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The roar of the crowd is loud. Deafening, to Aisha.
Droplets of deep, deep red on the polished stage floor reflect the flashing lights of an abandoned performance, trailing from parted curtains, through a bustling backstage, on the heels of platformed boots as they made their way through a dressing room door that slammed shut as soon as it opened.
The muffled noise was still too loud, and what little light made it into the dim room was still too bright.
Aisha's frazzled reflection stares back at her through the haze. She watches as a line of red slides from her nose, glitters brightly on the dark skin of her hand, and ends in splotches, stark against the white of her dressing room table.
All the while, a dying golden light sparkles over the blood.
" And —there! Behold! Oh, wait, it seems I've been mistaken."
"Killjoy, please. I'm going to melt on the freaking pavement if you don't hurry up and—"
"Just- hold on, Raze, I know it was around here somewhere, I promise!"
Killjoy stood on her tiptoes, doing her best to scan over the unexpected mass of tourists that flooded the streets of Berlin. The noontime sun beat down on the cobbled pedestrian road, worsening the mood of hungry, frantic, and irritated people who currently shoved passed a very not-that-tall Killjoy trying to scout the area.
Phoenix didn't mind the heat, but the crowd was starting to get on his nerves. He, too, was battling with a demanding stomach, thank you very much.
He steadied Killjoy casually as she fell off balance, quickly thanking him before hunching over her phone once more as she pulled up Google Maps. Seriously, for all her tech and genius, Phoenix wondered why she hadn't invented some exclusive (and reliable) GPS system for herself yet. He didn't ask. Mostly because he knew he'd barely process the answer anyway.
"C'mon, how hard can it be to find some little cafe? Gimme that!" Raze snatched the phone away from Killjoy, who began to protest. Ah yes, more banter.
Again, Phoenix didn't mind. In fact, it was fun to egg them on sometimes, and pretty cute to see how clearly flustered Killjoy could get with Raze. But with food on his mind and an entire afternoon to wait out, pulling out his phone to scroll mindlessly was all Phoenix could do to keep from succumbing to hunger and irritation.
And hey, he wouldn't ruin this trip for himself no matter what. It took all of his leverage and charm to successfully negotiate (read: beg) for Brimstone to let them on this trip, and he wasn't about to let one bad afternoon lost in Berlin to sour the whole affair.
Ding! A twitter notification popped into view. Raze screamed.
“ WHAT!”
“What?” Killjoy snatched her phone back, around the same time Phoenix processed exactly what his notification said. He opened up the post—the official account of the Berlin All-Stars Concert, with an announcement in big bold letters:
We regret to inform all concert-goers that
MUSE
WILL BE UNABLE TO JOIN US
tomorrow evening due to health concerns.
Following was an extended apology and details of compensation, along with a flattering image of Muse herself from a previous performance—posed with her head thrown back mid-belt, her short brown curls flaring around her face with the motion, and neon stage lights glittering over smooth dark skin, reflecting on her pink sequined dress.
Muse was one of the biggest names out there right now in music, and pretty much the biggest reason Phoenix splurged two months of his salary on a concert ticket. Don’t get him wrong, he was still excited as all hell to see the other artists perform—K/DA, Pentakill, all huge names—but well, Muse, she was different. Aside from her idol-like fame, she was relatively new to the music scene compared to the rest, and, well, Phoenix had never seen her live before. He was hoping to be a part of that hype.
“Do you think it could be an accident?” Raze wondered after all three of their initial panic to the news had subsided, now replaced with worry and curiosity.
“What makes you say that?” Phoenix questioned in turn. He hunched over Killjoy’s shoulder to get another peek at the accursed Twitter post, opposite Raze who did the same. Then she swatted them away.
“I don’t know!” Raze whined. “She’s never, like, canceled a concert just like that, no? Just seems a little out of character.”
Well. Muse had always been conversational and open with her fans, from what Phoenix saw on the internet, at least. Again, he’d been hoping to get a bit of that engagement in real life.
