Abandoned or not, Simeon knew the bowling alley was still private property. Using it to take out one’s pent-up frustrations by drifting and doing donuts in its empty parking lot was not going to get on well with any law enforcement that might get called, but he wasn’t much in a mood to care about little things like that.

As he whipped and weaved his expensive sports car across its pavement, all he could think about was that punk. The one who took everything from him – his birthright, his pride, and even his life. Then suddenly Simeon noticed a figure out of the corner of his rearview mirror while his car spun, and came to a perfect stop right before hitting them. Standing barely a full inch from the car’s front bumper was a man who came seemingly out of nowhere. He was tall with a dark, handsome complexion. He also wore a pair of sunglasses despite it being the dead of night. The most striking thing of all was the playful smile he gave Simeon. The driver only gave him a scowl in return.

He killed his engine and stepped out from behind the wheel.

“What do you want, Xander?”

Alexander rapped his knuckles on the car’s emblem.

“Does the manufacturer who lent you this car know you’re wearing it out to all hell like this, Si?”

“A little drifting won’t ruin it. And if it does, it shouldn’t have been put on the road, to begin with.”

Feeling only mildly less agitated after all that whipping through the parking lot, Simeon decided to light up a smoke. The light briefly illuminated his blonde hair and piercing blue eyes that always seemed stuck in some manner of glare or glower.

“I take it from your mood that you’ve already heard who’s back in town?”

“Obviously. Even if it hadn’t been sent to me, I would have seen it on the news.”

“Oh, yeah. It did get picked up by the news, didn’t it? I guess it is a pretty big story. A national tragedy with hundreds of fatalities, and one of them suddenly pops back up seemingly from the dead. Even news stations away from the West Coast talked about it for a while. I heard about it while filming a commercial in Philly.”

“Philly? You came all the way from the East Coast just to bug me?”

“No, I came to help you out.”

“Do I look like I need your help?”

Xander snorted. “Nah, not at all. Drifting the wheels off a luxury car in an empty parking lot while grinding your teeth to dust is perfectly stable behavior.”

“…I was blowing off steam.”

“You were revving yourself up, Simeon. Out of all of the Slayers, you are the one who can control his temper the least. Another hour of this and you would have gunned it straight north for Seattle. For your own well-being, I can’t let go through with that.”

“My well-being? You think I need protection?”

Suddenly, a Quintessence that caused the windows of Simeon’s car to quiver, pebbles on the pavement to tremble, parking lot lights to flicker, and birds and stray cats and dogs all throughout the block to jolt began to permeate all throughout the area.

“The Prince of the Crimson Vale doesn’t need protection from anyone; not from Morgan Moon or from another Hero Slayer…”

Alexander sighed, completely unfazed by the intense Quintessence bleeding from the man beside him.

“See, this is what I’m talking about. You always get ahead of yourself. Every Validaran in the world, or at least in North America, now knows that the Chosen One is back on Earth. We’re probably going to get a lot of them trying to bum-rush him before the Gauntlet begins. The last thing we need is a Slayer adding to the nonsense. Think about it, Si – go after the Hero of Eight Realms, you’ll have the other Slayers coming after you for breaking code. This temper of yours is the main thing that got you killed in the first pl--”

The Quintessence caused one of the lenses in Alexander’s sunglasses to crack. The actor calmly removed his shattered glasses and then gave Simeon a smile that was not quite as friendly as the one from before.

“I genuinely didn’t come here to pick a fight, brother. But… I might have to just knock some sense into you. For your own good, of course.”

The tension continued to swell until the sound of a car approaching the bowling alley broke it down. A police cruiser pulled into the parking lot, stopping a few yards from where Simeon and Xander stood. Simeon clicked his tongue and extinguished his aura, much to his fellow Hero Slayer’s amusement. They watched in silence as the police officer shut off her sirens, left her vehicle, and started toward the pair.

“Hey, you two. I got a noise complaint about some wild driver going crazy at some old bowling alley. I’m guessing it was you guys?”

Alexander gave Simeon a look, but the driver refused to meet his gaze. The actor then shot the policewoman a disarming smile as she approached.

"Ms. Officer, you really go to work looking like 'that' just to do early morning patrols?"

The cop rolled her eyes at the compliment. There was nothing a female cop hated more than a wannabe-Don Juan who thought he could smooth talk his way out of trouble. That was, at least, her initial reaction until she got close enough to see who the Don Juan in question was.

“…Y-you’re Alexander Kanahele!”

“Ah. Can’t believe you recognized me in the dark,” Alexander said playfully. “I’m not even that famous.”

“I just watched Miami Twice with my sister the other night! You were so great in the movie! Is it true you spent months with the Miami Police Department to prepare for that role?”

Almost instantly, the tough cop exterior melted and was replaced by an enthusiastic fangirl. Dimitry stood on the sidelines in silence, lighting up another cigarette while they chattered. Whether it was the light from the lighter or the smell of cigarette smoke, something brought the cop back to her senses, and remembered why she had confronted the pair in the first place.

“L-look, don’t try to talk your way out of this!” she snapped, quickly changing the subject. “Celebrity or not, you can’t go around doing whatever you—“

She cut herself off again when she turned to face Simeon. Just like with Alexander, her jaw dropped.

“Y-you… You’re Simeon Blumenthal! The Formula 1 World Champion!”

If she was blushing while talking to Alexander, she was positively shaking now while addressing Dimitry.

“I’ve been a Nascar and Formula 1 fan forever! I saw you in the last Grand Prix when you beat second place by a full lap! You’re a dark horse who came out of nowhere and started beating everyone! You’re amazing!”

