bapa: from here to eternity

chapter 6: friends or not

Bose POV:

I'm laying on the couch in my penthouse, my body aching from the fight with the supervillain. Chapa is sitting beside me, her expression a mix of concern and curiosity.

"Why did you transform into Brainstorm again after all these years?" she asked, breaking the silence.

I sighed, trying to find the right words. "I saw danger and had to help. This situation looked more unusual than before. Miles and Mika might need our help soon."

She looked away, her face shadowed with unresolved emotions. "I don't want to anymore."

I frowned, puzzled by her sudden distance. "Why? You quit so suddenly and never talk about it or interact with any of us anymore. What happened?"

"It's complicated," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

My mind wandered back to our last battle together. I realized how much I missed those times. "Do you miss it?" I asked softly.

She hesitated, then nodded slightly. "Sort of," she admitted, but offered no more.

The clock read 8 pm when a sudden knock on the door interrupted our conversation. Chapa stood up to answer it and found Bridget on the other side, her face etched with worry.

Bridget rushed in, her voice trembling. "Bose, are you okay?"

I thought she was overreacting and reassured her, "I'm fine, Bridget. Don't worry."

Chapa, noticing Bridget's proximity to me, seemed to tense up, a flicker of jealousy crossing her face.

Bridget, finally noticing Chapa, turned to me. "Why is she here?" Then recognition dawned on her. "Isn't she the girl who ran into you a couple of days ago?"

I explained, "She's an old friend."

Bridget still looked displeased, but she shifted her focus. "How did you get hurt?"

"I fell down the stairs," I lied.

Bridget's eyes widened with suspicion. "Did she push you?"

Chapa, no longer silent or rolling her eyes, stepped in. "Of course not. Do you think I'd be here helping him if I had?"

Bridget recoiled, intimidated by Chapa's fierce comeback. I couldn't help but smile.

Trying to regain her composure, Bridget said, "You have a very important speech tomorrow. You didn't have time to write it today because of what happened."

I nodded, remembering. "I can do it."

Bridget pressed, "You really have to, unless we want to make it public that you're injured."

"I'll manage," I assured her.

Satisfied but still worried, Bridget glanced at Chapa one last time before leaving. I leaned back on the couch, grateful for the quiet and Chapa's presence.

"Why don't you like her?" I asked Chapa after a few moments.

Chapa shrugged. "She doesn't like me. And shows it off pretty well, she only cares about your well-being and I get annoyed by her behavior, are these enough reasons?"

I nodded, understanding her frustration. "She's just worried about me. But you're right, she doesn't like you that much."

Chapa gazed out of the window, the city lights reflecting in her eyes. "You know, you live pretty cool here," she remarked, her voice thoughtful.

I shrugged, trying to play it off casually. "I'd rather live in a house with a garden, somewhere quiet and peaceful. But a penthouse is safer considering my popularity." I paused, then added, "But I guess I can't complain after seeing where you live."