Chapter 54: Birthday Song Part 1

I… Gwen Stacy, was watching Michelle, who was sitting across from me with a serious look on her face.

We were at a café in Midtown. A student-friendly place that Michelle, myself, and the other nerds often visited. The prices were a bit cheaper, and the taste was passable. Tea was better than the coffee.

The other day… right, after we got caught up in that incident during the summer trip, the ones of us who ended up in the hospital had to stay for two weeks. I was there for a full-body exam… Michelle for treatment of her injury.

Two weeks. Do you see that as long, or short?

To me, it felt long. Officially, the reason was to examine the strain my body had taken from bonding with the symbiote—Gwenom. Behind the scenes, that was the pretense for the tests.

It’s true that S.H.I.E.L.D. was sneaking around doing something under the table.

Speaking of S.H.I.E.L.D., I got chewed out by Nick Fury for raising the bonding level without authorization. And I mean seriously chewed out. Over and over, like a dripping faucet.

And he wasn’t wrong, so I couldn’t argue. It really was my fault… so, I didn’t complain.

Still, if the same thing happened again, I think I’d make the same call. When I told Fury I didn’t want to live with regret, he gave an exasperated sigh, nodded, and then increased the amount of mental training I’d have to go through.

If they can’t make me break the bond, then their logic is I’d better improve my control.

…Well, it’s clear they’ve given up on trying to talk sense into me.

Anyway, back to the topic at hand.

I was surprised Michelle’s hospital stay was only two weeks too. She got shot in the stomach and lost a lot of blood.

According to the doctors, the bullet happened to hit a really good spot. No damage to major organs, no damage to any bones… that’s why she was able to get out early.

There weren’t even any scars left… and I was relieved.

I still have marks on my neck and forehead. I didn’t want her to go through the same thing. So I was happy.

…By the way, I didn’t tell S.H.I.E.L.D. that Michelle found out about Gwenom. If I did, she’d definitely get dragged into all of it.

I want her to live somewhere peaceful. That’s all I want.

So after our discharge, we returned to New York later than the rest of our classmates.

Before I knew it, it was already August. Only a month left of summer vacation.

And then, for the first time since the summer trip, Michelle called me out.

“G-Gwen, there’s something I want to talk to you about…”

Her beautiful platinum blonde hair caught the light as she fidgeted nervously, trying to get the words out.

I thought maybe something serious had happened, so I leaned in and listened closely.

“It’s kind of hard to believe… and it’s not 100% confirmed yet, but—”

I held my breath.

“I think Peter… likes me.”

And I let out a sigh.

…Yeah, I know.

Pretty much everyone who knows the two of them knows.

I couldn’t help but mutter aloud.

“Haa… I got all worried for nothing.”

“G-Gwen. I’m serious… I’m not lying…!”

She pressed me, maybe because she thought I didn’t believe her.

“Yeah yeah, I get it. I know, I know. Peter likes you—like, in the love way.”

“…Huh? How do you know?”

More like, how could she not think people knew?

Is Peter just that hopeless? Or is Michelle just that clueless when it comes to romance?

Well, both are true, but the main issue is probably the latter.

“Seriously, how did you not notice…?”

“E-Eh…?”

Michelle’s confused face was so funny I couldn’t help but laugh.

“…Gwen?”

Michelle puffed out her cheeks at my laugh. I quickly tried to explain myself.

“…Sorry, sorry. I wasn’t making fun of you.”

“Well, fine then…”

She nodded, looking reluctant.

“So…? How’d you figure it out?”

“Um… this.”

Michelle reached into her shirt and pulled out a necklace from around her chest. It was a blue glass rose, discolored to white.

“…What’s that?”

“Peter gave it to me.”

“Oh… ah, that explains it.”

I remembered now—during the summer trip, Peter had been planning to give Michelle a present.

It was pretty bold for a nerd like him, so I’d assumed someone had coached him, but now I realized it wasn’t something to scoff at.

If it got her to become aware of his feelings, then it was a perfect move—full marks.

The color was a bit off and it looked a little cracked… but seeing Michelle holding it so carefully and looking so happy…

I decided saying anything would just ruin the mood and kept my mouth shut.

Sometimes, there are more important things than fashion.

Shaking off the mood, I turned to Michelle and asked:

“So? What do you think, Michelle?”

