"Mr. Thompson?", the 7th period teacher called, inspecting the pass. "Yessir?", the student responded, looking up from his work. He took the pass and read it. He didn't know who this "Ms. Melbourne" is, but he did know where the room was, so he got up and left the classroom.

The quiet hallways that he passed through filled him with a sense of unease for...a reason he couldn't place. There was nothing wrong here. Whatever Melbourne wanted was probably harmless.

He headed towards the counselors' office and walked to where he was instructed: two doors down from the right. Thompson pushed open the door and walked inside.

The office was hardly lit, with the only light being a desk lamp and the sunlight outside, being filtered by a blue curtain. It was furnished with two chairs, a dark wooden desk, and one black leather chair behind it, with a brass embroidery.

"Hm? Let's see, who's next. Ah! Eugene!", a cheerful woman's voice read, spinning the chair towards the teen to reveal the woman in question.

She was shorter, had some curves, straight black hair that touched her shoulders, and wide brown eyes. Ms. Melbourne seemed relatively cheerful and optimistic and had a caring disposition, but there was still something familiar that Flash couldn't quite place. Had they seen each other at the supermarket or something?

"Yes, yes! Please, have a seat.," she beckoned, gesturing to one of the less furnished chairs. Flash did as told. "I don't remember seeing your face before.," Flash commented. "Oh, I'm new. The school thought it would be a good idea to hire a guidance counselor/therapist after many of the recent events.," she explained casually. Flash nodded but furrowed his brows. "So, is there a reason why I'm here?" "Oh, nothing too big. You're not in trouble today.," she joked, barking out a laugh. "This is just a routine check-up, is all. So, Mr. Thompson."

Flash's thoughts froze dead in its tracks, as the queen's laugh echoed through his mind. No wonder she was so familiar. It was her.

"Let's have a look at your file."

She hummed as her thin fingers brushed between the number of students. "Here we are," she announced, pulling out the file with a yank. "Let's see. Quite the troublemaker, aren't we? Fights, disruptions, suspensions. Even a case of bullying.," Melbourne announced as she read. "And your grades aren't the best too, are they? How could they be, with all of the disruptions you've been causing. You haven't given yourself an opportunity to learn." Her words were sympathetic, almost pitiful. "Well, thankfully for you, we still have time to fix things. Maybe get you into accepted into some colleges based on your own merit, and not your parent's money." "I was--", Flash started to defend, only to be silenced by a raised eyebrow, that suggested she knew the truth he didn't. "But, but what about the decathlon team? I got in all four years.", he still tried to defend. "Yes, but under what positions?", Melbourne continued, making Flash recall those memories. An alternate. He was accepted, but he was kept out of the way, so they could win. He was kept away from the competitions so he could stay out of trouble. "Did you even want to be a part of that?", she questioned, leaning her head on her arm. Her eyes always seemed to be inspecting his behavior, all of his nervous ticks as he was second-guessing himself.

It silenced Flash as it made him think. Yes, he wanted to be a part of that, but now he had to remember why. It wasn't to seem 'cool'; even at this school, they weren't exactly the ones they'd brag about knowing. Was it to look good on applications or resumes? His parents would have made him practice more than that, then. They seem set on him getting into a good life as the heir of the family business.

Then it hit him. His parents were the ones that suggested it. He took on the team to please them because he knew that when both his mother and father "suggested" something, it was mandatory. But...at the same time...

"Yes. I did.", Flash finally answered aloud, probably out of denial. Melbourne pursed her lips, asking, "Are you sure?' "Yes, Ms. Melbourne, I am." "Absolutely sure?", she repeated, almost taunting him. "Yes.", he repeated, getting slightly agitated. "Ah, yes, the anger management issues. I was just about to talk about those.", she started again, clearly satisfied with the reaction. Flash stopped, raising an eyebrow in expectation.

"You seem to have a tendency to have destructive, overwhelming episodes if the file is anything to go by.", she described, but her words confused Flash. He didn't have any problems at school. Well, he could get mad, but he was never physical about it, let alone destructive. "Always ending with the inability to recall the episode.", the counselor spoke aloud, watching him closely. "That's...not true...", he thought aloud. "I'm just reading the records brought to me, dear. And it says right here that you have had multiple outbursts on school grounds, typically against helpless individuals. Nothing unexpected of a bully."

Flash took a deep breath, which transitioned into a heavy sigh. He should have known this was coming. "Ok, I will admit to the bullying. Yes, I know it's bad, yes, I know how harmful it is to everyone involved, and I don't expect the file to mention me trying to make amends anytime soon, but I also know, with absolute certainty, that it was never physical. Not once had I ever laid a hand on Peter Parker, Ned Leeds, or anyone else; if the file says that, then that document is containing false information, Ms. Melbourne."

'Mr. Thompson, please control yourself before you have an episode in my new office.", she warned, despite there being no aggression in his voice at all. "Interesting. You mentioned wanting to make amends. Why?", she questioned instead, smoothly recovering from the shock that was not letting her take control of the conversation.

"Well, it's because of many different things. One, we're going to graduate soon, and I don't want us to end on bad terms, especially if either of them ends up being my future boss. Acceptance and apologies are the first steps. Or so I've been told. Another reason would probably be that we have no reason to be enemies anymore.

As you said, a lot has happened recently. With the Blip, and the trip, and...a third thing,", he slowed down, carefully choosing his words, "we've been through so much together that there's no need for me to start picking fights with him. Either of them, really. In all honesty, I owe Parker my life. Multiple lives, in fact." If my hunch is anything to go by, he thought internally.

"Hm.", she hummed as she crossed her arms. "I think we can build on this and kill multiple birds with one stone. I must admit, I'm surprised that you're taking this kind of initiative already. I would think that someone is making you do this.", Melbourne claimed, looking away in thought. "No, Ms., the only person making me do any of this is myself. I don't just roll over because people tell me to.", he remarked with a casual laugh. She gave an echo of a smile, before picking up a pen and writing another pass.

"How about this. Later today, you go find both Peter and Ned and ask them for help with your schoolwork. Your grades will improve, as well as your relations with them if you manage to swallow your pride long enough to do so. Try not to sound like you want to use them for anything, and they should comply.", Melbourne instructed as she wrote, though kind of sounding like she was disinterested in the results.

"Then, you'll come back here in a few days, and we'll go from there. Ok?", she finished, handing him the pass back. He stopped for a moment, taking the pass as he took a good look at her and her expression. She sounded playful and caring, but in truth she was just bored. Fair enough; to her, he was probably nothing but another name. Though she tried to hide it well enough.

Slowly, he got up and left the room, closing the door behind him before sighing and reevaluating the entire meeting. There was a lot of demeaning in there; Flash isn't entirely sure that everything on the file was correct. And he especially was certain to not trust her after their first encounter.

On the other side of the door, the counselor gave a scoff. "Another brat taken care of. Really needs to learn to let me do the work.", she thought aloud, opening the file and writing something in it.

"Next.", she called impatiently.