SuperVillain

2

As soon as I heard the door open, I recited the line I'd said so much in the past month: "Hello, welcome to the Mid-Fais City Hall. My name is Leila Jackson, how can I help you?" Although, the way I said it, with my words all jumbled together, it came out as "HellowelcometotheMidFaisCityHallMynameisLeilaJacksonhowcanIhelpyou?"

When I didn't get an answer, I looked up to see the boy I ran into yesterday gaping. "You're the mayor?"

"Um, yeah," I said, unsure what to do. "Kinda. What do you want?" No, that wasn't right. "What do you need?" I corrected.

"Oh, I'm here to get a paper for my dad."

"Ah. Mr. Madison can help you. Mr. Madison!" I called.

Mr. Madison walked into the room. "Yes, Miss Jackson?"

"This boy needs help getting a paper for his dad."

"Of course. What's your father's name, young man?"

"Andrew LeBone."

"Alright. Be right back." Mr. Madison left so I was alone with the boy.

After a few moments of silence, he blurted, "So how did you become the mayor?"

 "What do you mean by that?" I frowned.

He was stuttering. "I mean, I thought mayors wore, like, pantsuits and stuff, but you're over there in earbuds and a tank top."

"Running a city isn't about fashion. Just because I have a job most teenagers wouldn't have, it doesn't mean I have to dress like it." I wrinkled my nose thinking about old people clothes.

The boy gasped. "You're how old?"

"16."

"Aren't you supposed to be in school, though?"

"Geez, do you ever stop asking questions?" I leaned back in my chair.

"Sorry."

"Yes, I am technically supposed to be in school."

"Then why aren't you?"

I felt the spark in my stomach. I felt the pain between my eyes and everything I could see started to turn yellow. If Mr. Madison hadn't walked in just then, the boy would've been in a world of trouble. "Well, it's a long story and you better be on your way I bet your dad is waiting for you bye!" I rushed.

The boy grabbed the paper and had started to open the door.

"...Wait!"

I heard him inhale sharply, as if I was annoying, before he turned back around. "Yes?" he said, clearly fed up with me.

"You never told me your name."

"And why do you care?"

"Oh, you know, mayoral duties and all that stuff. It's important to know about your citizens."

"Mason. Mason LeBone." And with that, he left.

I sat in my apartment, staring at my phone screen. When the call to my mom went straight to voicemail, I threw my phone onto the rug and buried my face in a pillow on my couch.