“It could be a medical emergency,” Killjoy adjusted her glasses. “That’s what the post says, yes. But she’s her own person. We can’t assume that she’s as open as she seems. Muse is an idol, a celebrity. Most of that’s a persona.”
“Hey! Are you calling Muse a liar or something?”
A roll of the eyes. “Of course not, Raze. Well, a little bit. Just—it’s not a bad thing! It’s fine to enjoy a persona, but it’s not a bad thing if she’s a different person beneath all that.”
“Fair,” Phoenix piped up. “But I have to agree with Raze that it’s a little out of character for her. She’s always given me, like, big sister-energy, you know?” The trio started walking again, following Killjoy after finally closing Twitter and pulling up Maps.
“I don’t know man.” He continued. “She always gave announcements herself, and the fact that it’s a third party doin’ that now—it’s gotta be some kind of emergency.”
“Mmm it’s been, what, thirty minutes and she hasn’t said anything about it?” Raze wondered.
Killjoy glanced over her shoulder at them. “Emergency or not, I don’t see how that’s any of our business. She’s a popstar, but she’s also a person. If she wants privacy for once, so be it.”
Raze nodded in thought, then decided to snatch up Phoenix’s phone.
“Oi!” He yelped, trying to wrangle it back from a cackling Raze.
“Might as well check for updates—it’s still Muse !”
Killjoy groaned. “You two, honestly.”
They turned a corner, and found themselves at the end of a line for a relatively narrow cafe snuggled in between two residential buildings. “Good news, everyone! We’ve arrived. Bad news, uh, it seems like it will be another few minutes before we can eat, ahaha. Oh please, don’t look at me like that!”
According to Killjoy, she considered this little cafe to be the “best in the city” and “pretty under the radar”. Well. Phoenix supposed the latter was only accurate up to the last time she’d been back in her hometown—about a year ago.
They spent about twenty minutes in line only to enter a rather crowded (but admittedly homey) looking cafe, the pleasant atmosphere of which was thoroughly soured by the hoards of people buzzing about trying to find a seat and shuffling in line for the counter. Raze and Killjoy managed to secure a nice little two-seater by the window as soon as they entered, which left Phoenix to fend for himself and find his own table. Despite making a fuss of it, he didn’t really mind. It looked like the two of them could use some alone time.
And that was how Phoenix found himself sat alone at a dingy little corner between the bathroom and the counter line, tucking his limbs in to avoid people knocking into him, and trying to enjoy his sad little croissant and latte across from an empty seat.
Man, he should’ve invited a fourth person. Who knew being a third wheel could be as boring as it was? Literally anyone else to talk to would do—Jett, Skye, hell, even Yoru-
“Excuse me, is this seat taken?”
Phoenix looked up. A stranger in a black hoodie didn’t give him even a second to respond before plopping themself down right in front of him.
“Uh, can I, borrow this?”
“My… drink?”
“Thanks!”
“Wait-”
Before Phoenix could get another word out, the stranger had huddled his latte close to their chest like they were drinking it and tugged their hood further down, almost like they were trying to conceal their face. In the hustle and bustle of the cafe, Phoenix could only guess that they were hiding from someone, but looking through the crowd, he couldn’t spot any would-be pursuers.
“Uh,” he tried again, squinting to get a better look at the stranger. From their voice, Phoenix decided they were a she , but hey, he’d ditch the label if told otherwise. “Are you okay?” He cautiously asked the strange girl.
She kept her head low, close to the drink, but upon further inspection Phoenix could spot shiny gold hoop earrings dangling out of the hood, as well as a rather attention-grabbing flash of pink from the turtleneck she wore beneath. That, and the way she was so obviously hunched over a drink she wasn’t drinking, made it so she was doing a pretty bad job of hiding in Phoenix’s book, and he’d been on stakeouts before.
He was beginning to wonder if this was some sort of tourist scam and he was the victim when the girl suddenly said, “Soap.”
“Excuse me?”
