another world. It was a way to get the thoughts out of my head and turn it into something tangible.

But this time I wasn't writing fiction. Oh, no, I was writing real life. And somehow this reality was even harder to believe than anything I could've dreamed up.

One upon a time in modern-day New York, there lived a girl named Violet. On the first day of her senior year she fell off the roof of her house and was saved by an illustrious superhero clad in black leather. The world thought of him as a villain; and yet he'd saved her life and countless others.

She also met a boy named Sam, with green eyes and black hair and a flawless olive complexion. He found her smart and funny and bought her coffee and made her feel special.

And there was one more boy. A next door neighbor with gorgeous blue eyes and lips that could sink ships. He'd kissed her at a Halloween dance, and now that girl was finding it hard to focus on anything else but that boy next door...

I sighed and shut the journal, knowing that if I allowed myself to write anymore it would only be a very detailed description of that kiss in the science room. My mind was a jumbled mess of my loyalty to the Black Phoenix, as well as the fact I was technically (or was I?) dating Sam.

I sighed and stood up, toweling myself off quickly and getting changed into a pair of yoga pants and a sweater. Tonight, despite the fact it was October, a brisk chill had set into the air. Once I was finished, I stepped out onto the balcony and found my seat on the roof tiles, finding a position I thought comfortable enough to settle in for the long haul.

The evening officially hailed Halloween, and children in costumes holding candy bags chatted jovially as they made their way down the streets. Their sweet giggles filled the air, and they were completely unaware of the girl sitting on the roof above them, watching over them with a matching smile.

I'd always thought of Halloween as one of those commercialized holidays not worthy of much thought. It was just an excuse for confectionery manufacturers to earn lots of money and children to go crazy on sugar, but something about seeing the joyous atmosphere changed my mind.

There were so many genuinely happy little kids walking the streets with their close friends, snacking on candy bars and enjoying the warm night. I'd be heartless to discourage something so hopeful and festive.

There were little girls who ranged from witches to cowgirls to nurses to fairies, and boys dressed in gory makeup with lots of fake blood smeared on their innocent faces. The place was alive with festivity, and it was hard to stop that feeling from catching on.

"Enjoying yourself a little peep show?"

I jumped and looked up to see the black-clad figure standing above me, and as he carelessly made his way down the slanting roof tiles and took a seat next to me, I sighed and returned my gaze to the busy street below.

"You know, one day you're going to scare me so much that I'm going to fall off the edge of this roof again."

He laughed, a sound so rich in timbre it sent shivers down my spine. "You know I'll always catch you."

Inadvertently my eyes trailed to Colt's window, but the inside was dark. This didn't really surprise me. I had no idea where he disappeared to, but he was rarely home of an evening. Maybe he found a secret spot somewhere where he bided his time.

I pointed suddenly down below as I saw a little boy in a crude Lycra suit walking below with one of his buddies dressed as a vampire. "Look," I said. "It's you."

He looked down below and spotted the boy dressed as the superhero. He was the first one I'd seen, but considering the attention he was starting to garner for his life-saving tendencies, it was my guess that there would be little kids all over New York dressed in similar costumes. It was really beginning to catch on.

"Whoa," he murmured.

"Is it weird?" I questioned, turning to him. "To see someone who spent actual time and money on looking just like you?"

"Surreal," he admitted, nodding. "But I don't know yet if they're meant to be wearing a good or a scary costume."

"Good," I replied. "I think some people are beginning to see you for the hero you are."

"And I think I have you to thank for that," he replied. "Your article has become really popular, you know that?"

"And here I thought you were pissed at me for writing that thing."

"Oh, believe me, I am," he told me, chuckling. "But I shouldn't have yelled at you for it when you were just trying to help me. Sorry about that."

"It's okay. In hindsight I get where you're coming from," I told him. "But it's helped you, so there is a bright side. Maybe I can be your sidekick."

"I think my current sidekick may have a little problem with that," he confided, and my jaw dropped at this new piece of information.

"You have a sidekick?" I squeaked. "Tell me more."

"Can't," he told me. "Their identity is just as secret as mine. All I can say is that they're nifty at computers and look kickass in leather."

"Do you have a hideaway?" I asked. "Like a HQ?"

