A confrontation at the coffee shop...

Outsider. Loner. Outcast.

Pariah...

Those were only some of the words that could have been used to describe you only a few short weeks ago.

You didn't quite fit in with your family. When you were younger, your Dad was a dick who held you to much higher standards than he did your two younger sisters. While he still held you to those standards, he quit going out of his way to be a dick. Your mother, on the other hand, seemed to resent your very existence. Not that this resentment ever showed out in public. She wouldn't dare let the general public think that your familial unit was anything short of perfect. As for your younger sisters... Years of having responsibility for their actions with none of the authority that should have been granted to you to ensure your sisters did what they were supposed to, had left you bitter and resentful towards them.

In school you were introverted and introspective. You hated large crowds yet, paradoxially, didn't mind public speaking or performing in front of said crowds- making activites like Track & Field and Drama Club safe havens that gave you an excuse to be away from your family as much as possible. Of course being the introverted loner that you were, on top of constantly fighting with your parents over various issues, meant you didn't often go out or make close friends and the friends you did have were more akin to work friends. You got along with them easily enough, but you hardly interacted with them outside of a classroom setting.

Despite your social inadequecies, you still managed to snag yourself not one, but two highschool girlfriends that weren't your sister's cousin. The first was a member of the drama club, Olivia, whom you dated for several months. Despite her good girl image, you actually managed to get to second base. Unfortunately, that relationship ended when her family moved away.

Your second girlfriend, Crystal, was a member of the track team. Despite her own good girl reputation, the two of you had lost your virginities to each other in the stairwell of the hotel your team was staying overnight at for a track meet. That was the first of several public places the two of you had hooked up in during your time together. That relationship ended when your metahuman powers had awakened.

With no close friends and an ex-girlfriend who often switched between being terrified and being resentful of your very existence, those last few weeks of school were lonely indeed.

On top of that, you had committed the cardinal sin of establishing that your family, inspite of what your mother wanted to believe, wasn't perfectly normal. The rift between you before the incident could have been described as the Grand Canyon. After the fact, it was more accurate to compare it to the San Andreas fault line. And because she was his wife, regardless of his own personal views, your Dad, just as he always had, automatically sided with your mother through any and all disputes and there were a lot of them.

One yelling match had gotten so intense, that when your Dad interceded on her behalf, the two of you almost came to blows. Of course your telekinesis kicked in and he was blown across the room, destroying the coffee table when he landed. Before anyone else could react, you had slammed your mother against the wall and shot her a glare that promised pain if she kept pushing you. That was the final time you interacted, let alone talked to your mother. Not that it stopped her from gossiping about you to her friends, painting you as an ungrateful monster that shit on everything she had ever done for you.

That night you were on the phone with Jennifer and made plans to go live with her. Your Dad then fronted the money for your trip and expenses once you got here and even drove you to the bus stop. Your already distant relationship was more strained than ever and though he was remorseful, he'd clearly chosen his side and it wasn't yours.

Through it all, was the monumental douche bag named Christopher Grayson.

To say you were his rival is stretching things a bit. The two of you had never directly competed against each other in anything, though when you put forth actual effort in your class work, your scores were never far off from each other. That being said, during the few times the two of you did interact, which was really only in class, he was an asshole. The fact that even at home, you always seemed to be on the outside looking in, whereas he always seemed to be the center of attention, grated on you. And, to top it all off, when you each gained metahuman powers, while you were met with wholesale rejection from anyone and everyone you could possible think of, minus your elder sister and her cousin, he was lauded as the town's hero.

Even now, everything you did, he did better.

Needing to get away from the apartment, you begin wandering aimlessly until you happen upon the coffee shop that Jennifer, Allyson and Kathy (when she visits Jen) like to requent. It's the exact same one that you tried to read the mind of Maxwell Swift, the Justice **** speedster who was temporarily in the city to not only recruit your least favorite person in the world (outside of those related to you by blood), but also investigate whether or not you (going by your nom de plume 'Mastermind') were actually a threat needing to be taken out.

Ordering a Caffe Americano with added amaretto flavoring and sweetened to taste, you sit down and take an unadvisably long pull from the large cup of coffee, slightly scalding your tongue, but you ignore that in favor of reveling in the feeling the highly caffienated beverage instills on you. Another, more careful, sip enforces that feeling inside of you, almost like a **** and has a much more impactful calming affect than breathing exercises or meditation ever had on you.