“Sorry, I—” Then she looked up, briefly, and the back of Phoenix’s head lit up with a tingle of familiarity before she turned and abruptly snatched his napkins off the table. “I’m sorry!” She squeaked before heading for the bathroom.
Alright. Now Phoenix was even more confused. If this was a napkin hit-and-run he wouldn’t have minded too much; unfortunately the girl also took his drink with her to the bathroom. A drink which he’d paid for .
“Hey!” He called after her. By the time he made his way around the crowd of busy patrons, the girl in the hoodie was rushing out the back entrance with a stack of napkins and—a whole ass soap dispenser? What.
Alright. So. That was strange.
His drink was either with the girl (he’d been too distracted by the soap dispenser to check) or it had been left back in the women’s bathroom, and he wasn’t going to check there . He decided the drink wasn’t exactly as important as getting an explanation—alright, maybe compensation for the drink too—and, glancing over, Killjoy and Raze seemed to be having a pretty fun time without him, and nothing particularly interesting was going to be missed by sticking around an overcrowded cafe…
And so, Phoenix grabbed his half-finished croissant and took off after the girl in the hoodie.
The restaurant’s backdoor led out into a narrow alleyway, where Phoenix emerged just in time to spot the hooded figure darting between rubbish bins and into another alley.
He called after his mysterious latte thief, but she remained deaf to his calls as she dashed between brick walls. Where she ran, Phoenix followed. The alleyways were easy, though Phoenix had to shuffle around trash and junk and—boy was this girl nimble. Just as Phoenix thought he might be able to catch up to her, she ran into the main street where she proceeded to dodge cars and pedestrians with as much care as the average GTA player. Damn.
Needless to say, Phoenix shuffled after desperately, trying not to get run over while tanking a flurry of German insults hurled his way. He slid into another alley leaving a flurry of rushed apologies in his wake, twisting and turning around new narrow corners with only the faintest guess as to where the girl had gone, before finally—he came to a stop when he realized the girl was close, and she had stopped too.
He could hear her, talking in hushed tones just around the corner.
Deciding to take a page out of Yoru’s book instead of Jett’s this time, Phoenix crouched low and carefully peaked around the brick wall. There, he saw the hooded girl crouched over a smaller figure—a child, injured, bleeding from a cut on her forehead. Phoenix’s eyes widened.
“—be okay, you’ll be fine,” Latte Thief was saying, sounding as panicked as she looked. “I’ve got soap and, uh, napkins and we’ll uh, we’ll just disinfect this and y-you’ll be fine—just—”
With clammy hands, she squirted some soap into a napkin and poured a bit of water onto it from a bottle Phoenix hadn’t initially spotted. No latte in sight. Alas. Also, he wasn’t Sage by any means, but he was pretty sure this was not how first aid was supposed to go.
The injured girl laughed weakly from the sight of the soap dispenser that had been clearly ripped right off the wall, and Hoodie Girl seemed to calm down a little at that. She smiled softly and placed the (rather disgusting) napkin on the little girl’s open wound. Before Phoenix could announce his presence and prevent an incoming infection, Hoodie Girl began to sing, and Phoenix stopped.
Her voice was… not normal. At first, Phoenix just thought, holy shit she sounds fantastic . Her melodic lilt sounded ethereal, like he was being hugged by her voice, like it was piercing through his chest. He just thought she sounded that good , until he noticed the glow.
Where short brown curls dangled out of her hood, a faint golden glow emanated from their very edges, barely there, but Phoenix realized the hum in his chest wasn’t because of some warm feeling from a good song. This was familiar. He felt more awake and refreshed with every note he listened to, almost like Sage’s healing, but different.
Her hazel eyes too were glowing beneath her hood, that same golden color. But they were gentle, smiling along with the curve of cherry pink lips, dimples on smooth dark skin and—
Holy fuck. No wonder she was familiar.
This girl was Muse, the Muse herself—and she was a radiant.
The light died, and the injured, well now formerly injured girl, looked up from beneath the napkin that had been virtually covering her face. No wound, only a bit of soap slathered on unblemished skin. And she hadn’t seen a thing.