He laughed, and the sound reverberated warmly in the rich air. "No. However we do have headsets to communicate with each other, and that's pretty cool."

My eyes widened as a plan formed in my head. "I have an idea!"

"Why does that scare me slightly?" he asked no one in particular, but I was too busy hatching a plan.

"What if I was the one who got your story out?" I asked. "I could turn the town around, so people trusted you and thought of you as a hero. You've got someone on the technical side, but what if you had someone in PR?"

"We're not a corporation," he replied, not unkindly. "You gonna open a social media account for us, too?"

"I didn't realize super-sarcasm was one of your powers," I responded derisively. "But seriously. I could tell the world about your saves. Start up a column for you. You saw how much attention the first article I wrote got—I've already had offers to write articles to three large-scale newspapers in New York alone. I could get your story out. Like Lois Lane did."

"Except this isn't a movie," he replied, turning to me. "And you know why that's not going to work. Attract the attention of LeRuggia and you're dead."

"I'm not scared of him," I replied, keeping my chin up. "The people deserve to know the incredible things you've done."

"If you do this, you're going to become a target!" he argued, standing up in frustration and turning away. "And not just a target for LeRuggia. But for others, too. Vigilante haters or people looking for who I really am. People might think you know my true identity."

"Maybe if you tell me your true identity, we can avoid all that." It was a far leap of logic, but I really wanted to see his face; know the man behind the mask. Would I even know he was?

He shook his head. "No. That's too dangerous, Violet. I can't."

"Why not?"

"I just said, it's too dan—"

"No," I cut him off, shaking my head and standing up to face him. "It's more than that. I know it. You've shared things with me that you haven't shared with anyone in this town. You saved my life; you visit me on my roof most nights. I'm not just another life you've saved. It's me, Violet. I know most things about you. So why won't you show me who you are?"

I reached up, and my fingertips brushed his mask, which was cold and leather. I could see his pulse beating fast on his neck, and his breathing caught as I reached for the only thing concealing his identity from me. Just as I began to lift it, he turned away suddenly and moved across the tiles. "No. I can't."

"Why not?" I cried, throwing my hands up into the air exasperatedly.

"Don't you get it?" he replied, turning around to me. "I care about you, Violet. And I'd never do anything that might hurt you. And knowing who I am could change everything. I won't put you in any danger if I can avoid it. I never wanted you to get caught up in this."

"It's too late for that now," I told him, shaking my head. "I became tangled up in this the first time you ever spoke to me. There's no going back now. We are in this together, whether you like it or not. And I'm not giving up on this."

"I'm not giving you a choice," he told me steadfastly. "You have to drop this. I'll stop seeing you if that's what it takes."

"I don't get you," I replied, crossing my arms over my chest. "You act like you don't care what people think, like you don't need anyone. But I know that's not true. Everyone needs somebody. It doesn't make you vulnerable or weak. It stops you from being lonely."

"I'd rather be lonely than endanger the lives of people I care about. What I do is dangerous, Violet. I have the bulletproof skin to protect myself. You don't."

"I'm not some little girl. I'm not gonna get hurt," I argued. "I'm smart; I know how to stay safe. Just let me help you."

"I don't need help."

"You have to let someone in," I told him. "No one can keep a secret like this to themselves. They need someone to share it with."

"I have a sidekick, remember?"

I shook my head. "I understand you. I don't know how, but I do. Do they understand you? Maybe they help you, but can you honestly tell me that you feel like you can be yourself around them?"

"I..."

"I already know the answer to that, and it's no," I informed him. "Because if you were truly happy with your sidekick—if you truly felt like they understood you—you wouldn't have spoken to me in the first place. We're all looking for people to share with in this life." I grabbed his hand. "Let me in. You can trust me."

He looked away, his jaw clenching. "There's a mugging going on a few miles away from here. I gotta go."

"Of course you do," I whispered, dropping his hands and stepping back. A mixture of anger and sadness washed over me. I wanted so badly to have him trust me, but you can't force someone to tell you the truth without pushing them away. "Go. They need you more than I do."

"I'm sorry, Violet," he whispered, shaking his head as he made his way to the edge of the roof.

