That night, Sasha's live stream of my heroic cat-saving feats was posted online and shared and shared and shared. There were plenty of sceptics who said that the post was a hoax, and that remained the consensus for a few days until more videos began popping up from other people, as well as story-time posts from people I had helped. 

It had only taken a week after that for people to start realising that there really was a guy in a skin-tight black suit (which people kept assuming was spandex which made Gia fume with rage) flying around with actual wings and helping people.

The news reported on me, and the Parliament had gathered on my couch to watch the news, somewhat shocked that I was actually appearing there. In their eyes, I was still their mildly idiotic pothead friend, but on the screen I was being hailed as things far more complimentary than that. Community angel, real superhero, saviour, and Messenger of God had been some of the headlines that had become trending hashtags, alongside Black Dove and Birdboy (which made me yell out 'fake news' at the very inaccurate use of 'boy').

It wasn't just the media that were milking the hell out of me. Scientists immediately gathered and had lengthy discussions trying to figure out what the fuck I was, and the animal activists had apparently started using my image as some kind of propaganda tool, saying that I was the product of horrific animal experiments. At least, that was one group of animal activists. An opposing group  had popped up in retaliation to their beliefs, and said that I was actually some kind of olive branch between the humans and animals, literally a sign that we can coexist peacefully.

Two bunches of nutjobs, was what I thought about those guys. I mean, I'm all for saving the animals, but these guys had basically made some new religion around me, and I didn't exactly want to become a Gen Z Jesus Christ. Superhero, yes. Figurehead of a new religious cult? No thank you.

For the most part, people were wild about me. I mean, people started making merchandise with my image plastered all over them. Fan art had been made, songs had been written, and I was very smug when numerous fan pages cropped up. My favourite was the 'Cum for Black Dove' fan page, which consisted of nothing more than thirst posts for me. Milo had been livid for a day and almost used his hacking skills to obliterate the page from the endless abyss of the internet, but I had begged him not to.

With my mouth. And I didn't mean using it to talk.

I had become positively famous and it was great because they didn't know who I really was. When I went out as Black Dove, people would recognise me and it filled me with an unexplainable rush when I realised that people knew me. Saw me. Thought about me. Even cared about me. And that was amazing, but I still loved being able to go out as just Culver Fleet and not get hounded. 

I did have haters, though, as any semi-famous person would have. There were quite a few people who thought I was a freak, but to be honest, those people were racists in general so I didn't give two fucks about their opinions. Some people mocked me because I was being called a superhero despite 'only doing things any regular good samaritan would do', and thought I was lame. Again, these people were probably 11-year-old trolls who threw temper tantrums when their mums took away their wifi privileges. Also, can't forget the mildly homicidal hunting society, who made it clear that I would be great prey instead of the usual fowls they shot for fun.

But these people were just dicks, and despite loving dick I only liked very specific dick, so I pushed those people out of my mind. I often found Milo sitting up in bed with the glow of his laptop on his face, obliterating people through his keyboard with a vengeance. He would stop when I would sleepily smile at him and shuffle closer, grumbling about how he wasn't doing his job as my boyfriend by not snuggling me. 

Everything was working out, and life had never been better. I was helping people, I was a legitimate superhero, and I had the best bloody boyfriend in the world.

Yeah, life was great.

***

It was late on a Thursday night when I was abruptly woken up from my poorly-timed nap by Milo frantically shaking my shoulders. I groaned, swatting away his hands.

"Nooo, why are you waking me up you handsome buttface?" I whined groggily, Milo's hands unrelenting as they shook me. 

"C! This is serious! There's something happening at Lark's uni!" Milo said, voice thick with urgency, which made sleep vanish from me in a split second. I sat up, Milo quickly climbing out of bed and rushing to my wardrobe, throwing my super suit at me.

"What's happening? Is Lark okay?" I asked, not questioning anything and quickly pulling on my suit, which was now second nature to me. I was pulling on my goggles when Milo clicked a few things on his phone, images being sent directly in front of my retinas. "Oh my God."

It was a live newsfeed of a raging fire at Lark's university, with a black wall of smoke billowing up into the pitch dark midnight. The fire casted a menacing red glow against my eyes, me stomach dropping when I recognised the building. I had been there, multiple times.

It was Lark's dorm building.

"Oh, fuck. Oh my God, Lark, fuck, is she okay, oh my God," I chanted to myself, scrambling to the window to open it, not bothering  to take the time to head out the front or back door. 

"Go, C! I'll keep an eye on things and update you. Hurry, but be careful," Milo said, touching my back with worry before I launched out of the window, panic settling inside me. 

I didn't need Milo's fancy GPS  system to know where to go - all I had to do was fly in a straight line towards the blazing inferno that was spiralling up into the sky. 

"Emergency services are there, but the fire is getting worse. Reports say there are still students trapped in there," Milo said, pulling on his glasses as his fingers frantically clacked on his keyboard, brow furrowed and eyes flitting from side to side as he read. 

"Lark?"

"Can't tell, I've tapped into the security cameras at the form, but most of them are fried, and I can only see fire and smoke from the few that are working," Milo said.