“Thank you, Miss,” she croaked up at Hoodie Girl—Muse, right. She seemed weak still, but grateful.
“It’s alright,” said Muse. She looked tired suddenly, holding a hand up to her nose. At first Phoenix thought she might sneeze, until he saw the blood that began to slip past her finger. “The important thing is that you’re okay. Now let’s get you back to your parents before—”
CLANG!
The two girls crouched in an alleyway now stared at Phoenix like a pair of deer caught in headlights. Apparently, he’d been inching forward unknowingly only to kick over a metal lid at his feet. Whoops.
“Wait-” Phoenix tried to call before the two could bolt, but they froze when another voice growled, “ You! ”
From the only other exitway, the one opposite Phoenix that led back to the main street, two men in black suits cast long shadows over the girls. They were panting, scowling, glaring down at the child with intent—and each one had a gun in their hand.
“Come on now, little girl,” called the man on the right. “Like we told you, we won’t hurt you.”
The look of terror in her eyes, the wound that’d been on her forehead, the way Muse moved protectively in front of her despite the blood trickling down her own nose—to Phoenix, that said otherwise.
“Don’t let them take me,” the girl sobbed as the men inched forward, and Phoenix, of course, did the bravest—and some might say stupidest—thing he could have possibly done in that situation. He got involved.
He stepped in front of Muse and swung, hitting the dude that had spoken square in the jaw.
BANG! Dude Number Two shot, but Phoenix had already seized his wrist and his bullet hit the wall. The girl screamed, along with the crowd in the street. Phoenix pulled the arm forward, then slammed his elbow down over the outstretched joint. A fist landed itself across Phoenix’s face and Dude Two stumbled back and away. Phoenix dodged Dude One’s revenge-punches. Once, twice, then kneed him in the gut before wrangling his gun away when he tried to shoot.
Dude Two came hurtling back with his gun raised, and Phoenix had gotten ready to shoot on instinct when— bam , the man crumpled forward. In his place stood Muse, bleeding nose and all, holding the metal lid she’s just smacked their assailant with.
Before Phoenix could dwell on what he’d just witnessed, Dude Number One tried for another swing at Phoenix. This he dodged easily. He kicked his knee out, twisted an arm behind his back, then shoved him against a wall, so hard his nose collided with brick in a bloody mess. This shit was nothing compared to training with Sage on the mat.
Then, leaning over to confirm Dude Number Two was out cold, Phoenix turned to his newly restrained friend and held the gun up to his jugular.
“Who the hell are you?” He demanded, twisting the arm further. “What do you want with that kid?”
Out of the corner of his eye, Phoenix could see Muse still gripping her makeshift weapon defensively, glaring daggers at the man. The little girl stood behind her, clutching at Muse’s clothes. “They tried to take me,” she said in her small voice, accent thick with something that definitely wasn’t German. So she was a tourist, most likely. “They saw me—they saw my pets. They took me from my mama and papa!”
Pets?
The man laughed. Phoenix tightened his grip, and he grunted. “This is none of your business, pal,” the man spat. “Girl’s a radiant. You’ll let us do our jobs if you know better.”
A glint on his collar caught Phoenix’s eye. A metal cuff, with that iconic K symbol. Kingdom, he should’ve known. These fuckers. Stealing tourist kids now too?
“You’re messing with the wrong people, bruv. I’ll tell you that.” Deciding their breath was wasted on the man, Phoenix brought the gun down hard on the back of the dude’s head. And just like that, he was alone in an alley in Berlin with two unconscious Kingdom agents, a suspected radiant tourist, and international popstar Muse, who apparently, was a radiant herself.
Phoenix watched from behind a telephone pole as the little girl ran up to a teary-eyed couple in a crowd of tourists who shared her same dark hair. He watched the mother crush her in a relief-filled hug, before seeming to scold her through tears.
Phoenix watched, keeping himself hidden, while looking through the crowd for any more men in black suits. The girl seemed safe, finally, for now.
