chapter three
003. just the facts

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    HER WINDOW was always open.

    She didn't even know why. But she had to always have in open▬just in case. Just in case. In case of what? Nina Hart didn't truly know why. She just had to have it open▬just in case. Just in case he showed up. Just in case he needed her.

    Just in case.

    Once upon a time, Nina knew Spider-Man. Nina knew him very well. She knew that his favourite colour was red, she knew how incredibly smart he was, she knew how incredible and kind he was, how his favourite food▬other than pizza▬was sandwiches from Mr. Delmar's shop in Queens. She memorised hte sound of his voice and his laugh▬always a little muffled behind his mask. She knew almost every secret except the biggest secret of them all▬who Spider-Man truly was. Because now, she understood, she never really knew Spider-Man that much at all.

    He hadn't shown up at her open window in a long time now. Almost a year. Not since what happened at the Statue of Liberty halfway through Nina's senior year in high school. Before then, Spider-Man showed up all the time. She had helped him stop supervillians and criminals▬worked behind the scenes and late at night in her room, keeping quiet so her parents never found out. She had opened up to him in ways she had never opened up to anyone. He was her best friend▬so she had thought. Perhaps, he had been more than that.

    They never got to see whether they could be more. 

    Now, all she was, was the girl he had left behind▬watching from the windows and staring up at the skies from the sidewalk. He had forgotten about her and went on with his life like she had never even existed. Nina used to wonder why▬was it to protect her? Was it because he realised earlier than her that they could have never worked out? Or was it because the reality was, Nina had always been a part of Spider-Man's life, not apart of the life of whoever existed behind the mask. That man was a stranger to her▬a mystery she could not solve.

    Nina Hart tapped her pen against her cheek, frowning over her study notes alone in one of the common rooms at her residential hall on the N.Y.U. campus. She was having a hard time concentrating. She had left her chemistry class for the library, hoping to be able to go over her lecture in peace▬when that didn't work, she tried her dorm, but her roommate was working on her presentation. So, Nina found herself here, completely alone with soft piano covers of Taylor Swift songs playing through her headphones. And still, she couldn't concentrate.

    She sighed and sat back in the chair, grabbing her phone and checking her messages. Nina scrolled through instagram, liking some of the other residents' photos she had seen around the halls, checking the reels her high school friend Michelle Jones sent her from where she was currently studying at M.I.T. in Boston, and responded to Felicia Hardy's text asking whether she wanted to catch up on the weekend.

    Nina had started to have problems with getting distracted recently▬her mind always seemed to be adrift, like it was lost and always searching, but could never find what it was searching for. But it still tried. She had been to the doctor, her father had gotten her an appointment with the psychiatrist. They tried to diagnose her with ADHD, but she didn't check enough boxes. They considered sending her to a psychologist, thinking that perhaps her state was linked to depression, or was a trauma response after all she's been through▬and she didn't blame them. She had almost died▬the Green Goblin had almost killed her if the Amazing Spider-Man hadn't saved her. There were plenty of times Nina could have died if she hadn't been saved by her superhero friend▬no matter what universe he was from. Perhaps it was all, at last, finally catching up with her.

    So much so that not even the excercises they had her do▬countless of them▬seemed to work in helping her mind stop itself from drifting, lost, on its vast and endless ocean.

    Nina didn't know how to explain it to them▬because she knew they wouldn't listen. What could she tell them without them thinking she was crazy? (Or more crazy than they already believed?). How could Nina Hart tell them that she felt like she should know something, but didn't. That there was something hanging off the tip of her tongue▬a word she wanted to say but never could. How she spent ages trying to finish the lyrics of a song she couldn't name or describe. How all the photos in her room just weren't right▬how they were off centre, how they were blurry, how they weren't complete, how there was a shoulder without a face and she couldn't remember who it belonged to, and it was driving her mad because she felt like she should▬she felt it so deep in her chest that it hurt, right where her heart was supposed to be.

    There was so much missing in her life and her memory. But she didn't know what. She didn't know how to replace it. She didn't know if there was anything that could. Her life felt like a book with half of the pages ripped out out and missing, a photobook with empty picture slots; a story that wasn't just incomplete and unfinished, but without character, without development, without something vital and so it was scrapped, and forgotten, and thrown under the bed to never be looked at again.

    How could she ever tell anyone that?

