Chapter 1 'The First Visit'

A couple clicks left with his mouse was all it took and then he would be live.

It was currently about 9 on a Thursday night, he and his friends had wrapped on their weekly group study session some hours ago, so he managed to get his homework done tonight, leaving ample enough time to set his stuff up. Zach had been trying to hype himself up for the past weeks in setting up his first SHOUTcast. The resident glow stick had been carefully curating his playlist on his computer for his debut stream. Ethan had even stayed behind a bit to help him deal with the tech jargon again: encoder this, IP address that-

Spinning around his desk chair, he took in the sight of his library of music set up in basically floor- to-ceiling shelving, illuminated by the warm light of his desk lamp. He was a bit of an eclectic collector- he got Dizzy Gillespie and the Pointer Sisters stored among his box of records on the lower levels but then he got cassettes for bands like and New Order in the middle, and more of the recent stuff like Simple Plan and Snoop Dogg in newly bought, plastic wrapped CD cases. That reminded him to grab the new Eminem album the next time he was at the mall…

Music was his life, ever since he was little. It was something that he got from his mom, who had gifted him some of her favorites, the origin of the collection he had come to expand over the few years. He stared wistfully at the box of records, contemplating on making a switch in the line up to include that one Santo and Johnny song he knew she liked- the one he could never remember since it was in Spanish.

He swiveled back around to face his computer again. He grabbed the mouse, preparing to launch his stream.

Here we go.

He took a deep breath and… ended up closing out of the window entirely.

"Nope, nope, nope," he stood up and started pacing around the room, "Can't do it. Nope. Not yet." He had been hyping himself up for weeks. For weeks. Because he had tried to launch his stream weeks ago and the same thing would happen every Thursday night at around 9, with the same doubts plaguing his mind.

He had a very unique taste in music. Maybe a little too unique? He often wondered. He was often written off as a guy who was solely into hip-hop and rap, but he held much respect for the greats that came before- in all different genres, in fact! It was tough. He wanted to play everything. A new genre every night. A blending of two genres, even? Fuck. That might not work. It was hard to build an audience when he didn't know who the fuck he was or what to play. People wanted consistency these days.

What if someone from school found his SHOUTcast? He was already a joke to plenty of the student body, despite what had happened at Homecoming. It was pretty much the reason he still didn't have a Myspace yet, even though it was the hub for music exposure. And if he had it his way, he would make sure there wasn't anything anybody could tease him about ever again. And he had that control- he could make sure nobody could hear his music. Well, not his music- that would be the dream though- to produce. Maybe it could solve his genre-hopping if he could just make something else different all together and nobody could tell him if it was right or wrong…

Well someone could still tell him it sucks.

Zach stopped pacing and made his way back to his computer.

And he pressed play and had the whole room filled with Orange Juice's funky bass riffs. Would be a waste to leave the songs unplayed, he mused. Even though it seemed counterintuitive to solve his problem (music) with even more music, it was still cathartic. He closed his eyes, bobbed his head, and started spinning around to the sound of Edwyn Collins' singing. He preferred this sound over his solo career, in his opinion.

He started doing his own rendition of the running-man in the middle of the room when he heard a thunk and a rustling noise coming from near his bed.

The tall boy immediately stiffened and straightened up, hoping his ears were deceiving him, maybe confusing the bubbly beats of OJ with the sounds of an intruder? But his hearing had grown keen enough to filter through the music to listen for his dad's footsteps coming up the stairs in case he had to quickly shut it off before he came into his room and yelled for him to.

He definitely heard something was off. But just in case it was a threat, since he did go to a school for superheroes after all, he turned to the direction of the noise. Quietly, he picked up the poster canister that had been propped up against his music shelves and held it up like a bat, stalking towards his bed. It was in the left hand corner of his room, nestled against the wall where the window was, positioned near the foot of his bed. Maybe it had been the branch scratching at the window he heard? But a branch making a thunk sound? But he couldn't turn down the music to check for more noises, he didn't want to alert whoever or whatever that he was on to them.