Luckily, her parents had been looking for her. Their panic seemed to have increased after police sirens went off a few streets down. Reports of a shooting in Berlin were already making their way through social media, so Phoenix and Muse decided to keep a low profile and have their new little radiant friend promise to keep the whole interaction a secret. Well, except for the bad guys of course—she just had to tell her family she escaped on her own.
“So… Kingdom, you said?” Muse’s voice startled Phoenix. He was still trying to process the fact that freaking Muse was standing next to him. She looked at him innocently with wide hazel eyes, holding the remainder of clean napkins up to her nose despite the bleeding seeming to have died down. Suddenly, he didn’t mind the loss of his latte so much.
“Uh. Yeah,” he coughed, a little awkward. “You know, the megacorporation. I don’t think their experiments on radiants are that big of a secret, but I didn’t know they were just straight up kidnapping people…”
“They’re sick,” Muse scowled. Then she blinked, looking a little embarrassed, “I uh, never thanked you, by the way. You saved that girl.”
Damn. She was right there next to him with frazzled hair in a blood-stained hoodie, just thanking Phoenix casually. Now, he’d never exactly met a famous person before, but he liked to think his gawking wasn’t as obvious as he felt it to be.
“Hey, I mean, all in a day’s work!” Ah, even he cringed at himself.
“You saved my life too. Thank you.”
Damn. Yeah he really did that. Actually not bad—casually save your idol’s life from Kingdom agents after grabbing a quick lunch on vacation. In his head, Phoenix offered a prayer of thanks to Sage for her mandatory close-combat training sessions.
“Aw, don’t sweat it, fam.” He tried to wave casually. “I mean, you helped knock that other guy out—man almost shot me! You’re pretty handy with a bin lid yourself; hell I’d say you’d do great at the—”
The Protocol , Phoenix almost blurted. Whoops.
“The, um, the ring. Like, training ring. Martial arts and all that, yeah.” Smooth. He was pretty sure he was using the wrong terminology but he was a little too panicked to dwell on it.
“Martial arts?” Muse, surprisingly, seemed to peer at him with interest from under her hood. “That’s why! Hah, I was about to say you looked trained with how you took care of those guys!”
“Yeah, that’s me,” he laughed. Whew, she bought it. “Big martial arts guy. Just training to—” save the world . “—er, for situations just like that!”
“For Kingdom agents kidnapping unsuspecting radiant children?”
More or less . Kind of. “Sure. Why not?”
Muse laughed. “Hmm, might have to ask after your instructor, then.”
Phoenix smiled in return. “Eh, I’d say you wouldn’t need too much training. Between your skill with a lid and your radiance, you’ll be a pro in no time.”
Phoenix tried for a laugh, but Muse’s smile dropped, and he immediately held his breath.
“I, uh, right. You saw that.” Muse drew her hood close to her face.
“No, no, no, no! I mean, yes, okay I saw you healing that girl. But, I mean, being a radiant isn’t a bad thing! Sure it gets Kingdom on your arse but I’m—” he stopped. Then coughed. “Listen, I don’t judge, promise. And I think it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
“Well, it’s dangerous.” Muse kept her eyes trained on the pavement. “You’ve already seen them. My powers, they let me heal, but it hurts me everytime I use them.” She waved her bloody napkins for emphasis. “I’d prefer if you didn’t brag to everyone about meeting Muse and discovering she’s a radiant .”
Phoenix set his jaw. “Never. I’d never do that.”
She looked back up at him, and he held her gaze. Maybe it was his tone, or the sudden seriousness of his expression, but after a moment of tense silence, she breathed a sigh of relief. “Yeah, you won’t. I can already tell you’re a good guy.”
“I mean what I said,” Phoenix shrugged, trying not to look too flustered. “Even if you can’t tell the world, embrace it. Even if it’s only to yourself. Embrace what’s unique, embrace what’s part of who you are, and all that.”
Like her lyrics. If Phoenix was trying not to make it obvious he was a huge fan, well, that ship just sailed.
