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11 | BREAK



LAURA



The Daily Globe headquarters was a concrete wonder. Being one of the biggest newspaper companies in New York and currently immersed in a head-on rivalry with the Daily Bugle, it flaunted a thirty-five story glass structured marvel and top-paid successful columnists cum news-reporters. They set the standards for best critics and reviews hence rejected my application for a two-month internship with them. But who was I kidding, I knew rookie me didn't stand a chance. 

With that being said, Eddie Brock was a prized possession to them; chiefly because of the sour honesty he owned and his mind-blowing series of scoops that he wrote for the newspaper. Subsequently, their TRP rating shot through the stratosphere after the former investigative show, the Eddie Brock Report. Following the whole Carlton Drake situation and rehiring, Eddie gave up the show and went back to working on his thrilling articles. Which I, till date, did not get.

'Why are we here again?' 

Eddie had his head down low as he ushered me into the elevator with a hand on my back. All the employees who walked in had noticed Eddie but kept their prying gazes somewhere else. That was how intimidating he was. To me, he was a cerebral peacenik. 'I'm here to gain some intel on Malik. You just tagged along.'

We are not his sidekick!

'We're not.' I rolled my eyes and leaned onto the steel railing of the rising elevator. It paused on every floor, some moving in and others out. I found myself wedged between the wall and Eddie's chest. The balding, chubby man in a sleek suit right in front of the door looked so familiar.

He's got a lot of flesh . . . we must have him.

'Oh, God.' I murmured. 'I'll get something more appetizing to eat.'

He looks appetizing. 

'Stop talking. Just please, stop talking.'

Eddie nudged my elbow. I looked up and saw him mouthing, 'Is it Sin?'  I nodded without hesitation and rubbed my stomach, signifying his hunger. A short chuckle burst out of him. 

I continued to stare at the back of the familiar man's head till I gasped softly and realized who it was. Tugging on Eddie's arm savagely, I tiptoed to murmur into his ear. 'Is that the Barney Buskin?'

A tiny smile broke out on his face when he whispered back. 'Yeah, that's my boss.'

I tiptoed again. 'Would it be the wrong time to sweet talk him into giving me a job offer?'

I was relieved knowing there was no chance Bushkin would've heard it with my expert whispering skills. Eddie's grin widened when he brushed his lips over my ear. 'He ain't worth your time. You should work for me, though. I'd definitely hire you.'

I rolled my lips into my teeth to restrain laughter, following him out of the elevator when we arrived at our floor. Barney and Eddie exchanged smiles but cast me a doubtful glance. I sprinted past the sliding doors without another word.

Close call. 

Matching my pace to Eddie's, I walked close by in the corridors so as to not get caught by the rest of the staff. Glass-doored and curtained cubicles passed by as we entered into a door labeled 'Eddie Brock' in notable, golden letters. His room was the only wooden doored cubicle. 

'Wow,' I murmured as I stepped in, assessing the scope of his office. It was compact but spacious, littered with stacks of papers and recording devices on most of the shelves and sitting spaces. It was a writer's heaven, most of the pinned corkboards fitted with unknown faces, facts, and sticky notes. 

'Here,' he said as I faced him. In his hands was a badge that spelled out trainee in block letters and the Daily Globe emblem. I frowned at it as he hooked it onto my blouse. 

'You stay here and don't move,' he ordered and he narrowed his eyes on warning. 'I mean it, Sharp.'

'Why can't I come with you?'

'Because you could get arrested,' he said. 'You're already in deep shit as it is.'

He's not wrong.

'Okay fine,' I sighed. 'But, I should be able to help out around here, right? Articles or notes . . . and please tell me you have a snacks stash or something.'

Eddie tucked his chin at the idea and looked to the shelves. He hummed in thought and sifted through boxes under his table that was gathering dust. Grabbing one, he slammed it down on the desk and rapped it.

'All the pieces on Keith Malik and Life Foundation that have hit the press. Carlton Drake is right beside you and snacks' on the second shelf.'

Second shelf. Now.

Restraining myself, I crossed my arms and played dumb by tapping my chin. 'I wonder what you're forgetting.'

Eddie dropped his shoulders with false effort and rounded his desk to grab my hands into warm ones. He squeezed them lightly, bringing them to his lips. 'It's too unsafe, doll. The security is over tight and I can't afford to put your career at risk.'

'My career?' I scoffed.

One side of his lips pulled up. 'Y'know what I mean.' He leaned forward to press a chaste kiss over my mouth and let my hands go. I missed the warmness already. 

'See you in a while.'



- ♣ -



To say Eddie Brock was the embodiment of popular was an understatement. In the past thirty minutes of leaving me to stifle through the crates, four executives had walked in and asked for him. And every single time someone rapped the door, my heart went on overdrive. I didn't know why even though Sin kept watch.

Speaking of Sin, I was indulged in a conversation about his former symbiote father's memories. I spoke with a piece of chocolate in my mouth. 'Wait, Riot was a leader? And he could wield scythes as hands?'

Yes. We have many tricks up our sleeves, too.

'Really?' I mused flipping through another useless folder on Life Foundation and it's technological advancements. I'd finished both the crates in record time, most of them serving to be futile. Biting the chocolate bar, I hummed. 'Like what?'

We are agile and faster than most. I was engineered to be more active than the rest so I can go for long without food. We can even camouflage.

'As in go invisible?'

Exactly.

I sneered as it struck me. 'Then why the hell didn't you say that when Eddie was around?'

Because we shouldn't be in danger. You should be healthy and safe. For survival. 

I growled under my breath and sank deeper into the master chair. It was a waste sulking over a matter that was never going to happen in any way. I flipped a page on a random to-be-published article on Eddie's table. The headlines mentioned something about a fire in Queens, a certain superhero going by the name 'Spiderman' rushing to the scene to save the civilians trapped in the building. Wow, heroic indeed. 

The corner of the photo was trademarked, with the name of the photographer scribbled in minute letters. Peter Parker, it spelled out. 

'Why can't we be superheroes?' I said. 'Sin saves a bank fro robbery. Sounds nice, right?'

We should stay out of sight. I have to keep you safe.

'But we've got all the cool know-how.'

You mustn't get hurt. If you get hurt, I could lose you.

'You sound like an over-protective lover. It's really awkward sometimes.'

 I need to protect you from harm. I can't lose a perfectly good host.

'Just tone it down, will you?' I said with a witty roll of my eyes. Inspecting the photo closer, I ran a finger through the red-and-blue suited hero and through the fringes of the fire captured in the picture. Malik Enterprises, the bold, burnt down characters spelled out over the building. 

'You seeing this?' I whispered.

Yes. Look to the left corner. That man.

Following Sin's directions, I dragged my finger across the photo and my eyes nearly rolled out of their sockets. 

At the farthest corner was Keith Malik cum Tel-Kar himself, failing to hide among the masses and only to get caught despite the thick hoodie that concealed his head. His face was as clear as day if you looked close enough, his eyes sporting a walking-dead like look. 

They weren't bonded yet. Maybe the symbiote was rejecting Keith on purpose. 

'I think we found Venom. And our missing alien.'




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