All of the sudden the same rustling came from the spot where he had just come from, all the way on the opposite side of his room. He spun around again, now knowing for sure there was something in here with him. He crept closer to that corner of the room, nearly tripping on the random articles of clothing scattered all over his floor. He wanted to try for the closet, located on the wall adjacent to the one where his shelves were at, to seek out this intruder. It was better to close in now or else they would simply move to another corner of the room again- how without him seeing he had yet to figure out.

It wasn't until he heard a small high pitch chime right behind him that he instinctively did what was probably his third anxious 180 that night and immediately stomped his foot on wherever he saw movement, letting out an impromptu battle cry, his voice cracking and his makeshift bat raised in the air. But to his surprise, his foot caught onto a purple composition book rather than the cape of a mysterious assailant and -even more to his surprise- seeing a small black guinea pig with purple highlights dragging the book along.

"The fu-!" His expletive cut short when he heard heavy footsteps heading for his room. The guinea pig dashed under the bed just in time for Zach's dad to enter and flip the light switch on.

"Zachary James, what have I told you about making noise at this time of night?" His dad looked at him sternly, arms crossed.

Zach awkwardly hid the poster canister behind his back. Head lowered not making eye contact, "Not to. But I thought I saw something-"

"And your response was to shout like a maniac?"

"Yeah-no... " Zach winced, "Sorry dad, won't happen again."

"Good," he said curtly, while looking around the room, as if to look at something else to yell at him about. His eyes roamed around the floor before landing on the composition book Zach was stepping on, "Clean up your room before you go to bed. And turn that stuff off, understand?"

"Yes sir," And as soon as he arrived, his dad was out the door without a 'goodnight' or even shutting his lights off. Typical. Zach swiped at the light switch and the harsh recess lights were replaced by the homey ambiance created by his lamp. He fell against the door clutching the tube to his chest, sighing. A couple beats passed before a very human Magenta emerged from under his bed. He didn't know what was worse, for Magenta to hear his squeaky battle cry or hear the reprimanding he got from his dad.

"Jesus, what a douchebag,"

He closed his eyes wanting to be anywhere but here. Yep, definitely the dad thing, he thought. Then he was brought back to the matter at hand, "What the hell are you doing here?"

She crawled over to the composition book, as if she were still a guinea pig, and plucked it off the floor as she stood up, "Left this here from study group tonight."

"And you thought to sneak into my room?" he asked in disbelief. He looked around, "Like, Like how did you even-?"

Magenta pointed to the window, as if it gave a complete answer. His room was on the second floor. It just left more questions on how she got up here. The shapeshifter then began flipping through the book and made her way to the further right corner of his room where his bean bags were and took a seat.

Zach dropped the canister and ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm down from whatever the fuck just happened in the span of the past few minutes.

He still didn't understand Magenta sometimes. In fact, there was a lot he didn't know about her, despite them being friends since freshman year started and despite them being in the same math class as each other. It had been a month since they had danced together at Homecoming, when she threw him a bone and danced with him. But that had been a one off and it was an unspoken agreement that they were friends. Even though Zach had shown immense interest in her.

He was still very much interested in her. Very much so. But he wasn't sure how to broach that topic since he still enjoyed being friends, even though they didn't get to talk much one on one a lot since they were always in a group. Even in their Algebra class they barely talk, but that was mostly due to Magenta either cutting the last 20 minutes or just not showing up at all for reasons he nor their friends knew.

So the fact that she was in his room, just her and no Ethan, Layla or Will, instantly made him feel like an awkward host.

"Hm… who's on right now?" The shapeshifter inquired all of the sudden, eyes not leaving the book.

