Chapter Twenty-Four

A/N: QUICK NOTE! I have a TikTok and Tumblr account where I feature artwork for the story if you wanna check it out! My user is EdenSungilda on both platforms! The above photo is part of a TikTok I just posted the other day that I swear won't break your hearts or anything 🤭

Okay, onto the story!

To say Esmerelda was an overachiever would be an understatement. Even during the months after Gavin died (or, disappeared, she'd prefer to say), rather than submerge herself in the grief, she used it to channel herself into work. Diving headfirst, pouring herself into her dance- numbing herself with every activity and going through the motions of her ambition.

She could have been a star had she just put that ambition towards her career instead of being spider-woman.

And now look where she was- sitting in the waiting room at the top of Babylon towers, waiting for the mysterious job Conchata promised her at Alchemax. It couldn't be that terrible, right? Then again, she still couldn't get over how unpromising Conchata sounded when she said she had something perfect for Esme.

What could be perfect, exactly? Perfect to Esme would be on the front page of Dance magazine or the New Yorker, hell even just one page on any section of the Daily Bugle that wasn't her alter ego would be nice.

Esme glanced at the conference room, the tinted windows give her a small view of Conchata standing at the end of a filled table of board members discussing their best course of action- briefing them on Spectre and the spider-man situation. None of them looked very happy.

It felt like the only thing holding her together was the slim wristband on her wrist, and who knows how long that would last. Lyla had scanned it to analyze it, but there was so many unknown variables to Esme. Halcón, roulette, and Ophelia had seemingly been hired by one person- a man. She could be wrong about that assessment- but her gut told her the voice she heard over the coms was definitely him.

But why? What did he want with her? And why bring her to another universe? How did he even know about her unless he was from her world? She wished she was smart enough to figure it out.

She huffed, leaning back in her chair and adjusting the glasses she was forced to wear.

"You need to blend in- and make yourself look less like someone who could be spider-woman. Put these on." Xina had said, handing her the frames.

"Why? I stopped using a prescription when I got bit." Esme had grumbled.

"That's exactly why you should wear them. Spider-Woman is public enemy number two next to spider-man, and they want to find someone who's in perfect health condition, same height, and same physique. So Esmerelda Costello has to be someone else."

Then she handed her shoes with padding on the inside to give her an extra few inches- handed her a hair tie, oversized clothes, and of course- made her wear the glasses.

She grumbled, hating the redness of her nose as the frame irritated her skin. She couldn't stand glasses before she got bit- and she definitely couldn't stand them now. Why could they have just given her contacts or something? Okay maybe it wouldn't be as obvious but still.

Conchata opened the door, allowing the tall men and women in fancy suits to exit, their gazes ice as they looked forward and seemed to ignore Esme's existence entirely. Esme was about to get up when Conchata raised a finger, shaking her head.

"I'll be with you, just one more moment." She closed the door.

Conchata leaned against her seat, rubbing her temples as Lyla flickered into a full sized hologram next to her.

"You okay Miss boss?" Lyla leaned closer, her brows knotted in concern.

"It's a lot. Too much damage control. I really didn't expect things to get so out of hand like that yesterday. Didn't take into account Xina's personal situation. I knew she was desperate to prove herself... I just didn't think she'd go that far." Mrs. O'Hara let out a low sigh filled with years worth of tiredness that even an AI like Lyla felt sympathy for.

"I had no time to alert Esme about the interruption- or about Miguel, and the whole thing has gotten so complicated."

"If I may, what exactly is your plan? Isn't putting Esme somewhere close to Miguel, risky?"

Conchata looked down at her watch, at the tiny image of her boys on each side of her, Gabri with his wide smile and Miguel of course with his more subtle, begrudging one. She missed the way they used to be. Missed Gabriel. Missed the way Miguel was when he was just beginning to fill out the potential, she saw in him. Becoming someone caring- someone who wanted to do good.

