I died pretty young in my last life, only sixteen years old, but that still gave me plenty of time to read about Spider woman, and watch superhero shows like Young Justice. Spider woman, or Spider Gwen, was always my favorite superhero. As a fellow...
P.S. I do not own Young Justice, Spider Woman, or any music or art in this chapter. Enjoy!
Gwen's POV
Being on a team is tiring, I decide.
I wouldn't say I'm antisocial, but being around a group of mostly hyperactive teenagers is kind of exhausting. I need my daily dose of me time.
So, I'm doing one of my favorite things.
Playing the drums.
(This is the song Gwen is playing. If you have time, check out this drummer, she is amazing!)
Since I joined the team, I moved one of my drum sets into the cave, in a room that's out of the way and no one else was using. Most of the group is out in the main entrance room, playing air hockey, so I took this moment to get some practice in.
The room is relatively soundproof, so I can go all out.
I take full advantage of this fact;)
I thank whatever deity that sent me here that my favorite songs from my last life still exist. Like Metallica, Three Days Grace; you know, the good stuff.
Apparently, I get too into my drumming, because I don't notice Superboy is in the room until he applauds at the end of my song.
Makes me glad I had the foresight to wear my costume, just in case.
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"Superboy," I acknowledge, some surprise leaking into my voice. "I thought you were going to Metropolis."
At that, his face contorts into an angry frown. Unknown to him, I mirror his expression from behind my mask. "What happened?" I question, pulling another bench forward for him to sit down.
He sighs aggressively, plopping down next to me and folding his hands. "Superman."
He doesn't need to say anymore; I immediately understand.
"Ah," I nod. "He being a little bitch again?"
The clone's head shoots up incredulously at my callous language referring to the Man of Steel, but nods dazedly.
"Don't take whatever he does to heart," I reassure him. "He may be a lauded hero, but everyone has their faults. His just happens to be that he's a sissy that can't take responsibility and wears his underwear on the outside."
Superboy snorts, then starts to laugh a little, looking surprised himself.
When he looks back toward me a moment later, he's smiling. "Yeah, he is. Thanks."
