The Interview

Chapter 3

"Rough night?"

Melody blinked up bleary-eyed and foggy-headed, right into the smiling face of Steve Rogers. She was mortified. Now on top of the killer hangover, she was nursing, she also had the supreme embarrassment of Captain America seeing her like this. It was completely unprofessional given that she was on your way to interview him right now.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry," she groaned. "You weren't supposed to see me like this."

Steve chuckled and shook his head. "Don't worry about it. We've all been there. And I'm friends with Tony Stark. I'm not thrown off by someone struggling after a night on the town."

"I know but - oh god - it's so unprofessional. It wasn't planned. My cousin wanted to take me out to congratulate me for the interview and then she served me absinthe..."

Steve immediately started laughing. "Well, that was your first mistake."

"You've had absinthe?" she asked, a little surprised.

"Well - no. I mean - yes. Okay, it's complicated," he said.

"We have a train ride to Brooklyn to talk," she said. "It doesn't have to be on the record."

"No, it can be," he said. "I've tried it. I know the whole process. But I was a super soldier by then, which means I metabolize things fast so I didn't experience the effects, but I did get to witness how it affected the soldiers I was drinking with."

"Was that during the war?" she asked.

"Yeah, we were in France, having some time off. It was - well - soldiers, you know?" Steve said.

The thought of the war and soldiers drinking hallucinogenic cocktails made another thing pop into her head. "Hey, when you were a kid did they still have cocaine in Coke?"

"Trace amounts from memory. Not enough that you could feel it. I'd have to look that up though. But if you're asking because you're wondering if Captain America has consumed cocaine, yeah - I have. They used it as pain relief. Heroin too. And those asthma cigarettes you talked about last time often had cannabis in them. Things were different back then, but we've spoken about that."

She shook her head. "And how..." she laughed.

"I am just a guy. I'm not perfect. I try to do the right thing, but I can't pretend I always know what that is. I have a moral compass, and sometimes when I learn more information that compass changes. I've always believed consenting adults should be able to love each other freely and without interference. I have always believed that people should have a minimum standard of living that's met even if they're unable to work. That means homes, food, electricity, running water, and medical care. I have always believed that people should be free to worship whatever god they choose - or not - as long as that worship doesn't interfere with others or harm them. But the nuances of those things - they're not always clear. Things aren't black and white. And I'm not an altar boy. I drink. I go to parties with my friends. I even swear."

"And you talk about circumcision with strangers," she said.

He started laughing and his cheeks flushed pink. "That too."

"Does it bother you that people see you as some kind of perfect angel?" she asked.

Steve paused to think about the question. "No. Generally, I don't mind how people see me. They can love me or hate me. They can think I'm secretly a complete deviant. What bothers me is when they do that and corrupt the message. I don't like when they think I'd be against immigrants because I wear a flag. Or worse, they think that because they believe I wouldn't do something, it means I would stop other people from doing it. Does that make sense?"