"Miguel needs incentive to be more. His self-hate and grief is something I'm afraid he'll never truly defeat without some help. But nothing I've done seems to help. He won't even visit Gabriel- won't speak to Dana's family."

She closed her eyes, driving out her own guilt with the light.

"And maybe that's my own fault, for being so hard on him that he refuses to listen to me anymore. But I won't lose both my sons."

She withdrew, looking at the window at the determined girl seated outside.

"I can tell Esme is going through something similar to Miguel. She can relate to him in ways that none of us can- sharing that burden of having powers beyond our imagination. Except the difference is, she doesn't run away from it. That's why I want her to be my assistant. Keep her safe here, while also giving Miguel a challenge to pull him out of his shell." Conchata almost beamed with pride at her elaborate plan. "Yes, I'll use the gala as an excuse for the extra hands. We hire so many people around this time of year he'll never suspect anything."

Lyla crossed her arms, still skeptical. She tried to run through all the possible scenarios things could go wrong from this. The two finding out the other's identity sooner than planned, Miguel possibly killing Esme or the other way around, or the both of them refusing to work together entirely and causing a mission to go awry.

Considering how both were equally stubborn and sometimes impulsive, it was more like putting two choices of oil near an open flame and hoping nothing bad would happen. Lyla should probably have the fire department on speed dial because a fire sounded like a likely event the more she thought about it.

Nonethless, she was just an Ai, so what did she know except everything?

"Alright Lyla, tell Esme to come inside." She clapsed her hands, humming to herself.

'It didn't take much to put her back in a cheery mood,' Lyla thought.

She transferred to Esme's watch and notified her to come in.

"Thank you for your patience Esme, the share holders took longer than expected to come to an agreement. Nice glasses," Esme visibly cringed at the comment and Conchata chuckled. "Don't worry, you only need to wear them at work. They aren't normal lenses, you see."

She tapped the air and Esme's eyes widened as a golden miniature model of her glasses popped up.

"These were originally designed for spider-man as both shades for his light sensitive eyes, and also to emit a low frequency of hypnotism so no one would associate his voice or features with spider-man.

It works even if someone is viewing him on camera because the feed will still capture the frequency. It's how he's managed to keep his identity secret for these few years."

Esme admired it in spectacle, impressed by the technology. "Wait, I thought Alchemax hated spider-man? So why did they make tech for him?"

Conchata smiled. "Alchemax has had an up and down relationship with him, but there is a few of us here who still think ourselves his ally if he ever needs us. Primarily just me and Xina, and Lyla of course."

"You all go behind Miguel's back?" Esme lifted a brow. Conchata only confirmed her question with a sly smirk.

'Talk about complicated family dynamics.' Esme thought.

"So what's this mysterious job you have me worried about?"

Conchata swiped the glasses to the side and pulled up photos of a large space- a room Esme could only process as a techno ballroom, LED lights falling from the ceiling and a floor that looked like a river of gold swirling beneath glass. The room was filled with people in high end fashion- as if all the clothes Esme had seen already hadn't been impressive already.

"Every five years Alchemax hosts a gala to thank all our investors and companies that work under us- a way to give back to the city. It's a great way to raise more money and build strong relationships with future partners and participants in our company." Conchata's smile slowly ebbed away.

"That's what it was supposed to be, anyway. The past decade it's been just a cesspool of greedy people finding ways to corrupt the system even more, thanks to Tyler stone. But, now that Miguel is in charge, we want to turn it into exactly what it's supposed to be."

Esme focused on the images, still amazed at the concept of this possible future. Would her world look like this someday? Would she live to see it?

"I want you to help me with it. It's in two months."

Esme's head snapped to attention. "M-me? How could I help? I don't know anything about this world-"

"You're a dancer, aren't you?"

Esme stiffened. "H-how did you know?"

Conchata glanced down, Esme following her eyes to see her feet stationed one over the other and her toes pointed outward.