You introspective moment is broken when a young woman, not much older than you, approaches you. Gesturing towards the seat across from you in the booth you're in, she asks, "Can I sit here?"

She has a dazzling smile, on that really gets your heart pumping. She is the type of girl who almost naturally oozes sex appeal, the type who would more often than not, overlook you for someone either better looking or with a wallet far deeper than yours ever could be. Scanning around the shop, you are slightly suspicious that she wants to sit with you when there are other seating arrangements available, but you're not going to pass up the chance to talk to a woman who is so clearly out of your league.

Especially since she approached you.

"Sure," you tell her, gesturing for her to sit. It strikes you in that moment that you know her. What frustrates you, is that you have no idea how you know her, Even before your mental upgrade brought on by your awakening, you were pretty good at name/face recognition and you can't ever imagine forgetting a face like hers, yet you can't place where you met her before.

"Something on my face?" she asks flirtingly.

"Sorry, no... It's just... Do I know you? You look familiar," you inform her blushingly. Because you looked away, you miss her satisfied smile that she was so easily able to affect you. It shifts back into a more flirty one when you look at her face.

"Interesting pick up line," she comments teasingly.

You merely shrug as you return her smile. "I'm actually being honest. I would almost swear I know you from somewhere..."

"We actually have met before, during a track meet here two years ago," she informs you, letting you off the hook. "We met through my ex-boyfriend..."

The suspicious feeling comes back in full ****. "Christopher."

Her expression shifts into one of shock, though whether it was because you managed to guess what she was going to say or because of the distaste with which you uttered his name, you aren't sure. With a frown of moderate disgust on your face, you begin to stand up only to find yourself frozen in place. You feel as if you weigh a lot more than you're used to.

'I've been set-up!' you think as panic almost strats to settle in. However, your flight response is quickly hijacked by your fight response and anger and rage fills your entire being. The mysterious woman in front of you, looks extremely uncomfortable as you struggle to stand up. You suffuse your body with psychic energy and actually begin to stand, much to your female companion's awe. Christopher is putting so much pressure on you that it's taking all you have to prevent yourself from being crushed. Still, you stubbornly refuse to give up and actually manage to stand up.

"Please hear us out!" the woman practically begs.

"Let. Me. Go." You demand. It takes a great deal of strength to even say that much. Standing still is all you can manage at this point. Christopher's powers are far too strong for you to outpower, though you are at least matching him.

"I can't..." Christopher says with obvious strain in his voice. He was sitting in the booth behind you, his back to yours. You take sadistic glee that it's taking everything he has to hold you in place.

"Now," you say.

"If I... Do that... You'll cause an-another... Explosion..." he grits out.

"I... Didn't c-cause that a-anymore than I... Started this..." you argue.

"Please, both of you," the woman says pleadingly.

"Fine..." you both say. As you pull back on your power, you gradually feel much lighter than you did just moments before. Christopher slumps forward in his chair slightly as you sit back down, exhausted.

"Thank-" the woman starts to say before she gasps. Terror fills her eyes, though she tries to remain as expressionless as possible as you glare at her. You make it obvious that you've invaded her mind and are ready and willing to do some serious damage to her if she and her fromer paramour are not careful.

Naturally, this catches Christopher's attention. "What are-"

"Insurance," you answer, interupting him. "In case you try something like that again. You might take me down, but she'll live the rest of her life as a vegetable."

"Fuck," Christopher curses. He already knows that whatever him and her had planned as officially gone to shit. He gets up, drink in hand, and slides into the bench seat next to his ex-girlfriend.

"What do you want, Christopher?" you demand.

"To talk, just talk," he tells you. "Can you please stop whatever it is you're doing to her."

"Can you not be a douche?" you shoot back.

"James..." he begins to say before he's interupted once more.

"I didn't start this, you did, Singularity," you state calling him by his metahuman name.

"Look, I'm sorry, but we wanted you to hear us out, Mastermind," he tells you, involking your own metahuman name.

"What do you want?" you ask as you withdraw from the mind of the woman whose name you still don't know. She lets out a breath of relief, though she is trembling and a lot more wary of you than she was before.