Luckily, Muse didn’t seem freaked out, and the corner of her mouth even quirked up. “You a fan?”
“You make good music,” Phoenix coughed.
“Funny. You strike me as more of a rap guy.”
“Fair assessment, but hey, if I think somethin’ sounds good then it sounds good.”
“I’m honored.” Muse did a little playful bow, and Phoenix shook his head.
“Ah, well, you got me. Was kind of lookin’ forward to seeing you live tomorrow, I’m not gonna lie.”
“Oh, right,” Muse winced. “It’s uh. Well, see, when my powers um, act up—I can’t really control it. Kind of hard to perform when your nose starts bleeding every few minutes, y’know?”
“Sounds like you’re pretty new to your powers?”
“Um. Not really? They were easier to hide back then but…”
“Yeah, the more powerful you get the harder it is to control, especially without any training.” Phoenix nodded sagely, considering this, then noticed Muse was looking at him weird. He coughed, again.
“You’re interesting,” said Muse, which caught Phoenix off guard.
“Er, well, I try I suppose.”
Then, she seemed to remember something, startling herself. “I—I need to head back. Um. I wasn’t supposed to be here but—what did you say your name was again?”
“Phoenix.”
“Aisha,” she stuck out her hand, and Phoenix shook it. Huh, Aisha. “Thanks for saving me from being shot again.”
“Likewise.”
“And um, about the concert. I can’t perform, I don’t think I’m in the condition to.”
He raised his hands like, no problem . Aisha smiled.
“But—I will be there, watching. So, I’m just saying if you’re up for VIP seating…mind if I get your number?”
The line to the arena was long, and the evening air buzzed with the energy of an excited crowd. Spotlights lit up the sky like they were searching for something amongst the clouds and massive posters of various artists glittered on the stadium walls. But Phoenix, well, he was busy staring down at his phone. Raze smacked him over the head about it.
"Ow! The hell was that for!?"
"Live in the moment, mi amigo!" Raze snickered before going back to Killjoy who was also, coincidentally, staring intently at her phone. Hypocrite. Something about a strange signal her devices picked up. Either way, the mild anxiety of waiting for a message to pop up on his phone got the best of Phoenix, and he supposed his mixed feelings about yesterday came spilling out as a result.
"Killjoy let me ask you something," Phoenix ended up blurting.
"Mm?" Killjoy hummed distractedly.
"So, Val— uh, the Protocol. It's our job to save people yeah?"
"Protect the world, actually."
"Same difference, no? We're basically saving people. Humanity, whatever."
"I suppose so. So?"
"So… I'm just. Wondering why we have to keep ourselves a secret. Us radiants, especially."
Killjoy's hand stopped and hovered over her screen. "Phoenix," she said without looking up. "What are you getting at?"
"Aren't we here to keep people safe? Help them feel like, like they belong? Like we belong? With each other. I mean aren't we just a bunch of misfit freaks with weird abilities trying to do our best and protect each other?" He took a breath. "Look, all I'm saying is, if more people knew about us, then we'd be able to help more… fellow weirdos in need. People who need somewhere to belong."
Raze stared at him quietly. Killjoy let the chattering of the crowd fill their silence for a moment, before sighing.
"Phoenix," she whispered slowly. "We are a secret organization formed by an ex-soldier and a mad scientist recruiting whoever they could find with nowhere else to go. We're putting our lives on the line for people who can't know we exist. We're soldiers, not a support group."
With that, Killjoy turned back to tapping on her phone like she didn't just make Phoenix's heart sink six feet beneath the ground. Raze, ever fantastic at reading the room, whistled and pulled out her own phone like, I didn't hear anything, everything's fine!
Phoenix thought that was the end of that, until Raze leaned close to him, and mumbled, "I think we feel like a family anyway."
And maybe Phoenix smiled a little grateful thing.
" Sooooo who is it you keep texting, ey Firebird?"
Alright, way to ruin the mood.
"Probably stalking Muse for surprise good news again, like you've been doing for the past three hours, Raze." Killjoy waved them off. Raze stuck her tongue out at her.