Zach realized his playlist was still going on and he walked over to lower the volume, not wanting to get in trouble with his dad for the second time that night. He cocked his head to the side to hear that 80's new wave turned into 90's hip-hop with a bit of a reggae vibe, "Uh…The Fugees." he identified.

"It sounds familiar," She closed the book, leaving it on the bean bag, then went to observe his music collection. She hadn't done this earlier in the night during their study session or any of the other times they would meet up in here, often getting right down to business and pulling out the history textbook to go over what comic book hero strategy they were supposed to know before their test the following day.

"Uh yeah," Zach scratched the back of head, leaning against his desk, "You-you might have heard the one by Roberta Flack...uh back in like the '70s and uh-," Why was he so nervous? Maybe it was the fact that a cute girl was within close proximity to him and just casually pursuing the collection he spent most of his life creating?

"Um… well… It's kinda funny since what you're hearing now is a cover of Flack's song when actually, Flack's version was a cover too. Kinda sucked that the person who originally helped make the song wasn't the one who made it big on the charts though."

Magenta turned her head to glance up at him, "I guess the song was just too big for one person to sing."

Zach grinned, "Exactly. I mean sometimes it's hard to wrap your head around the idea of hearing someone besides Freddie Mercury wailing on 'Somebody to Love' or even-"

"-Brittney Spears singing 'Oops I Did it Again?'" Magenta held up the artist's CD she had plucked from his collection. A hint of an amused smile was pulling on the edge of her lips.

"It's-It's catchy!" He suddenly grabbed the CD from her and returned to the upper shelf where it belonged, "She single-handedly ushered in a new era of pop music, Maj."

He could hear the shapeshifter trying really hard not to laugh, "I mean, I can't argue with that."

"I mean," Zach tried to get back to the point he was making, "What I'm saying is that, the song, 'Killing Me Softly'-" He reached over to grab the Fugees album since he was already up there returning Brittney Spears and handed it to Magenta who he now realized he had gotten really close to.

"Um… " he accidentally backed up into the shelves in an attempt to keep a respectable distance, "l-like the lifespan of the song could just go on because of people constantly remixing it and re-releasing it to the public. For my mom, it was Roberta Flack's version she had grown up on. For me," He tapped on the cover in Magenta's hands, "It was Lauryn Hill's. The song could be on the charts again one day, and my kids could be hearing a completely different version of the song. Like think of the possibilities for what a song can be to people if artists were more willing to separate themselves from the songs- then the song switches hands and could just, like outlive them."

Magenta hummed and for a second Zach thought he kinda made an ass of himself just harping on and on about the history of some song from the '70s. But the thing was, it wasn't just some song. None of the music he had on his shelf were just some songs. These songs were the cornerstones of human history! And he was ready to defend every single song he had stored in his room, on his computer, and he shouldn't care if Magenta liked it or understood whatever the fuck he was saying-

"That's actually really cool,"

"Really?" Zach nearly toppled over the shelf before collecting himself, "Um, I mean… you think so?"

Magenta nodded, "Yeah. It's hard to come by, you know, the idea of something that lasts. I like it."

Zach glanced at the box of records, "Me too," It grew quiet for a couple of minutes, apart from the music playing on his computer. During that time, Magenta strode over to his desk area and plopped onto his chair, The Score still in her possession, "Uh.. what do you listen to?" he inquired.

The girl spun around in the seat, "Why don't you take a guess?"

"I'd rather not,"

"Are you afraid of offending me?" He took in the girl decked out in combat boots and the pink camo and mesh shirt with striped arm warmers lounging around in his chair giving him a pointed look. He wasn't sure how to answer that (or if there was a right answer to begin with). Also, he didn't like making assumptions about people, especially about their music taste. From his experience, a person's taste in music could be so diverse and nuanced and to box them into one genre was, like rejecting any other aspects of their personality. He wanted the opportunity to get to know Magenta more before he could accurately gauge her music taste.

