CHAPTER 468: CHAPTER 468: SAME OLD SHIT (PART 8)

A few minutes rolled by with Donald still circling back to Becky.

Same tone, same grin, same hand gestures like he couldn’t believe his own luck. Don let him talk. He gave the occasional nod, but most of it washed over him.

He thought about warning him, but then again—he had no right. Not after how things had gone with Samantha. Sometimes the unlikely held. Sometimes it didn’t.

Donald’s buzz started to taper after a while. He slumped back, glasses sliding down his nose again. "I told Hector about it a few days ago," he said with a shrug. "He said to be careful. But I’m sure about this."

Don seized on the opening. "Speaking of... what’s Hector been up to?"

Donald perked. "Oh, you know, the usual—streaming, being super loud, and some not-so-great business decisions." He leaned forward, expression turning more thoughtful. "But his Utube channel on superhuman commentary isn’t bad actually. He mainly streams IRL on Switch, though."

"Check this." Donald fished his phone from his pocket, unlocked it with a swipe, and turned the screen toward Don.

The video lit up, shaky and loud. Hector filled the frame, sweat beading down his forehead, breath heavy like he’d run already. He wore a football jersey, black pants sagged just enough to flash his belt, and a thick gold chain that swung with every exaggerated motion.

"Ey, qué onda, chat!" Hector puffed, grinning into the lens. "We’re standing right here, at the entrance to the mighty SHU, hermano! And today, we gonna—"

"—There he is!!!"

The shout came off-camera, a woman’s voice.

The camera spun, catching a crowd advancing: a cluster of furious women with protest signs, dyed hair in colors that hurt to look at, piercings stacked across brows and lips, thick boots stomping the pavement. Tank tops with slogans about smashing patriarchy.

"Get him!" another voice shrieked.

"Shit!" Hector yelped, eyes darting wide. "Let’s run, hermano, vámonos!"

The chain clinked against his chest as he took off. The first strides were fast, but by the third he blurred. His body pitched forward, arms snapping into motion, legs piston-quick.

In an instant he was a streak, his outline stretching, speed tearing up the frame as he blasted deeper onto campus.

The camera struggled to follow—the sound warped into wind and rushing static.

Behind, the angry chorus rose again. "Let’s get his cameraman too!"

"Yea!!"

A male voice cracked, "Wait—!"

The feed spun as the camera jolted, hit pavement. thudd~ Feet stomped across the lens, muffled yelling drowned out the mic. Then the screen cut black.

Don sat back, brows lifted mildly. "Wow."

The phone dimmed as the video ended. Don looked to Donald. "Just what did he do to make all those women mad?"

Donald scratched at his cheek, sheepish. "Before this, he streamed some group’s meeting on campus. I think it was a women’s empowerment class. And he walked in asking for the man in charge."

Don blinked. "...Seriously?"

Donald nodded fast. "I wouldn’t have believed it if I didn’t see it myself. Why else would feminists be after him?"

"Fair enough," Don said, settling back. "Looks like you guys have a lot going on these days."

Donald chuckled, rubbing his neck. "Yeah... well, maybe except for Tori."

That pulled Don’s brow up again. "What about her?"

Donald hesitated, then sighed. "I don’t know how to put it. She’s just... so introverted, y’know? And that’s coming from me. Even texting, it’s mostly about gaming. Hector told me she doesn’t have many girlfriends either ’cause she’s bi and had a bad experience once with a friend. I don’t know the details, but it might explain why she prefers being on her own."

Don nodded faintly, turning it over but not holding it. ’Must be why she leaned on internet friends. Nothing unusual there.’

Most of what friends talked about never mattered in the long run. It wasn’t about value—it was about air.

About breathing easy for a while. Don found himself listening more carefully than he thought he would, letting Donald’s voice fill the space while he sat back into the sofa.

Time slipped fast. Donald kept the chatter rolling—campus gossip, random internet spats, half-baked theories about classmates.

Don mostly listened. Between it all, he picked up one detail worth noting: nearly the entire first-year student body at SHU was scared of him. Not shocking.

After what he’d done there, it would’ve been stranger if they weren’t. What he wondered, though, was how the seniors viewed him. The only one he knew was Hector. That thought stayed in his head, never his mouth.

A glance at his watch gave him the cue. Don raised his wrist. "I better get going, man."

He stood, tugging his shirt down smooth before adding, "I’ll let you know about the VR thing."

Donald pushed himself up too. "Yeah, sure, man." He walked ahead toward the door, Don trailing after.

"I should probably tie Rex up," Donald muttered as he twisted the knob. "He might actually chase those kids."

Don said nothing, just stepped out with him.

Then he saw it.

Cassie’s pink G-Wagon parked right in front of where he’d left his Mustang. His sigh slipped out low—not for Donald to catch, but enough to be real.

Through the half-open gate, women’s voices drifted. Cassie’s among them.

’I really don’t have time for this... maybe I’m overthinking it. She might’ve already moved on to some other young bastar—’

The thought cut short.

Cassie herself stepped out, caramel-brown suit hugging her frame, neckline generous enough to leave little to imagination. The gate swung wider under her push.

"Oh, I knew my eyes didn’t deceive me when I saw that fine piece of muscle parked by the curb," she called playfully, hand sliding to her hip. "And now there’s another fine piece of muscle standing right in front of the house."

Donald’s head snapped around. "Mom!"

Cassie’s gaze slid reluctantly past her son, landing on Don. She sighed, waved Donald off. "Oh, don’t be such a prude, sweetie." She walked forward, heels ticking against the stone path until she stood beside Don.

Leaning in, she tipped her body close—close enough he had a full view down the open cut of her suit. She didn’t even look at him. Her eyes stayed on Donald.

"I’m just fangirling over our city’s hero," she added, voice warm enough to sting.

Donald groaned, rubbing at his forehead. "Why do you have to embarrass me like this? Argh."

Cassie pulled back with practiced smoothness, steps carrying her forward like nothing had happened. "Don’t be upset. I’m not here long anyway. Just forgot a folder."

She tossed it off as she moved past them. Then, just as Don started walking away, her voice lifted again.

"Oh, hold on, darling!"

Don paused, half-turned. Cassie looked at Donald, hands pressing to her hips. "I was trying to get your contact info from Don Don here, and he said he couldn’t without permission."

She pouted, bent, and wrapped her arms over Donald’s head, ruffling his hair. Looking at Don as she spoke, she purred, "You don’t mind if he gives it to me, do you? I just want to reach out and thank him someday for saving the city—and more importantly, my darling baby boy. Maybe with something to eat."

Her eyes flicked sharp, almost predatory. "I’m sure Don wouldn’t mind some motherly gratitude."

For a moment, Don almost admired it. The sheer boldness. A true cougar.

He kept his face flat. "Yeah, sure. I don’t mind."

Her smile bloomed at that. She let go of Donald, who sagged under the release.

"Fine, whatever," he muttered, defeated. "Just don’t send him anything weird."

"You worry too much," Cassie said, pinching his cheek, voice honeyed. "Just say you’re happy to have a best friend."

Donald flushed, tugging his head away. "That’s not it. We’re just casual friends."

"A super popular best friend, a sexy girlfriend..." Cassie teased, eyes narrowing in mock adoration. "My baby’s all grown up."

"Argh!" Donald groaned, spinning away.

Don was already gone, walking calm to his car. He slid inside, the faint trail of their voices clear in his ears as he shut the door. He let a small smile slip before he keyed the ignition.

The Mustang growled awake. vrooom~

Don pulled off.