The Shadow [a marvel fanfiction]

Before: Chapter One

Looking back, the weather was to blame for everything.

Marie knew it was going to be a bad day as soon as she woke up, half-past seven, with the sun glaring down at her, clothes sticking to her body, and the dumpster down the alley radiating a stench unknown to humans. Damn that late-August heatwave and its unbearable humidity.

The humidity ruined the only good day of the week: Friday, the day where people were exhausted from a week of work and school and wanted to go out. Club music thumped, bars were crowded, and everyone carried cash; it was easier to pay the taxi driver, and easier for Marie to steal.

She leaned against the old red bricks of a bakery and scanned the crowds. Sweat beaded at her temples and her short curls stuck to the nape of her neck. The glaring sun made her head pound and her brain foggy and put Marie in a bad mood. She wanted retribution for her ruined day, so she turned to Wall Street.

A smirk curled at her lips as her eyes raked across the men approaching her: self-important businessmen boasting about their wild weekend plans and flashing expensive-looking watches. Easy prey.

Marie moved behind a group of foreign students following a bright orange flag. French, she guessed by the chatter. She feigned a dazed expression as she stumbled into one of the men and slipped a hand into his pocket.

"Oh! Par-Pardon. Sorry, I-I-I am sorry," she gasped, using her stutter and "exotic" mixed skin to her advantage.

The man traced her figure and followed a bead of sweat that rolled down her neck and disappeared under her shirt. "That's all right. No harm done."

Marie demurely looked down, her dark hair hiding her face as she backed away. Too easy.

Wallet in her pocket and a bounce in her step, Marie disappeared effortlessly into the crowds. She strolled through the streets, trading the dense city center for a quiet neighborhood. Passing an elite private school, she stood out in her ratty jeans and stained blue hoodie.

Her eyes followed a girl with a sparkly pink unicorn backpack. She took in the girl's uniform and shiny black shoes. Would she have worn the plaid skirt, polo, and tights if she had gone to school? What would school have been like?

Marie kicked a pebble and she found herself lost in fantastical thoughts about school. Would she have had any friends? She snorted, shoving her hands in her pockets and grasping the wallet. Not likely.

Glancing once over her shoulder, Marie pulled out her dinner money and tossed the soft leather into the nearest bin. She tried to pawn a nice wallet like that once and almost got arrested. The crisp bills slid between her fingers and she whistled softly. That's a lot of singles.

As the sun began to dip in the sky, Marie made her way towards the restaurant district. It was full of sweaty tourists and whining children. She dodged a mini-mist fan thrown by a raging toddler and glared at the oblivious parents. She turned down an empty alley and pushed open the back door to Giulia's Italian Cuisine.

The exchange was simple: wash and dry all the dishes by the end of the night for a plate of leftover food. No questions asked.

Marie drummed her fingers against the rim of the metal sink. Several stacks of dirty dishes sat next to it. Tap water made a hollow sound that echoed throughout the back of the kitchen as it filled the basin. It drowned out the cheesy Italian music played in the dining room.

Grabbing a soapy dishcloth, Marie began scrubbing at the first of many dishes. The work was mindless. It took several worthless hours out of the twenty-four she had to spare. Plus, she got a free meal.