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Harry and Lucille sat and caught up as she drew and the auditions went on. Harry had just been up to his usual, drifting through schools and girls faster than Luce could binge a television show. She didn't exactly approve of his lifestyle most of the time, but he was getting better. Hopefully, Midtown would have a good impact on him.
As they spoke, Luce mentioned the fight she'd had with her dad about the treatment and how he refused to let Harry's dad help. "I've never known my father to be so generous," Harry scoffed. "Your dad should take it while he is still offering."
"I told him that, but he's too proud. He doesn't want to have to accept money from anyone for personal matters. Not even his friends," Luce explained as she continued to draw. "Which I can understand. I just wish there was something I could do. I don't think he wants to anymore, though. I think he may actually have given up on trying to walk."
They fell into silence for a moment, but she felt Harry's eyes on her. He looked sad; like he felt bad for her. Whenever she spoke to people about this, she usually did receive pity stares, so she wasn't surprised. This was definitely part of the reason why Luce didn't tell people about these things.
"Do you blame them?" Harry asked quietly. "For the Attack?"
"Who? The Avengers?" Luce specified. When Harry nodded, she thought for a moment. "My dad does. He always says that if they hadn't brought the aliens, then I wouldn't need my treatments."
"Okay," Harry nodded again. "But do you blame them? For what happened to your dad and Val? And you?"
Luce thought back to herself sitting in the streets, calling to Iron Man to save them, him flying away. He was supposed to be a hero, and her dad almost died because he didn't stop to help him. But he had had so many people to save that day, was it fair to blame him? Or any of them for that matter?
"I honestly don't know, Harry. It was three years ago. Some days I do, and some days I don't. It's just that-"
"Who. Is. That?" Harry interrupted, staring up at the stage.
Turning from her friend to the stage, she saw none other than Evangeline. Her smile gleamed as she sang, curls swaying softly with each small movement, her beautiful voice echoing through the auditorium. "Evangeline Andrews. She's a friend of mine," Luce answered simply.
"You know her?" Harry gaped.
"Hey, don't be so quick to judge, Osborn," she mimicked Harry's response from earlier. "My personality isn't that off-putting."
"Are you telling me that Lucille McClair is popular?" Harry asked with wide eyes, sarcastic for the most part.
"Okay, this time I am a little offended," she laughed. "No, I'm nowhere near popular. I just have friends that I made early on and managed to hold on to. Eve is one of my closest friends. We met during elementary school when my family moved into our apartment."