"Fuck, fuck!" I cursed, forcing my wings to flap harder and for the wind to be at my back. As I neared, the group of nosy spectators outside began to cheer as they spotted me, but I didn't offer them my usual camera-hogging love as I usually did, dropping right beside a firefighter that seemed like he was in charge. 

"What's happening?" I asked, voice desperate, the man shocked silent at the sight of me for a moment before his brain caught up. 

"The kids on the first floor escaped, and a few of my men went in and got most of the students out from the second and third floors, but the fire's gotten too big and I'm going to have to pull them out," the man said, face looking as devastated as the feeling inside my chest. Lark was on the third floor. An image of Lark lying on the floor being eaten by flames, her beautiful face screaming as smoke filled her lungs and fire consumed her made me want to retch in my mask. "We had  a ladder team on the east side, but the building's about to collapse and I'm sure there are still people-"

"Fuck!" I yelled, knowing that Lark's room was exactly where the firefighter was saying he completely cleared out. I turned quickly, the firefighter scrambling to try and stop me.

"It's too dangerous, even for you!" he shouted, but I was already hurtling towards  the building. I threw myself at a window on the third floor, smashing through the glass with my metal talons, and rolling as I landed. I immediately coughed as I sucked up a good mouthful of smoke. 

Fuck, why can't this just be weed-infused smoke and not Lark's potentially barbecued body-infused smoke.

"C! Don't! It's too dangerous!" Milo screamed as I ran forwards, my wings curling around me protectively as I made my way to Lark's room. "C! Don't do it! You're gonna die!"

"I have to get to Lark!" I choked, coughing. Flames licked at my wings and heat danced across my kevlar-clad skin, and my ski goggles weren't appropriately equipped to keep the smoke from stinging my eyes. 

"C, your suit isn't made for this. Fuck, you're not made for this! C, we didn't prepare for this, please get out. Please get out! Fuck, I never should have agreed to this, C, please," Milo pleaded, and in the image of him at the corner of my smoggy lens I could see that he was on his feet, desperately leaning on the desk and screaming into the microphone. His face was twisted in terror as his eyes were focused off camera, likely watching the numerous screens in front of him.

I didn't answer Milo, opening my mouth hurting as I barrelled my way down the halls. When I got to Lark's door, I kicked it down, bursting in. 

"Lark!" I shouted, and almost started crying when I saw her with a jumper pushed over her mouth, hands waving out of the window with frenzied motions, trying to catch the attention of the firefighters that couldn't get into the building. Lark whirled around at the sound of her name, and didn't a beat before flinging herself at me, sobbing into my shoulder. 

"Culver!" Lark cried, her slender body shaking as her she began spewing panicked, traumatised sentences. "I saw them helping the people a few windows down, but then they suddenly left and then there was crashing and then the roof started falling and all the smoke and I thought I was gonna die and then you came and- oh my God. There are other people still trapped and-" I felt sick when I saw Lark's hands bleeding red, likely from the broken glass that was scattered over the windowsill and floor when she had apparently taken a lamp to it.

Apparently bolting the windows shut to prevent students from jumping out of windows didn't do her any favours in this situation.

"Oh my God, she's alive," Milo said, and I could see him collapse into his chair, hands in his hair as he seemed to struggle to breathe.

"I'm here, I'm here," I said, voice wrecked with smoke. I tightened my grip on Lark, pushing her face against my shoulder. "Hold onto my neck real tight, okay?" I could feel Lark nodding, and I quickly pulled the two of us through the window, diving out. 

I could hear people yelling as the two of us tumbled out of the window, Lark screaming as the wind whipped at her. New cameras immediately spun to catch us as I flew us away from the building, dropping her directly onto an outstretched ambulance bed, the paramedics screaming in shock.  

Lark's arms were shaking around me, locked and not wanting to let go. 

"Lark, Lark, you're fine now, okay? You can let go," I said, prying her hands off me, but keeping a tight hold on her wrists, wary of the gashes on her palms. 

"Wh-Where are you going?" Lark asked as the paramedics circled around her, and I pressed a kiss to her hands through my mask, trying to reassure her. 

"To, you know, do my job," I croaked.

"I knew it was you," Lark whispered as I stepped back, giving me a watery smile before the paramedics forced her to lie down. "The kevlar gave it away."

"Cheeky," I said, before launching back into the air. "Milo - I mean, Eagle Eye - can you locate the people still trapped on the 3rd floor?"

"Yeah, news cams got them," Milo said, his voice shaking as he swallowed, looking like he was about to burst into tears, but keeping himself together as he pulled up images onto my screen. "Don't go inside again, C, you can just fly them down from their windows. Please."

"Gotcha," I said, Milo slumping in his chair, rubbing at his eyes, a motion that made my chest ache. "Sorry I scared you."

"Apologise to me when you get back in one piece, idiot," Milo said, face jerking back into neutrality, though his eyes were rimmed red.

"Okay, baby," I said before swooping down.

To all of the 11-year-old trolls saying I was a fake hero? Fuck you.