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“Awesome,” Nash said. “I’m so happy that you like every one of my ideas and don’t think any of them are dumb or a waste of time. I’ll oversee your social media, and maybe the very people witnessing our love story blossom right before their eyes would like to take part in the merch store. There might even be a sign-up sheet available right now at Pyro Storm’s official website, which will be linked below.”
“You think of everything,” Pyro Storm said. “So what if we’re in the middle of solving a string of murders that have shaken Nova City to its core, or that we were about to have sexual relations for the first time? This is just as important. Thank you for bringing this up, and I hope everyone goes to the official website you created. Now, where were we? Because I have a mighty need to put myself inside yourself.”
Nash’s phone fell to the rooftop as Pyro Storm descended upon him. He brought his mouth close to Nash’s ear, and whispered, “What’s the name of the website where people can sign up?”
www.OfficialPyroStorm.novacity
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Comments:
ImSoExtra(ordinaries) 09:19Um. What.
PyroStormSuxx 10:14WTF IS THIS? I HATE PYRO STORM BUT I CAME HERE FOR THE BUTT SEX. WHY DID YOU TURN THIS INTO A COMMERCIAL?
LetPyroStormSmash 11:02I’ve signed up, thank you for the opportunity! Question: how explicit can we make the art? Because I have this idea, but it’s going to show a lot of nudity, and possibly some tentacles. Please let me know!
ExtraordinaryGurl 11:16This didn’t go where I thought this was going. That’s not cool. You must really be into edging.
ShadowStarIsBae 12:26Okay, but this must be against the terms of service for the fic hosting site. You can’t just turn your story into an advertisement. This is supposed to be fiction, not an infomercial. Can you please just get to the sex and the solving of the serial murders? In that order?
FireStoned 12:36I SIGNED UP AT YOUR STUPID WEBSITE AND I’M ONLY GOING TO SEND REBECCA FIRESTONE FANART. I DON’T CARE WHAT YOU THINK BECAUSE REBECCA FIRESTONE DESERVES TO HAVE EVERYTHING GOOD IN THE WORLD. SHE IS THE BEST THING THAT’S EVER HAPPENED TO ANYONE AND THE FACT THAT YOU MAKE HER THE VILLAIN WHILE MAKING EVERYONE GAY IS UNREALISTIC.
SoundOfJazz 13:12Wow, Nicky! This is certainly a way to go about it. Not what I would have picked or even considered, but I admire your follow through! Gibby said some stuff too, but I’m just going to leave this positive. Let me know how I can help!
ReturnOfTheGray 14:31: This is why you didn’t want me to beta read? When did you have time to make a website? And where did you get that picture of Pyro Storm to use as the header on the website????
When Nick had returned to Centennial High (Home of the Fighting Wombats!) last fall, his arm in a sling after he’d dislocated it saving Rebecca Firestone from certain death, he’d been something of a hero. Everyone had seen the footage from theAction Newshelicopter of him standing on McManus Bridge, the lights from dozens of police cars flashing, Shadow Star defeated and unconscious on the ground, the air filled with smoke.
But it was the kiss that had gotten everyone talking.
Pyro Storm—weathered and beaten, but not broken—kissing one Nicholas Bell for all the world to see before he rocketed into the sky in a bright flash of fire. There’d been others on the bridge then, too, people with their cell phones out, recording shaky videos from different perspectives. Someone had put them all together in a five-minute-long, multiangle video and posted it online. The last time Nick had checked, the YouTube video alone had racked up nearly four million views.
Nick had left the school a nobody, a queer kid who was loud and annoying and tended to give presentations on the mating habits of box turtles when he was supposed to be discussing Byronic heroes in English class.
He’d returned a celebrity.
Students who hadn’t given him the time of day came up to talk to him: jocks (“So cool, bro, obviously no homo”); cheerleaders (“Like, I could not evenbelieveyou liked boys, but that is sohot”); the academics (“How exactly do Pyro Storm’s powers work, and why did you not get burned when you engaged in mouth osculation?”); the stoners (“Whoaaaaaaa, dude, gnarly stuff—do you think Pyro Storm would come to my house and smoke us out?”); the theater kids (“So we don’t have to doBrigadoonfor the tenth time, we’re putting on an original musical about you and PyroStorm”); the band geeks (“We’re gonna do a concert in your honor for all that you—Nick, the trombone is not a toy for you to play with, put itdown”); and the rich kids (“You poor waif, you can barely even tell your arm sling isn’t Louis Vuitton”).
Nick had basked in the attention, signing autographs for everyone who’d asked (six people). In the week he’d missed while recovering, his infamy had grown to near-mythical levels, especially when Rebecca Firestone had unmasked him asShadowStar744, the most popular fanfic writer in the Extraordinaries fandom. She’d called his masturbatory ode to Shadow Star a manifesto and publicly questioned whether Nick had been working with Shadow Star, her own history with the villainous Extraordinary be damned. But it’d backfired on her, only adding to Nick’s mystique. By the time he returned to school, rumors were flung about without evidence to back them up, especially when the truth came out that their fellow classmate and Nick’s ex-boyfriend, Owen Burke, was Shadow Star.
Nick’s favorite rumors included:
Nick was an Extraordinary himself—either a hero or a villain, or possibly both … or … neither;
Nick and Owen were murder-husbands and had killed thirty-six people;
Nick was a sociopathic black widow/femme fatale (howthatworked, he didn’t know) who’d seduced Owen and Pyro Storm and pitted them against each other in a fight to prove their loyalty; and
Nick, Owen, and Pyro Storm were in a polyamorous relationship that had gone sour when Nick and Pyro Storm wanted to break up with Owen.
Sure, Nick had failed to become an Extraordinary himself, but this was the next best thing. Nick let the attention wash over him with no small amount of glee, knowing changes such as this, while rare, lasted a lifetime. He wouldn’t be going back to the life he’d once lived. This was forever.
It lasted four days, six hours, and seven minutes.
Nick had relished the attention, retelling the Battle of McManusBridge over and over and barely embellishing any of the details, but it soon grew tiresome when he declined to answer the biggest question on everyone’s mind:
Who was Pyro Storm really?