"Look it's fine. I really wanna know what you think,"

Zach blew out sigh. Considering how little he knew Magenta, this could be a disastrous reading, "I really… really wanna say anything that plays at Hot Topic. But that's too easy. Though I won't put it past you if you did like some Nine-Inch Nails or Korn or something..." The girl made a noncommittal sound but gestured for him to keep going, "And I wanna say you like Hilary Duff or Kelly Clarkson, but somehow that's also kinda predictable too," Zach paused, "I got it. Weezer. You have to like Weezer, right?"

Magenta let out a sigh and kicked at his shin good-naturedly, "Everyone and their kid brothers like Weezer, Glowworm."

"Hey, I was right though!" She chuckled slightly, making Zach follow in suit. It wasn't often that he heard Magenta laugh. Oftentimes what would earn her amusement would be utter humiliation… like him clad in only his boxers in front of the whole class (he would get red just thinking about the incident). Or like the time when Warren and Will whooped Lash and Speed's asses during Save the Citizen.

"Y-Yeah. You're right though I do have shit like Three Days Grace on Myspace. I mean the Hot Topic conjecture," she gestured to herself, "Is not entirely baseless. Also a little tidbit: girls who dress like me have or have had a Hilary Duff CD in their possession and whoever tells you any different are fucking liars. But dude," she sighed, "No Doubt? Letters to Cleo?"

Zach groaned, "Of course. Of course you like Letters to Cleo."

"Do you have something against Letters to Cleo?" she narrowed her eyes while crossing her arms but clearly not emitting her usual level of intimidation. Her smirk was more on the playful side rather than the threatening side too.

He held his hands up in a yielding and good natured manner, and still giggling, "I'm not making fun. I don't make fun-"

"-Really? You kinda sound like you-"

"-I was just gonna say this one thing-"

"-that's rich coming from a guy with a Moby album-"

"-Now wait just a minute," Zach held up a finger, "You did not just diss Moby."

"His stuff sounds like what an acid trip would feel like," She asserted with hand gestures, fully grinning now. "Old stuff or new stuff?" "I don't know I only really heard the Eurotrash dance trance whatever,"

Zach put his hand to his heart, feigning deep offense but couldn't manage to keep up with the facade with all the laughing he was just doing in their fake argument, "Wow. Just wow. I'm wounded, Maj."

"Sorry, Glowworm. There needed to be an intervention," She then went on to mimic Rachel Leigh Cook in that one commercial, pretending she was holding an imaginary egg and setting it down on Zach's desk, "This is your brain," Using the album in her hands, she faked smashing the egg, "This is your brain on Moby."

"Unbelievable. I get it. But what I was trying to say before, was that of course you like Letters from Cleo. You got that whole Julia Stiles thing going on,"

She quit laughing and was now sporting a more serious expression. Eyebrow raised, she asked, quoting from 10 Things I Hate About You, "You think I'm a 'heinous bitch', Zachary?"

The sudden change in tone had tripped Zach up and was now apologetic, "What? No, no no, no-"

"I'm messing with you, doofus,"

"Oh right," Zach remarked, as if he knew that all along, "Of course."

Up until that point, he was beginning to feel more at ease with Magenta. It was tough for him to try and talk to her because he honestly wasn't sure what to expect, which in turn just made it so hard to impress her because that was what most of their interactions were like up until tonight. Just him trying so hard to impress her. But he couldn't act like he wasn't trying to impress her earlier tonight, showing off his musical prowess (and he didn't even touch the keyboard that was stored away in his closet). But the fact that it apparently was receiving pretty damn well flipped some sort of switch inside him, and now he was able to talk to her like a normal fucking person. It probably helped that they were talking about something that he could definitely go on and on about. It was nice. For a second it was just so easy to talk to her and joke around, but then he couldn't help but notice the abrupt change in the conversation flow. And it seemed purposeful. For a second they had been on that same wavelength, but it seemed like she wanted to change channels before they got too chummy.

