Living in the Shadows

5) When I'm 64

When I get older, loosing my hair
Many years from now

Will you still be sending me a valentine,
Birthday greetings,
Bottle of wine?

If I'd been out till a quarter to three
Would you lock the door?

Will you still need me, will you still feed me, when I'm 64?

Becca had started to sing the start of their last song. Even though Becca was excited to sing the songs that Liza wrote, they didn't play one tonight. Liza sat in the background as Becca's melodious voice sounded through the cafe. She let her mind drift off. Her fingers knew what to do. They had played this song thousands of times.

She had had another dream last night. Another with the White Raven. Instead of flying through the air, they sat above the ocean, playing with the fish who came to say hello. She still remembered the day they met. She had hated him then. She had always hated supers. She always would.

So why was this one plaguing her mind?

She remembered his outfit. It wasn't latex like what the rest of the supers wore, it was made out of a sturdier material. To her it looked like metal. White metal. Behind him was a cape as gold as the sun itself. It was beautiful. He had a mask, like all supers, the gold color making his midnight hair shimmer in the sun. He had the perfect jawline that matched his perfect nose. From what she saw, he was perfect. But she never saw those eyes. He had a smile to make her swoon, but she never saw his eyes.

That's how she first saw him, eyes covered by the mask it's self. They say eyes are the gates to the soul, and in her dreams he was how she remembered him. Hiding his soul from her.

Soon the song ended and Liza got up to put her guitar away before leaving for the night. She wanted to run out of the building. She didn't want to say a word to anyone who passed her. She wanted to disappear into the shadows like she always did. So she said her goodbyes to Becca and left the building. The September wind hugged her body as she poped open the trunk and carefully slid her guitar case into its place. Once inside the Camaro, she locked the doors and turned on the radio, using the sound only as a background noise.

She sighed and leaned her head onto the skinny steering wheel. Her dream from last night bubbles to her memory once again, and she did not shove it down.

"I shall never leave you Liza. I promise to keep you safe." The stranger's voice sounded so familiar, but it was only her imagination.

"But you never come for me." Even in her dreams she could feel the bruises on her skin, painting her blue and green.

The White Raven repeated what he said as he held her close. And before Liza could wake up he whispered in her ear.

"I am your hero."

Remembering those words made Liza cry in her car. She sat there for minutes, silent tears running down her face. Then she leaned back and sighed again.

"Some hero you turned out to be," she whispered to herself. So she dried her eyes and drove off to her impending doom.
______________________________

He watched as she drove off, her tears finally dried. He had watched her all evening long. When compared to Becca, Liza was just a shadow, but he always saw her. Tonight her curls were pulled into a tight ponytail. She wore black jeans, a loose white tee, and a fitted black leather jacket. She looked like every other person in the cafe that night. But he knew what she was hiding.

He debated on whether he should follow her or not. He found her a year ago and each time he visited her was harder than the last. He never let her know that he was there. What would he say. Sorry I watched you get beaten every night. Sorry I'm not a hero anymore.

Three years ago, before the incident, he would have rushed in and saved her without a second thought. But now, all he wanted was the attention. He wanted the grateful smiles, the swooning girls, the paparazzi. He felt famous. But being a hero for the rewards wasn't being an actual hero. That's why he wanted to find her. Maybe she could make him an real hero.

But Liza was broken more than he was. He had a life, she lived a lie. Years of attention had made him cold hearted, while years of abuse had made her the perfect actress. She needed a hero, but he wasn't one anymore. He wanted to save her desperately, but he would hate her if he had to. And he was torn because what mattered more.

His heart...

Or hers...