"describe it to me... describe me your beauty"
Kate Summers is a student at Columbia Law School the same year a young Matt Murdock attends his first classes. Meeting him was definitely something revolutionary for Kate, as she has never met someone...
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GUNSHOT. Bullet. Death.
Kate opened her eyes quickly as her alarm started ringing. Six thirty in the morning. She turned it off as she stood up from her bed, grabbing her gym clothes and putting them on.
She walked out of her dorm with her headphones on, stretching her arms and legs as she walked out of the hallway, getting ready for her morning run.
You don't want that life, Kate. Her father had said once, and his voice rang in her head as she began running through the campus, the sunrise in the middle of its glory. You aren't like me. You have to be better.
She remembered everything like if it was yesterday.
The training center was cold that morning. After a dosis of Karate and Kung Fu, boxing was the last thing she wanted to go through.
But her father was there. Rarely that happens, but he was there. Surrounded by security guards and people of his own little mafia... but he was there.
"Show me what you got, Katie," his trainer said as they got in the ring. "Show me what we've learned."
He wanted to impress her father, while she didn't care at all.
He beat him after three hits, knocking him on the floor with a hit on the nose.
"Impressive," she heard her father say as she got out of the ring, taking off her box gloves. "Strong... and smart."
He took out of his side pocket an envelope, and when she saw the Columbia logo on it, she couldn't help it but gasp. The envelope was opened. He has opened it.
"You got offered a full scholarship to study law at Columbia."
"That's mine," Kate said as she stepped forward, being stopped by her father's employers. "You had no right."
"Law, Kate? You don't want that life. College. You honestly believe you are normal? You have a talent. You aren't like me... you are better."
"I don't want to be your weapon."
Kate stopped running when she heard a branch breaking. She raised an eyebrow before sliding her leg in a clock movement, knocking down by the feet the person behind her, who fell on his back.
She quickly put herself on top of him, her fist up ready to hit this stranger on the face. He had long hair up to his shoulders, was sweaty, had a growing beard that show slack more than style, and was wearing nothing similar to exercise clothes.
"You following me?" She asked him. She could feel her fist trembling. It's been a while that she's been in a position of fight. "Who are you?"
"Foggy. I'm Foggy Nelson. I wasn't following you. I'm late... for work... I was just running. I... I work at the coffee cart."