    And so, she kept her window open▬just in case.

    Nina continued to frown at the news report on her phone about the high speed chase this morning with Spider-Man, her blonde hair falling low around her face over white noise-cancelling headphones. Chipped orange nail polish on her fingernails pressed against her plump cheeks as she rested her face against the palm of her hand. She continued to scroll, but she wasn't paying that much attention. So much so that when fingers snapped in front of her eyes, she jumped.

    She pulled her headphones down to rest on her neck and paused her music, glancing over her shoulder. Nina's heart jumped, but then relaxed and she let out an exasperated sigh when she realised who it was. She rolled her eyes, a small pretty smile tugging at the corner of her plump lips despite it. She looked up at the boyish, mischevious grin watching her. "God, Harry▬you scared me!"

    Harry Osborn chuckled and held up his hands in gentle surrender. "Sorry, couldn't help myself."

     Nina tilted her head, biting her lip to hide her want to grin▬feeling a giddiness in her stomach she hadn't felt in a long time until she met Harry Osborn. Harry had this cheeky look about him no matter how hard he tried▬a mirthful glint in his eye under messy curls and a crooked grin that uplifted everyone's spirit and made them wary of whatever he could be planning at the same time. He was lively, he was exciting and sometimes was so high he never truly knew how to come back down to earth. But despite this, he was kind, charming and he was sweet. Most of all, he was incredibly loyal. When Nina needed someone to listen, he was there. When she wanted someone to drag with her to the 7-Eleven down the street for a late night snack, Harry was eager to join. When Nina wanted to vent about her classes, talk through her notes or simply have another body with her when studying, Harry put his hand up. He showed up in her life from one day to the next since she met him during Orientation Week▬and she had never been able to get rid of him since, but she didn't want to.

    Sure, there were people who called him obnoxious. There were some who turned up their noses at him because of all of the drama surrounding his father, Norman Osborn and his new, successful science and technology research company OSCORP. And yes, Harry might be self-assured, and he had never known anything but privelage▬but Nina knew him well; so very well. She knew him back to front, not because she had to investigate and dig into his mystery, but because he showed her▬and wanted to.

    Harry pulled the next chair over, dragging it along the carpet of the common room to sit close beside Nina. His long legs stretched out underneath the table she sat at and he tugged at his dark blue sweater sleeves▬pulling them low over his wrists to try and stay warm. "So, what're you doing here all by your lonesome?"

    Nina gestured at her laptop and notes with a chuckle. "Trying to study▬what else does it look like I'm doing?"

    Harry reached over and tapped the screen of her phone as the light dimmed, keeping it open on the article she was reading. He arched a brow at the breaking news headline. "'Spider-Man, Spider-Man, Does Whatever A Spider-Can'...? They're not really getting any more original with these headlines are they?"

    "Okay," Nina dragged her phone back towards her, shooting Harry a playful scowl at the dubious purse of his lips. "Trying was the key word there."

    He nodded, frowning and pretending to take her words seriously. She chuckled and lightly shoved him, shaking her head with a soft smile. Harry smiled, too, before propping his elbow on the table and setting his chin on the palm of his hand. As Nina grabbed her pen and tried to focus back on her work, she felt his gaze watching her intently. She glanced at him and felt her heart flutter. "What are you doing?" she chuckled.

    "I'm looking at you," answered Harry Osborn simply.

    Nina's shoulders hunched and she pursed her lips, easily flustered. Her cheeks dusted with pink. "Well, can you stop? I need to get these notes done."

    "Right, definitely," he didn't stop and she bit her lip once again, trying not to look at him but couldn't help the shy brief glances she sent him through her hair.

    Harry smiled, but he didn't tease her anymore. Instead, he sat up and pulled out his phone. "So, I got these tickets to see that Avengers Musical on Broadway. Gwen and I are going but I have one left with your name on it?" he tilted his head at her, his tone hanging off the edge of his seat as he waited in anticipation for her answer.

    Nina finished the sentence she was writing before meeting his gaze. She looked down at the tickets he showed her on his phone, and her heart leapt with shock and excitement▬but also nerves that fluttered in the pit of her stomach, because even with Gwen there, it almost felt intimate between her and Harry. Her breath hitched softly▬admittedly because she had been wanting to go and see the Avengers Musical for ages now. "When?" she asked softly.

    "Tonight, seven o'clock. Good seats too."