“…Are you talking about Peter?”

“Of course. Do you like him? Or don’t you?”

I asked a slightly teasing question. There was really only one answer she could give.

“I-I do like him…”

She couldn’t say she didn’t. Maybe just as a friend—but Michelle clearly trusted Peter.

“Then great. Why not go out with him?”

That’s why I asked so casually… without thinking.

“…That’s not possible.”

…It didn’t even look like she had to think about it. I hadn’t expected that at all, and tilted my head without meaning to.

“You can’t see Peter as a guy?”

“…It’s not like that.”

Michelle looked down, her expression clouded. I almost stopped the conversation then and there, but… ninety percent of it was worry for her, and ten percent curiosity. So I kept going.

“Then why not?”

When I asked that, Michelle slowly lifted her head and opened her mouth.

“Because… Peter and I aren’t a good match.”

Beautiful, kind, smart—she’s got it all. And Peter, well, he’s smart too, but kind of hopeless.

To say they’re not a good match… isn’t something Michelle would say lightly.

Which must mean—it’s her own self-worth that’s way too low.

“That’s not true, you know?”

So I denied it right away. She’s an important friend to me. Honestly, out of all the girls I’ve ever met, she might be the best.

She doesn’t get jealous. She doesn’t brag. She doesn’t use people. She doesn’t walk on eggshells around others.

…And even though I know I can be a little too headstrong, she’s always stayed by my side.

I want her to be happy. That’s all I wish for her.

“No. I’m not as good a person as Peter or… you think I am.”

…I didn’t know what to say.

I thought maybe falling in love could help fill the hole her self-esteem left behind.

But I never expected her to reject the idea of being liked in the first place.

So.

“…I don’t want you saying stuff like that too much.”

The words slipped out from deep inside my heart.

Michelle looked flustered.

“Uh, ah, sorry… I didn’t mean to, I mean…”

Her face clearly showed that she was afraid I might hate her now.

So I stood up from my seat… and sat down next to her.

“Eh…? Gwen…?”

And then I gave her a good, firm pat on the head.

“Because I care about you, Michelle… I think you’re important. That’s why I want you to have more confidence in yourself. That’s all.”

When I pulled my hand away, she looked just a little bit reluctant to let it go.

Still seated next to her, I reached across the table for the tea—mine, the one I had ordered—and pulled it toward me.

Oh, and the chocolate too.

I don’t really like it myself…

…it’s for Gwenom.

I sneak it to her when no one’s looking.

Even though we’re in a booth, sitting side by side might look a little strange. But there are more important things to me than worrying about how it looks to others.

“Even if you can’t believe in yourself… you can believe in me, Peter, and Ned—people who care about you. I just want you to remember that you’re important to someone.”

“…Thank you, Gwen.”

Just a little.

Only a little, but her smile looked more genuine than before. I gave her a nod.

“You’re welcome.”

With that, I picked up the chocolate. Pretending to eat it, I brought it under the table… and Gwenom chomped it down.

Wanting to shift the overly serious mood, I decided to change the topic.

No point in dragging it out if her self-esteem wouldn’t budge no matter how much we talked.

…I’ll have to leave that part to Peter.

Speaking of which—Peter.

“By the way… do you know when Peter’s birthday is?”

“…I don’t.”

“It’s coming up soon, actually.”

Peter’s birthday is on August 10th.

Last year, Ned and I celebrated with him.

This year… I’d like Michelle to join us.

That’s what I told her.

“…Okay.”

“Oh, and when’s your birthday, Michelle? …Wait, don’t tell me it already passed?”

“Me? I… hmm…”

She paused, like she was trying to remember.

…Is it possible to forget your own birthday?

“My birthday’s August 11th. The day after his.”

“Huh, what a crazy coincidence. We definitely have to celebrate it.”

“Celebrate…?”

She reacted like she wasn’t used to the idea of someone celebrating her birthday.

In that moment, I saw something dark inside her.

I don’t know anything about her home life… but her lack of confidence might come from that.

She doesn’t talk about it, so I don’t ask.

But if we threw a party just for Michelle… she might feel overwhelmed.

…I started to think up a plan.

“Then let’s have a joint birthday party, yeah? As for where… hmm. My place or Ned’s might work. Four people in Peter’s apartment would be kinda cramped.”