"I'm gonna write your story," I told him, as he prepared to leap into the night. "I've got the media's attention now. People wanna know more about you. And I plan to give it to them."

"Don't," he told me. "I'm begging you, Vi. Don't do this."

"I know you can't understand where I'm coming from right now," I replied. "But I'm not doing this to spite you. I'm doing this to help you. I'm not scared of Nathaniel or anybody else. People need to know that you're a good person; people need hope. You're the light in this darkness. Let them see you."

A scream in the distance broke us from the moment. There was no time to reply; and I knew he had to go. He jumped off of the side of the roof and disappeared in the direction of the mugging. I sighed and sat back down, before pushing myself until I was lying down. I stared up at the starry night sky.

It wasn't like I couldn't understand where he was coming from. Of course he'd want to protect his identity; you can't save everyone when they know your name and address. But at the same time, I'd done nothing but try to help him. I was a confidant; someone he came to for help. I'd done research for him and learned some of his inner secrets. I knew his powers and about his sidekick. I could help him! If I got him into the newspapers, people would begin to see him for the hero he was, and not just some villain like some people believed. They would see the good in the world, not just the bad. And I knew he was scared for my safety, but it was a risk I was willing to take if it meant helping him out.

I heard the putter of a motor on the street, and heard it stop outside my house. Out of curiosity, I sat up and shifted so that I was looking over the edge of the roof. I felt an involuntary smile forming on my face as I saw Sam get out of his car and make his way towards the front door. I scrabbled to my feet on the roof tiles and slipped through my window and into my bedroom. I made my way downstairs just as a knock came at the door, and flung it open quickly. He jumped back in surprise, and I wondered if I had come over as a little too eager. Right now I really just needed the distraction, though.

"Hi, there," I greeted. "Happy Halloween. Unfortunately, though, if you're not wearing a costume, you don't get any candy."

He laughed. "I'd settle for a date instead. You busy?"

"Not at all," I replied. "Let me go upstairs and change, and I'll meet you in your car in fifteen?"

He smiled. "Sounds good."

~ * ~

"So, where are we headed?" I asked about fifteen minutes into the car trip, fiddling awkwardly with the seatbelt. Now that the initial need for distraction had worn off, I was now realizing that between my kiss with Colton and my rendezvousing with The Black Phoenix, adding a third guy to the mix may be a little presumptuous of me. Especially since I didn't like him as much as the other two.

But it's not like I had a crush on The Black Phoenix.

Right?

Right?

I mean, I hadn't even seen his face, even though it did look really handsome behind the mask. And he had a nice laugh and voice. And he did care so much about protecting me.

But no! Surely I couldn't. I mean, even though he had saved my life all the time, we did fight a lot. And it was becoming increasingly obvious if I did have a crush on him, my feelings were largely unrequited.

Weren't they?

"There's a nice little place on top of the hill up there," Sam replied, pointing out the window towards Sterling Hill, which overlooked the glittering city. It was always super pretty, but I'd never been up there at night. "I know it's not much, but as a jobless college guy, I can't really afford French restaurants..."

Where did The Black Phoenix dine? I wondered. Did he even go on dates?

Stop it, Violet!

"That sounds perfect," I replied reassuringly, which it did. I'd rather stargaze from the top of a mountain than go to some overpriced restaurant with snobbish waiters.

We drove up the hill silently, and I tried to focus on the music rather than on any intruding thoughts about a certain fit and leather-clad lifesaver. We were fighting right now! And even if we weren't fighting, he obviously didn't like me enough to tell me important details like who the hell he was.

"You okay?" Sam asked, as we pulled into a parking spot at the top of the mountain. We were the only ones there, which wasn't very surprising. On a bright and sunny day not many people came up there, anyway. There wasn't much space for a lot of people, and besides three picnic tables and lookout binoculars, it didn't really boast many other features. "You've been kinda quiet the whole ride."

"I'm just distracted, that's all," I told him. "Sorry. I'm probably not the best company right now."

He unclipped his seatbelt and turned to me, studying me inquisitively. "Hey, what's up? You know you can tell me anything."