    She gaped at him, shocked. "Harry," she whispered, smacking him with a soft chiding breath. She didn't like it when he spent so much money on them▬especially her. Because she had no way to repay him. But Harry didn't care. To him, it was just his father's money▬and he was at that stage in life when the most rebellious thing he could do, and loved to do, was spend Norman Osborn's money on things he would call a waste of time.

     "What?" he hunched up, acting innocent. "C'mon, Nina▬" he coaxed her with a nudge of his elbow against her arm. "This is the only break we get before midterms get hectic▬we should take it and watch an actor play Captain America and sing in tights."

    Nina rolled her eyes once more, pursing her lips in her stubborn attempt to not seem so easily convinced. But, in the end, she sighed and shrugged. "Well, I guess if you bought the tickets, we don't wanna waste them..." she mumbled and Harry broke out into an ecstatic grin.

    He drummed a loud pattern on the desk, letting out a soft laugh in his sheer happiness and excitement that Nina decided to go. She rolled her eyes and quickly held out her hands to him. "Shhh! Shhh!" she laughed, too▬she couldn't help it. Harry was just such a joyful personality in her life she never knew she needed until he showed up, and now she didn't know how she lived through every day without him. "Stop▬be quiet!" chuckled Nina and hugged his arm. "You're so loud, people will hear."

    "Oh, come on," he smiled down at her. "There's no one here."

    Nina rested her cheek on his arm and glanced up shyly to meet his gentle stare. She blushed and bit back her smile. Then, she pulled away and gathered her things. "I should head back up▬make sure I have an outfit for tonight." She stood up and squeezed his shoulder with a sweet touch. "Thanks, Harry."

    Walking away, Nina Hart couldn't hide the estatic grin on her face. She even had a little skip to her stride as she leapt up the stairwell two steps at a time to her floor. All of her first semester, she had been trying to get Harry to ask her out▬she had been throwing in hints, subtly flirting and trying to see whether he felt the same way about her that she did him. And, yes, this show wasn't one they were going to go see alone, but that didn't mean Nina couldn't test the waters in the shadows of the theatre sitting beside him. This could lead into a proper date▬something more, and in perfect time for the holidays, and Nina was filled with light-hearted, giddy butterflies in her stomach. 

    When she reached her dorm, she swiped her key card and opened the handle with her elbow. She pushed with her shoulder and slipped inside▬wincing when she couldn't catch the handle quick enough, and the door closed loudly behind her. 

    Her roommate jumped at the sound▬so engrossed in her work on her bed on the left-hand side of the room that she hadn't noticed until now. Gwen Stacy pulled out her airpods from underneath pretty blonde hair, pausing her music and tilting her head at the grin on Nina's face. 

    She soon understood. "He asked you, didn't he?" she smiled as well.

    "Yes!" squealed Nina and ran to her desk, flopping down her notes and laptop as gently as the occasion called for before rushing over to Gwen's bed and leaping onto it. "Tonight's the night, Gwen!"  

    Gwen laughed and moved her laptop out of the way, watching as her best friend fell back onto her pillows and dazed up at the ceiling fan with a bright, wonderful beaming smile. She sighed wistfully, shaking her head as if she couldn't quite believe what just happened. 

    "I can't say I'm looking to third wheeling the entire night, but I'm happy for you," said Gwen, pushing her black headband back to try and keep her bangs out of her eyes, but they fell anyway, hovering over pretty blue eyes. She tucked her stocking cladded legs underneath her purple skirt and leaned back on her hands against her bed. 

    "Oh, I won't do anything to make you feel uncomfortable," promised Nina, propping herself up on her elbows. But then she grinned and sqealed once more, dropping back down onto Gwen's pillows. "But oh, my God, Gwen! It finally happened! I don't know how many times I've pushed and prodded him▬I thought he'd never do it!"

    She gasped and quickly reached for her phone. "I gotta tell Cia, Ned and MJ!"