"You have the stance of a ballet dancer. I noticed on the playback footage that the way you fight is also reminiscent of capoeira- pretty impressive." Conchata circled here, and Esme suddenly felt like she was back in SAB with a teacher's eyes picking her form apart, immediately straightening out her back and fixing her feet.

"I was a dancer in the New York City Ballet, before I got sent here." Esme confessed.

Conchata nodded, eyes fixated on her. Behind her dense brows, Esme could almost see the cog wheels turning in the pits of her eyes. Thinking, convoluting a plot only one with her age could make sense of.

"Show me."

"What, right here?"

Conchata laughed, shaking her head. "No. Tomorrow. The traditional arts is still highly praised, though after the heroic age performers with talent became more and more scarce. And even those who are still around don't know the real work it takes- to be more than just a dancer but a socialite."

She waved towards the window, guiding Esme to look outside at the cast city below. It's sparkling lights still stole her breath.

"You come from a time where you should be experienced with having to attend parties like the gala in order to draw attention. Thus, you'd be perfect to help me not only make this gala stand out, but offer your expertise as a dancer. I would never throw you into a field completely out of your comfort zone." Conchata hummed. "This year's theme is a tribute to the mid-twentieth-century. Are you familiar with their music?"

"I'm more familiar with early twenty-first-century music, if that counts?" Esme wryly laughed.

"No matter, this music just needs to at least sound like it's from the nineteen fifties. Swing and jazz music. Some Latin of course. We'll try to incorporate different variations of other cultures into it."

She glanced to Lyla to make sure she was typing everything down.

"And of course, I want you to help me with the auditions for dancers to entertain. If you prove yourself talented tomorrow, then you will help me scout dancers. Perhaps come up with the choreography yourself."

Esme turned red, shocked. If the question had been to dance herself she would have been fine- but teach other people? She'd never been asked to do that. It was always another student or one of her peers who came up with the choreography when they were assigned a project, she only contributed part of it if she had to.

She could come up with her own dances, but she needed isolation and time for it- and translating it into a way someone else could comprehend was beyond her comfort zone. She was too picky and hard on herself- how could she ask absolute perfection from someone else?

And the other thing- socializing. It was true she had to attend a lot of events to speak with sponsors and entertain honored guests, but never anything this scale before. Conchata was putting a lot of faith in her, and just because she was spider-woman? She had to have more motive than that.

Did it really matter though?

"Is that too difficult?" Conchata snapped her out of her thoughts, reminding her of her earlier statement. "I can always just have you help Miguel catch up on paper work for the gala instead-"

"No!" Esme quickly caught herself and swallowed back her panic. "No, I can do it."

"Splendid! Let me know how long you need to come up with the choreography. The auditions are tomorrow at this address, I hope to see you there at nine hundred."

Esme nodded and sighed, slumping forward and walking out of the office. She walked down the hall and felt relief when she saw Xina walking out of a door, her shoulders draped in a leather coat and her eyes concreting on the tablet in her hands.

"Xina! Hey!" She walked faster only to stop as two men- a couple of the share holders from earlier- shouldered past her without any aknowledgment.

"...I can't believe nothing is being done about spider-man's return. He was a pain in the ass almost two years ago, I don't care if he stopped terrorizing Alchemax. He's still a menace to Nueva York." One of them grumbled.

"It's bad enough that we had one of him to worry about- now we have two!" His peer grumbled in agreement. "But hey, at least she might be hot under the mask."

"Hot but psycho probably."

Esme had half the mind to set their suits ablaze but their annoying laughter soon faded as they went further down the hall away from her. Her feet stopped beside Xina, grumbling.

"Why does everyone hate spider-man so much? maybe in my dimension New York had more of a reason to dislike me, but I haven't even been here for two seconds and they already are grouping me in with that other guy."

Xina laughed, covering her mouth slightly before lifting her gaze to look between Esme and the men before they disappeared around the corner.

