bapa: from here to eternity

chapter 1: the sudden and rather quick reunion

Chapa POV:

I'm running late. Sage better be grateful for my help with her art project for school. If I didn't help her out I wouldn't be late right now. It's my first time at this art academy and they're very strict when it comes down to being on time. If I only had my drivers license and a car, I might could've made it on time. Once I do my best and make a couple works of fancy art, I can sell it through this academy and earn some money. I need money to pay for my tiny, almost useless apartment and for my family. My dad got retired, Sage just got into high school and I got into the art academy, which cost my parents a fortune. If I don't make money soon, we'll end up on the streets.

I arrive at the academy. This massive building has different academies. And of course mine had to be on the top floor. I slam the door open and all eyes are targeted on me. I couldn't care less and run fast towards the elevator.

"Hey!" A lady yells from behind. I turn my head while running to perceive why she's calling out on me. I keep running until my forehead slams into someone's chest. I embarrassingly fall to the dirty, cold floor. I'm getting fed up with anger and annoyance. When I get to my feet to call out the person who couldn't step aside, I see him.

Bose.

"Oh no, are you okay?" The worried woman who distracted me earlier asked and furrowed her eyebrows. I was ready to respond when I saw her walking up to Bose, who kept looking at me.

"Oh my God, are you okay Mr. O'Brien?" she strokes his chest with her shaking hands. So she doesn't even mind my well-being?

"Chapa?" Bose uttered.

"I don't have time for this." I say coldly and uninterested. I pick up my bag from the ground and stumble towards the elevator. I catch a glimpse of Bose when the elevator doors close.

I shake my head to wake myself up and to forget everything that had just happened.

Bose POV:

"What the heck was that?" Bridget grumbled. She sounds bothered, but I'm still busy processing what just happened. Why is Chapa in Rivalton? And why in this building? Bridget keeps complaining about the situation. 

"I think she was running late and had to make haste." I finally respond, not letting her know I had known that girl for years.

"Yes, and? She could've been more careful." Bridget muttered with her annoying high-pitched voice. Voices like hers really trigger me. I ask her to stop talking about the situation and she eventually does.
I'm still wondering what Chapa was doing in here and why she ran away like that. Maybe I'll be able to figure out what floor she went to, so I can take a look and talk to her.

10 months ago I moved to Rivalton to keep my distance from my awful stepfather. I could no longer live with my stepdad's harsh words and his heavy expectations that weighed me down. My mom did tell him to provide for me while I'm here in Rivalton. He would only agree if I managed it here, did some interviews, modeling and advertisements, which eventually could lead to people moving to Swellview. That's why I'm here in this building to do what he's asked me to. And it's a lot of work. And honestly... I hate it, but if this means I can be away from my stepfather, then I'm okay with it.

I'm now twenty-four years old so Chapa must be twenty-two. The glamour and attention I'm receiving is not much different from the chaotic, highlighted days of Danger Force. Those times still lingered in my mind. Sometimes I miss the thrill of using my powers and missions we used to go on. Miles, ever the steadfast hero, was now training the next generation of superheroes. I admired his dedication; he was born for this. Sometimes, his students even joined him on his missions, still right in the middle of the action. Mika had taken a different path, vanishing into the shadows of a secret agency, solving crimes with her sharp mind. Occasionally, I'd hear about her helping Miles, always anonymously, always staying one step ahead. Chapa, on the other hand, had poured her energy into her art and caring for her little sister. She had always had a soft spot for Sage. Not much more than that have I heard of her, unlike the things I've heard from Miles and Mika.

We've been catching up quite some times. Chapa was always invited but she never showed. It was a shame, really. I hadn't seen her in years since we all quit. Despite the years apart, I often found myself thinking about her, wondering how she was doing. Our reunion, unexpected and sudden, reminded me just how much I had missed her.

All these years I couldn't help but think of my old friends. We had grown apart, our lives branching out in different directions, but the bond we shared during those formative years as Danger Force still held strong in my heart.

Chapa POV:

My heart pounded as I sprinted to the right room. Bursting through the door, I was met with the stern gaze of a moody, middle-aged teacher. Ms. Ambrose. She's known for being very critical.

"Uhm hello, I'm Chapa... Chapa De Silva!" I shouted out of breath.
Ms. Ambrose snapped, her voice cutting through the air like a knife. "Do you think you can just stroll in whenever you please?"

"I ran into someone and fell," I began, trying to explain.

"I don't want to hear your lame excuses," she interrupted sharply. "This isn't the first time someone has used that excuse. Your attitude is unacceptable."

I felt my temper rising. "But I—"

"No buts," she cut me off again, her tone growing harsher. "If you can't show up on time, you shouldn't be here at all."

That was it. My patience snapped. "I apologized for being late, yet you still had to point it out like it would change anything," I retorted, my voice rising.

"Leave this instant," she ordered, pointing towards the door.

"But Ms. Ambrose, I need this, I need this so I can help out my family!" I shouted. Ms. Ambrose ignored what I had to say.

"Not another word unless it's an apology for your behavior."

Furious, I stormed out of the classroom. Anger burned in my chest. I needed this opportunity, but I couldn't stand being treated like this. As I stood in the hallway, fuming, a girl approached me. She looked to be around my age, with kind eyes and a gentle smile.

"Hey," she said softly. "Don't take it too personally. Ms. Ambrose is tough on everyone."

I took a deep breath, trying to calm down. "It's just... I can't handle it when people talk to me like that."

"I get it," she nodded. "But you need this, right? To support your family, you said?"

"Yeah," I admitted, feeling the weight of my responsibilities pressing down on me.

"Look," she continued, "if you apologize, even if it's just to get back in there, you can start creating and maybe even sell some of your work. It's worth it, isn't it?"

I hesitated. My pride was bruised, but she had a point. "I guess."

"Your name is Chapa, right?" she asked.

"Yes," I replied, my voice softening.

"I'm Elena, but you can call me El," she introduced herself. "And trust me, it's better to be in there making art than out here fuming."

Taking a deep breath, I nodded. "Okay, I'll try."

With Elena by my side, I walked back into the classroom. Ms. Ambrose eyed me with suspicion.

"I'm sorry for being late," I said, my voice steady. "And I'm sorry for my outburst. But I was frustrated because I really need this opportunity."

Ms. Ambrose's expression softened, just a fraction. "Fine. Take your seat. But don't let it happen again."

I nodded, heading to my easel, feeling a mix of relief and lingering anger. Elena gave me a supportive smile as I settled in. I picked up my brush, letting the familiar act of painting soothe my nerves. This was just the beginning, and I was determined to make it work, no matter what.