    Gwen closed her laptop before hugging one of her pillows to her chest. Gwen Stacy was another face Nina was incredibly grateful to find here at N.Y.U. Everyone she had known back at Midtown High were either going to E.S.U. or M.I.T. in Boston▬only she decided to take the leap and enrol in the college she has wanted to go to since she was little. But it also meant she was alone walking onto campus for the first time. Nina wasn't the most outgoing person, and while she always seemed to gravitate people towards her, she was never good at making close friends she felt like she could open up to. She had a tendency to reflect the person she was talking to▬in being the person everyone else wanted her to be, but never taking a moment to let people see past the glass of her mirrorball to show who she truly was inside. Perhaps it was because she was so used to keeping secrets▬especially when it came to helping out Spider-Man back in high school. Or perhaps Nina was always like this. She never had close friends as a kid▬she had been quite alone, even in crowds of people until she got into Midtown and Felicia Hardy decided to sit next to her in class. She had been so used to being alone▬until Felicia showed her that she didn't have to be. 

    She thought she'd have a similar problem here at N.Y.U. But then Nina met Harry, and her roommate Gwen. She and Gwen hit it off straight away▬they were both studying biochemistry, both were eager to change the world for the better in science, and somehow managed to even apply for the same classes. It was as if the universe had always meant for them to be best friends, but had simply waited until that perfect day before finally bringing them together. And it was as if they had reuited instead of meeting each other for the very first time. 

    And yet, Nina still felt ... empty, almost. She wasn't alone▬all the friends she had made since high school have proven to her that she was no longer a lonely background character in a world full of superheroes and supervillains. But no matter how many people she met and how many friends she made, there was something that she was missing. An ache in her chest as if someone had ripped out a part of her heart and never told her. She was always searching to find something to fill it again▬to find the part of her that had been stolen away. 

    She never has. 

    Maybe she never will. 

    And so, she kept her window open▬just in case.

    Just in case. 

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    THE DAILY BUGLE had come a long way from being a web television series and podcast. Now, the infamous news broadcast had its own time slot on everyones TV set at home, its own printed newspaper and a place to call home in Midtown. Grace Avery stared up at the bright red letters standing tall across the highrise rooftop▬and felt as though the entire complex was looming and leaning over her, ready to fall. She shook her head and took a deep breath, surrounded by the noise of busy traffic and swarmed by the buzzing afternoon pedestrian hive moving to and fro. She clutched her tote bag over her shoulder with a vice tight grip, trying to calm the nerves she got whenever she stepped through the front doors into the Daily Bugle's lobby. She's been an intern here for just over a month now, and still, she couldn't shake her apprehension and excitement every time she arrived. 

    For the short time its come out on top on the local broadcast news stations in New York, the Daily Bugle has continued to rise above as a favourite▬whether it be full-fledged believes that took the words written on their newspapers and spoken over the television as gospel, or scoffed every time J. Jonah Jameson's voice appeared on his podcast, everyone couldn't help but listen and buy their papers to look at their headlines▬eager to hear the exclusive news they always had on the superhero and supervillain antics in the Big Apple. From Spider-Man to the Fantastic Five to speculation on who the new team of Avengers might recruit, and even opinion pieces on philanthropists, well-known leaders of organised crime and any new up and coming villains▬the Daily Bugle wrote about it all. Their tabloids and specials on television managed to bring investigative journalism back to life▬and everyone couldn't get enough of it. 

    And one day, people were going to read her byline on one of those papers, listen to her stories on the broadcast news, get to know her name as one of the best journalists the Daily Bugle would have to offer. Grace Avery could see it every time she stared up at those big red letters towering over the streets in Midtown▬and it helped her bypass her nerves and place a determined, confident smile on her face before stepping through the front doors. 

    Grace passed through the many faces▬most of which she didn't know▬as she marched her way across the lobby. She smiled at reception before hurrying towards the elevators. She only just managed to slip inside before the doors closed, pressing her level before hugging her bag close. Grace stood there awkwardly in the centre of the full elevator, surrounded by journalists, editors, administration staff and aspiring writers much older and way more experienced than her. She watched the numbers go up and up until they landed on her level. Grace awkwardly cleared her throat and made sure she was the first one to step out.

    Shouldering her bag properly, she set her chin up high and walked through the aisles of desks and computers▬feeling like she had taken a step back in time to when journalism was at its peak, and it made her smile. It made her think back to everyone in her life so far who had told her to focus on something else▬that it would lead her to a dead end▬and realise that they were wrong, because here Grace was, and here Grace was going to stay until she achieved everything she ever dreamed▬until she proved everyone wrong. 