If she wasn’t okay being the center of attention, we could frame it as a joint party with Peter.

“…Okay. I’ll come too.”

“Hehe, of course you will. You’re one of the birthday stars! I’ll let you know once we settle the details, okay?”

“Yeah, I’m looking forward to it.”

It seemed less like she was looking forward to being celebrated, and more like… she was just happy to be included.

…I checked my watch.

“Ah—crap. I’ve got something after this, so I’m heading out! Let’s hang out again tomorrow, okay?”

“Yeah. Thanks for today.”

“Likewise.”

I left money for my order… with a little extra, and got up from my seat.

It was time for the training Fury had assigned me.

I flagged down a taxi to head toward the S.H.I.E.L.D. branch.

Naturally, the fare was on S.H.I.E.L.D.’s tab.

As the cab rocked gently, I recalled the name of the person I was supposed to meet today—someone said to be an expert in emotional control.

Bruce Banner.

…I wonder what kind of person he is?

"Ugh, what a pain."

"Don't say that. It's work—just work."

I get off my motorcycle and park it.

Then I flash my badge to the prison guard at the gate and go through a body check.

"Hey! This guy grabbed my ass!"

"Yeah yeah, sure I did."

…That just slipped out. From the outside, it probably looks like I'm talking to myself.

The guard gives me a suspicious look… no, scratch that. It's the face of someone who thinks I'm nuts.

I sigh and walk into the prison.

"Ugh, what a bunch of depressing losers! If there weren’t bars, I’d eat every last one of them!"

The voice echoing in my head makes me roll my eyes and talk back.

"…Please. Just keep it down a bit, Venom."

"Huh!? What was that, Eddie!? You got a problem with me!?"

Yeah. Tons.

I’m still pissed about that time we got roped into joining some weirdo team just to take down Spider-Man.

In the end, we fought some walking powder keg and barely made it out alive… I got nothing out of it.

I’m Eddie Brock. A reporter for the Daily Globe.

…Well, more of a freelance journalist than a staff reporter.

I mostly just sell them stories.

And—

"Hey Eddie, look at her! That ass is massive!"

The giddy voice in my head isn’t just my imaginary friend.

It’s Venom—or that’s what he calls himself.

He’s what you’d call a Symbiote, an alien lifeform that survives by bonding with a host.

We met about a year ago when I was investigating this sketchy company called the Life Foundation. One thing led to another… and that’s when we crossed paths.

And now—

"Mr. Eddie Brock. Direct contact with the inmate is prohibited. Please keep your interaction verbal only. And… be careful."

"Got it."

I nod at the guard’s warning and walk through the open door.

At the center of the wide, hall-like room is a single glass-walled chamber.

A room with zero privacy. But I don’t feel even a shred of sympathy.

Because the guy inside? He deserves this.

I call out to him.

"Nice to meet you… Mr. Cletus Kasady. Mind if I ask you a few questions?"

The man inside the glass cell, reading a newspaper, turns around.

A face with sharp cheekbones.

Wide, unblinking eyes.

A scrawny frame.

My first impression in a word? Unstable.

Cletus Kasady is a serial killer.

He’s been charged with more murders than you can count.

And honestly, that’s probably just the ones the police managed to uncover. He’s likely killed far more.

Men and women.

Children with bright futures.

Elderly folks nearing their end.

Tough men.

Beautiful women.

He killed them all—without discrimination. Equal opportunity slaughter.

He’s a raving psychopath.

He was previously held at the Ravencroft Institute for the Criminally Insane.

They call it a psychiatric hospital, but really, it’s more like a prison for people too dangerous to ever be released into society.

He broke out of there… and caused more mayhem.

Now he’s locked up here in New York’s Rikers Island Prison, but eventually, he’ll be sent back to Ravencroft.

Once you’re in Ravencroft, you don’t come out. No outside contact. No way to reach in or out.

I’m not here because I’m interested in Cletus Kasady.

I’m interested in Ravencroft.

What goes on inside?

Is there something wrong with the place?

That’s what I came here to find out—why I went out of my way to visit Rikers Island.

…but I’m already starting to regret it.

"Nice to meet you, Eddie Brock. I’ve been so looking forward to this."

From behind the glass-walled room, Cletus Kasady grinned like a beast.

...Honestly, animals behind zoo bars seem tamer than him.

That’s the thought that crossed my mind.