Masks: The Worst Generation (IC)

[Kirjath]

Nuisance
Conditions: Afraid, Insecure, Hopeless

Sarah froze again as Mr. Rodgers' hand shot to her face. Her eyes bulged and darted around, unsure where to look as he began his rather impertinent examination. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Sarah was vaguely aware that this man's hands had beaten several criminals to a rather nasty pulp as part of his career. Even with that, it still felt like an old dude was suddenly getting a little too familiar. Thankfully, he didn't start looking at her teeth or Sarah would've begun freaking out properly. This was perhaps the most awkward moment of her life aside from the time she had an impromptu elevator ride with Hive. Or maybe that time when she left her computer unlocked and her dad discovered she'd left the internet open on some rather risque fanfiction. Ok, maybe nothing was as embarrassing as that had been.

But as soon as it started, Mr. Rodgers was already done with his inspection and Sarah let go of a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. She rubbed her cheeks unconsciously as she reexamined the short hero. What was his deal? How did he already know she was a superhero? Why did she even bother with a secret identity if everyone she met already knew what she was? And why did he insist on poking her with his cane? That was...almost degrading. Mostly just irritating.

"I'm sorry I 'sound poor'." Sarah remarked, woundedly holding her arms. Mr. Rodgers wasn't as cool as she'd first hoped, but that seemed to be a recurring theme with the heroes she looked up to. Was this all there was to heroism? Did Mr. Rodgers and Looking Glass go to the same hero academy or something? They just never outright said anything without trying to lead you somewhere. It always felt like she was being talked down to. No one had the decency to treat her like someone worthy of respect.

Fine. Just let it be. Stop getting so down over this stupid stuff. Don't let him push you, not again.

"I came here looking for a mask because I'm going to a fancy party that I have no business attending and meeting more people like you who probably don't want to see me. I just wanted to look nice and fit in for one night. I wanted to dance and have fun and feel like I actually belonged in the hero community. I was going to put a mask on for once, ok? I just wanted to fit in. This, right here?"

Sarah pointed to her face.

"This is what I am. A poor sounding girl, doing what she can. If this is a mask, it's a really crappy one. Just about everyone sees right through it the moment I start talking with them anyways, so that's why I came here. I didn't ask for charity, and I'm not going to steal from you. If you want, I could work for the stupid mask. Your shop looks like it needs to be cleaned, and I'm at least pretty good at that. My mom used to be in the military, and she made sure I knew how to keep my room tidy. I've also got years of experience in shelving and merchandising for this kind of store. My dad's shop has never been cluttered. Not once."

The basement was, but that was Mr. Matthews' workshop. He tended to like the mess, and so she left it alone.

Taking on a second part-time job for a single article of clothing seemed extreme. This whole Gala thing was a task and a half just to show up to, but Sarah was determined now. If it required more effort on her part, then she was going to give it all she had. She was going to this party, and she was going to enjoy herself.