“If I was amazing I would have out lapped everyone else by three laps instead of just one. With competition like what I had, there’s no excuse for me to only be one lap ahead.”

Alexander shook his head. Simeon just couldn’t take a compliment to save his life. Still, the cop seemed to not be put off by his attitude. She was now double star struck, her gaze whipping feverously to and fro between the two.

“Uh… Look I technically didn’t catch you guys committing any crime, so…” The officer darted her eyes before holding out a notepad and a pen. “Maybe a pair of autographs and a promise to behave and we can just leave it at a warning?”

The Validarans exchanged looks. After a bit of scribbling from both of them, the policewoman, bubbling with glee bid the celebrities adieu.

“Next time leave the city and head out to the countryside to drift. People in rural areas usually don’t call over stuff like this.”

“Should a cop really be giving that type of advice?” Alexander wondered aloud as the officer took off.

Simeon sighed before casting away his cigarette and stomping it out.

“Oh? You’re heading out?” the actor asked him.

“I’ve got a flight back to Miami I have to catch tomorrow. I can’t waste the rest of the night with you.”

“As long as you aren’t heading to Washington.”

“You really think I was going to drive for 16 hours straight to Seattle from LA just to fight Moon a little early?”

Alexander gave Simeon a look that said everything the champion needed to hear to scowl one last time. Annoyed, he got in his car and drove out into the night. Alexander watched him go until his vehicle vanished from view and then went on his own way. He examined his shattered sunglasses as he walked.

He sighed. “These were designer too…”

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

What always struck Phoebe’s backup dancers the most was how she never seemed to have any limits. It didn't matter how long a rehearsal lasted; it didn't matter that she danced for hours almost every day of her life, and not just dancing but, when it came time to perform, singing in perfect pitch and rhythm without the use of any artificial production value added to her voice. And she did all this despite never having any formal training or practice; at least none that any of her agents, partners, or friends knew of. Phoebe Nightingale was what every label dreamed of, what every aspiring pop singer and dancer who had been in the business far longer than she strived to be: the perfect pop star.

When rehearsal finally ended, only one person was sweating up a lake, and it was Phoebe. While everyone started for their towels and water bottles, Phoebe was still looking fresh and ready for another set or two. Maybe even three if she had the time. But, she had always been empathetic enough to recognize that others couldn't hope to keep up with her pace. Despite not showing any signs of perspiration, she headed to the showers and the changing room.

"Alright guys, that wraps it up. You were all awesome today," she told them. "Next rehearsal is at the same time tomorrow."

Always affable with those she worked with, whether they were fellow stars; backup performers; or the staff whose job it was to fetch everyone coffee, Phoebe personally bid everyone goodnight before heading out herself. Her driver was already waiting for her and took her to her hotel in upper Manhattan. The ride there, the elevator ride to her floor, the changing into her pajamas - she did it all in silence. Usually, Phoebe was given to singing quietly to herself while not focusing on something. Often time, the song she sang was not one of her own as she grew bored of her own music shortly after releasing it. There were no hums or hymns that evening. The pop star's mind was too preoccupied for that.

She sprawled on her bed with her laptop and started playing the video she had already watched several dozen times the day before, and another dozen right before heading to dance rehearsal earlier this afternoon. It was of a boisterous independent journalist conducting one of the most fascinating interviews not shown on television. Her interviewee was a young man who had reportedly returned from the dead. He was tall and surprisingly cute for someone who had barely survived a plane crash into the sea. The comment section, which was usually busy for every Angie Z upload, was especially robust for this extremely viral video. Among the majority of the comments talking about how remarkable this was, the others praising Angie for her journalism or video production skills, and the few conspiracy theorists claiming that there was a deeper and darker story that Angie wasn't covering; there were plenty of comments with female avatars expressing how 'attractive' the plane crash survivor was.

He kinda cute for someone who survived a crash tho.

He said he was homeless but if you look closer at his arms and chest he's actually super frickin' fit! How'd he get a physique like that while living on the streets for a decade?

Bet that social worker probably wasn't even a social worker. She probably just thought he was hot and wanted an excuse to talk to him lmao!

After having watched it so many times, these types of comments now captured Phoebe's attention more than the video itself. They annoyed her. She hated that they annoyed her. It meant there was more emotional investment still lingering there she thought. After over a decade, she thought she was over everything concerning Morgan, but that was apparently not the case. Was it jealousy that Morgan was getting female attention? Or was it a more general feeling of resentment that the boy who had kept her from achieving her dream in Validar was alive and well and receiving accolades again?

"Morgan always was an attention sponge - getting pats on the back just existing.”

Phoebe clicked her tongue while shutting her laptop for the umpteenth time that day. No doubt she would open it up again in another hour or so. She would likely be up all night ruminating on the Hero of Eight Realms' return to his home world. Phoebe had been foretold of his return to Earth for years just like the others, but she had always had in the back of her mind this idea that he would just stay in Validar forever. What a blessing that would be, if Morgan Moon could just stay a whole world away from Phoebe.

"But... I guess if that was the case, I wouldn't get the chance to kill him myself."

She lay in silence for a moment before allowing a smile to spread across her face. With her resolution having been made and her mind having been cleared, Phoebe began to sing to herself. It was ironic. None of the other Hero Slayers were closer to Morgan than she, but none of them were so thoroughly solaced by the opportunity of taking his life. All the other Hero Slayers, regardless of their motives all felt the same way as she did. The opportunity they had all been waiting for had finally arrived.