    Grace kept walking, her confidence easily returning. She lifted her hand to wave at a sports writer, Max Igoe, who she sees everyday. He frowned at her and returned it▬a little dubious before looking away, focusing on whoever he were speaking with on the phone. Grace's smile faltered a little, but she didn't let it get to her. She fixed her shoulders and continued on, pushing the embarassing moment far into the back of her mind before she finally made it to her desk in the far▬far▬corner, hidden away from everyone else next to the broken, ancient fax and broken, equally as ancient photocopier that no one cared to fix. 

    She dropped her bag down and sat on the edge of her chair. She wheeled it closer to her desk and turned on her keyboard and mouse. As she waited ages for the old computer to load, she glanced over at all the other writers and editors scattered across the floor▬all of them surrounded by the action she one day wished to get while she was stuck in the dustiest shadow, forgotten and thrown away. But Grace made the best of it. Because she was here, right? She had a step through the door▬that was more than anyone who didn't. 

    Opening up her emails, she huffed a soft sigh at the list of things she needed to get done. Her afternoon was going to be full of coffee runs, last minute checks of other's reports before sending them to the editor, and scrolling through endless editorials and opinion pieces▬no chance to offer something of her own on the table. 

    But she will make the best of it. She was here. That was one step infront of anyone who wasn't. 

    She decided to start with what she wanted to do the least▬the editorials. She was going to have to read through dozens and dozens of submissions all saying the same thing: either for Spider-Man or against Spider-Man. The webslinger was the Daily Bugle's hot topic, and everyone wanted a say about the masked vigilante more than any other superhero▬even argued with each other submission after submission until Grace wanted to smack her head on the table every day she had to go through them. 

    Grace was going through the first submission on her list▬an angry note to J. Jonah Jameson from an anonymous plumber who had gotten his feelings and pride hurt the one time he had called the Just the Facts podcast, and continuously liked to put in his opinion through to the editorial every chance he got.

    Then, fingers drummed over the edge of her desk's cube. Fingertips tapped along her post-it notes she had pinned to the board▬all of them scribbles of ideas she had for the E.S.U. paper and avenues she hoped to one day explore when she got the chance to shadow a journalist or even write her own blog on the Daily Bugle website. 

    Grace glanced up and smiled when Randy's bright smile greeted her▬and evidently made her feel ten times better. "Hey," she chuckled, watching him round her cube and drag a chair along to sit with her at ehr desk. "Shouldn't you be working?"

    "I'm on a break," he answered simply and she arched a brow. "What?" Randy said defensively and she smirked, amused. "I am."

    "So, you're not using my cube as a hiding place from your dad?" she crossed her arms, seeing right through him.

    "Never, just thought I'd visit you from the lonely politics corner," lied Randy and quickly gazed at the editorial she was going through. He winced, letting out a long and low sympathetic hiss through his teeth. "Damn, no wonder you hate Spider-Man. If I had to read that many editorials about him I'd hate him too."

    "I don't hate him," corrected Grace, her voice dropping to whisper▬as if expecting J. Jonah Jameson to jump out of nowhere and shout, 'MENACE!' at the meer mention of his favourite (least favourite) superhero. "He's just not my favourite. And a lot of these submissions make a lot of great points as to why he shouldn't be anyone's favourite. Where is your dad anyway?"

     "He's upstairs with the rest of the department editors," Randy Robertson swung his chair absent-mindedly as he watched Grace continue to work dilligently. "Talking with the Chief," he spoke of Jameson with a dramatic, ominous voice, "about headlines and front-page stories and whatever."

    Grace's shoulders fell. "What?" her heart fell, too, with disappointment. "They're doing the pitches already?" Once a month, one of the interns got chosen to pitch a story to their department chief editor to take up to Jameson during the briefing. Grace had worked as much as she could since she started her internship to be chosen this month in hopes of getting her article about the slective funding at E.S.U. printed. Robbie had said to her that if she worked hard, she would stand a chance against the other, older interns. 

    He hadn't promised anything▬but Grace had taken it as her ticket into getting noticed by the bigger players; she had seen it as her promise and her one chance, and she had manifested the vision of seeing her name in the paper▬no matter how far into the newspaper it was going to be▬so well, Grace had managed to convince herself that she'd get it. 

    That was her biggest problem. Because when things didn't go the way she wanted them to, she felt the disappointment like a mortal blow to her chest. 

    She swallowed harshly and frowned at her computer screen. "Who got it?" she muttered, unable to disguise her bitter sentiment.