"Yeah, um," Magenta stood up and headed back to the opposite corner of the room, where she left the composition book, "Just gonna grab this and go."

Zach knew this was probably a moment where it was best for him to shut up but he couldn't help but ask, "Is that for a class?"

"Just a bit of nonsense," she dismissed while making her way to the window.

"Well… it can't be nonsense if you're here in my room at 9:30 at night, right?" He figured it might have been more than just a simple notebook, otherwise she might have just simply called him or IM-ed him to bring it to school tomorrow. Considering the crazy lengths she went through- breaking and entering and inciting a full on argument about Moby- it might have been something special.

He heard her sigh. He had her there. She bounced a little bit between her left and right leg, as if she was deliberating with herself. She then dropped the book and album on his bed (he still wondered why she still had the CD) and began lifting the window open. The cool night breeze flowed in, making the pieces of her hair that framed her face dance along the wind, "Um.. just some scribblings. I write." she ended up admitting.

He smiled "That's really cool," he found himself echoing the words she said to him.

Her eyes dropped to the floor and she gave a quick nod, "Thanks."

Zach knew the 'thanks' was for more than what he had just said, "No worries." He played it cool, or tried. Hopefully, she didn't notice him mentally high-fiving himself for not butchering those few words with his stuttering.

She sat on the windowsill and swung her legs over and was now crouching on his roof. She reached over and grabbed her composition book and the Fugees album, "Can I borrow this?" she whispered, not wanting to draw attention to her presence outside.

Zach tried not to show signs of complete and utter repugnance at the initial thought of letting someone borrow from his collection. But, she was well out the window at this point, and if it was anyone else maybe he wouldn't have- Well now, that he thought more about it, he was actually okay with his other friends borrowing his collection. Maybe not Will. He had this weird inkling that if he were to give one of his CDs to his super-strong friend, he might not see it again… well in one piece. The guy was like his dad sometimes, undermining his own strength and poor household items suffered because of it.

"Go for it," he finally decided.

"Cool," she nodded in the direction of his shelves, "Despite Moby, and few other questionable choices, that's one hell of a library though."

Zach rubbed the back of his neck all sheepishly, trying to ward off the blush that was making its way up to his face due to the sentiment, "Thanks."

Magenta took out a small canvas bag that she must have been keeping on the roof and placed her items inside. And before Zach could protest, she tossed the bag onto the lawn then leapt off the roof and landed on the tree branch having completely transformed into a guinea pig. He had bounded for the window as soon as he saw her jump. He squinted, trying to make out her guinea pig form from the darkness of night. He tracked irregular movement on the tree and watched her leap onto another branch, revert back to human form mid-air, and swing on that branch like a monkey bar before sticking the landing perfectly, and safely, on the lawn.

He saw her give a two finger salute in the direction of his window. Then she swiped up the bag and jogged off down the street.

Zach practically collapsed onto the windowsill, head resting against the wooden frame and letting the cool air get rid of that flush that had been concentrating on his face. He felt like he could finally breathe again after that whirlwind of an encounter with the girl that he had been lowkey (highkey) crushing on.

But what an opportune moment for his playlist to play Tommy Roe's 'Dizzy' during his musing on the enigmatic shapeshifter.

Dizzy

I'm so dizzy

my head is spinning

Like a whirlpool, it never ends

And it's you, girl, making it spin

You're making me dizzy

Zach let his head thunk against the windowsill. Took the words right outta brain, Tommy, he thought to himself. He was chilling there, kneeling in front of the window and recalling the stressful yet oddly enjoyable experience being in his friend's company. It took a few minutes of mentally rewinding the events of the night for Zack to register Magenta's last words to him before she left.

"Wait, what other questionable choices?!"

Songs Mentioned: 'Rip it Up' by Orange Juice, 'Killing Me Softly' by the Fugees, 'Dizzy' by Tommy Roe