"Spider-man used to be anti-corporations and specifically targeted Alchemax for its corruption. That's why Alchemax isn't the biggest fan of him. It was a little better when Miguel took over, but now that there's bad blood in the water, it's pretty much back to the same way it was."

The mention of this mysterious CEO again piqued Esme's interest. "What's his problem with Spider-man? Aside from the guy's obvious lack of humor and bad attitude."

Xina giggled again before thinking for a moment. "Miguel? He... he just has a lot of resentment when it comes to even the sound of his name."

"Why?"

Xina's smile dimmed, and she looked away, glancing at her tablet again. Esme was experienced enough to tell when someone was faking distraction by now.

"It's... a long story. He lost someone last year." Xina's eyes showed something that made Esme regret her question, tightening her lips to lock away her curiosity. Xina caught herself, her eyes flicking back up with a smile. "Come on newbie, let me show you around the place."

Esme groaned. "Please don't let it be anything boring and science related."

"And what's wrong with science?" Xina guided her down the hall.

Their steps sounded uncomfortably loud in the empty space, but once they went in the elevator the music filled in any pauses between their conversation.

"Nothing. I like some parts of it- one thing about working at Spectre was that there was never a dull moment with the office drama, and I got to see a lot of cool things like a flock of dodo birds. But I can't stand the explaining parts." Esme grimaced. "Sophia could put me to sleep just explaining the genealogy of a tree."

Xina laughed again- a sound Esme was beginning to associate with the pretty sounds of a harp with the way it could pluck any person's heartstrings.

"I think it's just because of the way your friend explains things. It's all about the speaker and the topic. Science is a wide range of many different things- you just haven't found something of interest to you."

The elevator doors opened, the two stepping out into a wide glistening corridor filled to the brim with chatter and echo of steps. Esme's eyes widened, stepping to the side as someone wheeled a cart past them and into the elevator.

There were so many people here it made Esme feel small in comparison. Looking at their charts, moving carts, jotting down notes as they followed someone else like ducklings. Some carts had rows of tubes or boxes, others had crates of small animals or pots of plants- all of it seemed to be so intriguing.

"Like I said, science can be anything. Animals, plants, humans- planets, stars and other things in space-
Aliens, diseases, viruses, or my specialty, computer science." Xina took Esme's hand, leading her down until they were at a metallic door. Xina pressed her hand to the panel next to it, an automated voice confirming her access before the doors slid open.

Inside, she saw a large room with a row of desks, computers at each one with other personalized objects littered around them. Books, tablets, plants, and styluses in block containers.

Some computers were already in use, but Esme hurriedly found an empty one and brushed her fingers against the smooth surface. It was a screen built into the desk, but once her fingers felt the icy glass it became illuminated with yellow light and transmitted a screen above it- an interface.

"Now this- this I dig." She swiped away, typing in questions into the search engine and browsing through the thousands of articles talking about this Earth's reality and all the things she missed out on.
"You're decades ahead of my world's technology."

"It has its pros and cons. No matter what decade you're in, there's still people who abuse power." Xina shook her head, leaning over Esme's shoulder to point out one article.

"See this guy? That's Tyler Stone. Pretty much the previous guy who was running the company into the gutter. Went missing last year."

"He looks like the kind of guy to do that." Esme breathed, scrolling through the related section before she paused, something catching her eye. She felt Xina still beside her.

"Who's green goblin?"

Esme looked up only to see Xina's eyes frozen on the screen.

"Xina? Are you okay?"

The image on the screen showed a completely green man- purple mask that covered his whole face with horns protruding from his temples, wings from his shoulders outstretched with its tendons flexed. His hands were lifted with claws at the ready, aimed for the camera. Esme shivered, his golden eyes staring straight into hers.

"Y-yeah. Let's move on." She glanced down, her watch beeping. "On second thought, my boss is calling me. Guess we're skipping the tour and going straight to the top floor."

"Your boss?" Esme stood up, shutting down the computer.

Xina nodded, leading her back out of the room.

"Yeah. You ready to meet Miguel O'Hara?"

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