    Randy hesitated. "Betty Brant."

    "Betty Brant?" 

    Betty Brant was a talented and motivated upcoming reporter who had been an intern since her senior years at high school. If she received the spot this month, it was well-deserved, and whatever story she pitched was bound to be interesting and thorough. But Grace's pride and struggle to handle rejection and disappointment never made her a graceful loser. 

     Randy pursed his lips, knowing her well enough to understand she didn't truly mean the harsh tone cutting sharp edges around Betty's name. "Next time, maybe?" he suggested, trying to ease the disappointment she took to heart. 

     "What did she even write about?" grumbled Grace, angrily pressing send on the editorial on her screen. 

    "I think she tackled the stories of the train drivers that went on strike a few weeks ago."

    Grace hesitated. Even in her bias, she could admit a good story when she heard one. "Right," she relented, nodding to herself. 

    "Look," sighed her friend, turning her chair to face him with his foot. Grace huffed again and gave him a stern look, but her frown softened at Randy's gentle, understanding smile. "I liked your article, and I'm sure my dad did, too. But it was ... passionate. And I know you're passionate about everything you write, but you gotta be as objective as you can▬even when writing an opinion or political piece. My dad always says he enjoys the story about the average person, about the true hearts of New York."

     "So you're saying next month I should look at strike workers?" Grace arched a brow.

    "I'm not saying copy what Betty did," said her friend, holding up his hands in surrender at the slightly more curt edge to her tone. "I'm saying next time, maybe listen to the voices of everyone, not just the voices you want to hear."

    "All I want to find out is the truth," she said stubbornly. "And the truth is colleges like E.S.U. don't care about the humanities▬they spend thousands of dollars on every science course there is, giving them flashy new equipment, scour the field for academics to teach them and make sure they hold their hands throughout their entire degrees. But us?" she gestured between her and Randy. "We're the ones that are left to struggle to even finish our degrees because they keep taking funding away. We are just as smart. We offer just as much potential, even if we don't stare through microscopes all day every day."

    "I agree with you. But if you want people to listen to what you're trying to say, you can't just tell them you're right, because you're right, you gotta show them. Show them our potential," Randy nudged her knee with his own, trying to cheer her up and bring back her confidence. "Show them the inequality in funding. Show them what humanities degrees can offer in this crazy world that sometimes feels more science fiction than reality."

    Grace pursed her lips, considering his words. Her frustration over not being first place made her want to snap and tell Randy that was what she had been doing all along, but she stayed quiet. Perhaps there was some truth to what he was saying▬perhaps she simply needed to look at it from a different angle. Not that it mattered anyway. Next month, she would have to find something new and exciting to pitch to Robbie. A story that he wouldn't be able to put down and ignore. 

    Their conversation settled when a shadow hovered nearby. Grace frowned, hearing footsteps walk up towards the photocopier near her desk and she quickly spun her chair around. "Oh, that photocopier doesn't work, you're gonna have to go upstairs..." her voice faded when she saw who it was. "Oh, you're kidding me..."

    The person who was nervously fidgeting by the photocopier turned around at the voice, and his shoulders immediately dropped with his nerves, and his expression went from surprise to deadpan annoyance in just seconds. "Oh, great," muttered Peter Parker.

    Randy glanced between the two of them, very confused but also feeling as though he had just been given a front row ticket to a spetacular show. "Oh, hello?"

    Grace crossed her arms and stared at Peter Parker, wondering what strange parallel universe she had landed on to find him here. "What are you doing here?"

    He clutched a small drive in his palm, pulling at his blue flannel▬suddenly feeling the need to wrap it around him as if that would somehow save him from Grace Avery's accusing, suspicious stare. Peter stammered slightly. "Uh▬" he showed her the drive. "I'm a freelance photographer." He frowned at her. "What are you doing here?"

    "Uh▬I work here," answered Grace. 

    "She's an intern," corrected Randy and she shot him a scowl.

    "Same thing," she grumbled.

    "You don't get paid."

    "Randy."

    "I'm Randy," her friend held out his hand to Peter who stared at them incredulously. "Also an intern. It's nice to meet you...?"

    "Peter," he shook Randy's hand awkwardly. "It's▬uh▬it's nice to meet you, too."

    "How do you guys know each other?" Randy then pointed between Peter and Grace.