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair, wondering if it was worth it to seek advice from him. But who else was I going to go to for help? I couldn't go to the Black Phoenix himself, considering how tight-lipped he was on all matters regarding himself. Maybe it would be good to talk to somebody else—even if they couldn't know the whole story.

"Do you remember that article I wrote?" I asked him.

He nodded. "You mean the one about that Voiceless Stranger guy? Yeah, of course! It's pretty famous right now. Good work on that, by the way. You're really making a name for yourself out there, Violet."

I smiled bashfully. "Thank you. Would you say... did it change your opinion on him? Like did you think he was a bad guy before I wrote that?"

He frowned and thought for a second, looking out of the dashboard. I followed his gaze, and was rewarded with a glittering view of New York City in all its glory. It really was a beautiful place, filled with glittering lights and a teeming nightlife. I did love where I lived, even if occasionally it was a little cold and smoggy. It was still home for me.

"I guess so. I mean, I never paid much attention to him beforehand, but he was getting a bit of a rap in the public as a menace."

"Do you think my exposé changed anyone's opinion?" I questioned.

He nodded. "Definitely. People won't stop talking about it. I guess because no one knew much about him beforehand until you wrote that article. Everyone's still trying to figure out how you knew all that stuff. I mean, I know he saved you, but you spoke about him in the article as if you knew him."

"We may or may not talk occasionally," I said. It was safe to tell Sam, right? He was a good guy, and who was he going to tell? "He saved my life, and after that we started talking a little more. He shared some stuff with me. I just want others to see him the way I do; to fully understand him."

"Is that why you wrote the article?"

I nodded. "Well, originally it started because I had no idea what else I was going to write, but the more I wrote it the more I realized that I wanted people to know he was saving lives. He's locking bad guys up and helping innocent people, and still he's ridiculed, all because he won't stick around for a quote or tell people who he is."

"People are scared of what they don't know," Sam told me. "Not everyone is as close to him as you are. To them, all they see is a faceless entity who is pulling off the impossible, throwing people in jail, and stopping crime. Wouldn't you be a little afraid of the unknown, too?"

I settled back into the seat. "I guess so. But he is a good guy. And I just want to prove it to the world. I want them to accept him for who he is and let him do his thing. I want to write his story. I mean, maybe if he had kind of like a public voice, people would trust him more."

"Then be that voice."

"I want to," I replied. "I do. But he is totally opposed to the idea. He doesn't want me to get hurt over it, you know? I know he wants to protect me, but I can handle myself."

"What does he think is going to happen if you tell the world about him?" Sam asked.

"He thinks I'm going to get targeted by haters or bad people or people who want to know who he is."

"Well, do you know who he is?"

I shook my head. "No. He won't tell me. And I guess I'd be okay with it. But we've been talking a lot, and I thought we were becoming friends, or something." I looked down at my hands, feeling embarrassed to be admitting all this to Sam. "But it's like he doesn't trust me."

"You gotta look at where the guy is coming from," Sam told me softly. "He can do things that no human on this earth can do. He can achieve the impossible. Wouldn't you be a little afraid to reveal who you really were, too?"

"I guess so," I breathed out. "But I could really help him. I could make a difference. I just want him to let me help. No one can do this alone."

"Then help him," Sam advised. "Write those articles. Be what he doesn't know he needs yet. Show him that you're strong and capable and worthy of being trusted. But be careful at the same time. The guy has a valid point about the bad people out there that could use you to get to him. I don't want you to get hurt."

"You really think I should do it?"

"I think you should do whatever you think is best," Sam told me. "You're smart. If you really wanna help him, then you shouldn't be held back by hypothetical 'what-if'' situations. Do what you want. If you truly think this guy is a hero, then show others that he is."

"You're really good at this whole advice thing," I told him, smiling. "Thank you, Sam. I'm really glad I talked to you about all this."

"Always happy to help," he promised me. "Now what do you say we kick back and enjoy the night hero-free?"

I smiled and snuggled closer to him, thinking that now my fears were settled it sounded like a great idea. "I think that sounds perfect."

~      *      ~

If you are still reading this, I owe you everything. I'm sorry about how lax I've been at updating, but you don't have to worry about that anymore. My writer's block is officially gone, and I'm brimming with ideas for this story. Updating soon!

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