    "We're lab partners▬"

    "▬He's my lab partner."

    When they answered at the same time, Grace shot Peter a weird look and he flushed. Randy nodded slowly, still very dubious over this chance encounter. A breath of recognition hit him and his eyes widened in realisation. "Oh, so you're the▬" he cut himself off at the scowl Grace sent him, subtly shaking her head. Randy pursed his lips and chose his next words carefully. "I mean, wow, I didn't know you had a lab partner that's ..." he winced and Grace shook her head at him, disappointed. 

    "Yeah..." said Peter slowly, looking like he wanted to be somewhere far from here. He gestured over his shoulder. "Well, I'm▬uh▬I gotta▬I'm gonna go upstairs▬"

    But before he could get away, Grace scrambled to her feet. She didn't even know why she was so eager to keep talking to Peter Parker▬perhaps some part of her was still processing the shock of seeing him here. "Whoa, hey, hey▬hang on, Parker."

    Grace Avery rushed along the carpet, leaving Randy behind, perplexed at her desk to catch up with Peter Parker. "You can't just show up here and then walk away like that without an explanation."

    Peter glanced at her, startled to see her following him, until he heard the works she spoke and his brows knitted together into a disbelieving frown. He didn't understand her▬at all. "What do you▬? I told you, I'm a photographer."

    "No, you're a science major," she told him.

    He was bewildered. "What▬? You think I'm in a lab coat all day every day? I have other interests."

    "Well, the lab coat is a better look than the farmboy flannel," she quipped, surging onwards to lead the way upstairs. Peter faltered and watched her climb the fire stairs, stunned to an incredulous silence by her.

    He scoffed and had no choice but to follow her, leaping up two steps at a time before he caught up with her. "What is your problem?" 

    "I'm just saying," she shrugged, as if she genuinely didn't notice how abrasive her tone and nature actually was. "You're in New York, not Kansas. So," she moved on before Peter could defend his fashion choices. "What photos do you take?"

    Annoyed, Peter quipped sarcastically, "The newspaper kind."

    His comment made her stop and give him a look. She chuckled dryly and sent him a mocking smile. Surprising even himself, Peter sent her one back.

    "I'm genuinely asking," she pressed.

    "And I'm genuinely deflecting."

    They reached the next level and Peter brushed past her, stepping through the open door and heading straight for the photocopier. Grace watched him go, scoffing▬not used to being left standing without a sarcastic comment to throw back. A little impressed smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she watched Peter Parker leave her. Feeling a curious twist in her chest, Grace slowly turned on her heel and started to make her way back downstairs, missing the equally as curious look Peter sent over his shoulder. He caught sight of her just as she disappeared back down the stairwell, and was unable to stop the soft, dubious chuckles that were breathless on his tongue. 

    Until he heard a sharp, loud, "PARKER!"

    Peter jumped and scrambled to gather his bearings, spinning around at the sound of J. Jonah Jameson shouting his name. "Uh▬yeah▬I▬" back to being a flustered, stumbling mess, Peter Parker fixed his shirt and raced towards the door of Jameson's office. "Coming!"

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    a/n: filler, but i wanted to reintroduce nina and also introduce the daily bugle before the main plot starts to like get going. 

    you're probably wondering why nina doesn't like link harry with the green goblin/remember that norman osborn is the green goblin. the way i was thinking when writing this and stuff is that whenever nina knew of the green goblin's identiy of norman, it was in direct/almost in direct association with peter parker, not spider-man. and since she doesn't remember peter parker, she wouldn't know norman. but she remembers the green goblin, and the villain, but not his identity without it. idk whether i've created a plot hole here or not, or whether that makes any sense but yeah.

    idk whether this chapter was good or not, sorry if it isn't. 

    also peter like being sarcastic and stuff to grace isn't ooc of him. he's socially awkward and anxious, yes, but the moment he puts on a mask and can hide behind it, he immediately becomes a sarcastic little annoying shit <3 (she says affectionately). and grace, because of how blunt she is, and confident in the figurative mask she wears every day, she can easily bring out this side of peter because she kinda gives him no choice. she opens up room within their conversations for peter to quip back. and sometimes you just meet someone who brings out sides of you other people can't. idk if that made sense either but oh well. anyway, grace and peter's dynamic and friendship is gonna be super fun to write, i'm excited. 

    (minimal editing).