And just because that lit a spark of irritation in Phoenix, he let impulsiveness take over again. "Y'know what, I am texting someone. Muse herself, in fact. I've got front row seats waiting for me and you'd get 'em too if you showed me a lil' bit of kindness." He harrumphed.
Granted, he definitely sounded like a crazy person even to his own ears. Both Killjoy and Raze stared at him in shock for a moment, before busting out in giggles around the same time Phoenix's phone buzzed with a notification.
Front of the line, entrance to the right
-A
Well, well.
"C'mon then. Drinks are on both of you tonight if we don't get front row seats."
Shockingly, Muse had not taken the hint that her "disguise" was totally ineffective as a disguise at all. One glance at practically the same (but cleaner) black hoodie, and it was easy to tell who she was. Not to mention how all three Valorant agents noted the brown curls, gold hoop earrings, and bright pink turtleneck. Not to mention the dark purple designer jeans and iconic thigh-high boots, featured on an almost cosmically planned massive billboard of Muse herself hovering above her. If any doubt was left in Killjoy and Raze in that moment, Muse looking up was definitely what sent them into shock.
Raze was the first to react. "OH MY GOD, IS THAT MU— MMPH !?"
Thank god Killjoy had the common sense to clamp a hand over her mouth.
About half an hour of fangirling and throttling Phoenix for information later (mostly Raze's doing), they found themselves sat a row away from the stage, The Muse right next to them, watching Ahri run across the stage as K/DA performed the concert's closing song. Raze was still buzzing with excitement and awkwardness at the idea of her idol holding a fucking conversation with her, and while Killjoy seemed to be calmer, she shot dumbfounded stares at Phoenix every few seconds.
He had to admit, it felt good being right. He could see why Yoru and Chamber got high off it all the time.
And hell, Muse— ahem, Aisha seemed to be having a great time getting along with Raze and Killjoy. Her eyes sparkled when she talked and she gesticulated with excitement, and she looked at Phoenix like he'd just opened up some new fantastic world for her. He wondered if it was because she was a popstar or a closeted radiant that prevented her from experiencing, well, whatever it was she was experiencing now. Partying? Normalcy? He could imagine how someone who found themself constantly being watched while trying to hide a part of themself would be hard-pressed to make new friends and go to concerts with them. Seeing Aisha experience that—well, it made a satisfying feeling settle in Phoenix's chest.
After a bit of arguing with Raze whether the second row counted as a "frontrow seat", Aisha eventually appeased Raze and Phoenix's debate by offering to buy all the drinks. Phoenix was definitely less thrilled about the idea than Raze, but she insisted it was payment for not being able to perform for them.
"Are you kidding? What's better than actually getting to hang out with you?" Phoenix protested. She seemed to turn red just a little at that, but waved him off all the same.
And so there Phoenix found himself, four bottles of beer into a rave party in full swing at a club somewhere in Berlin. Killjoy was giggling as she facetimed Jett on her phone, Raze was nowhere to be seen presumably lost in the crowd, and Aisha was nursing a cocktail next to Phoenix, sweaty and laughing after they'd both returned from the dancefloor.
Phoenix didn't expect Muse to cancel on her concert, and he sure as hell didn't expect to be doing a bit of hero work on his vacation while inadvertently causing a minor crime scene. But hey, he'd met Aisha. He'd made a new friend, and he liked to think he caused the glint of life in her eyes that wasn't there when they first met.
The night was coming to a satisfying close as the rush of, well, everything began to die down. And then Aisha swayed in her seat, and he saw the blood trickle down her nose.
"Aisha!" Phoenix startled.
She blinked at him, slowly. He realized she wasn't just tired. Her eyes were a little glazed over, and she was slow to bring a hand up to her nose.
"I—"
She began to sway, but Phoenix caught her. Killjoy had wandered off into the crowd, and Raze was still MIA.
"People…. too much," Aisha mumbled into her palm. "Radiant powers—I can't…" She winced.
Maybe it was just Phoenix empathizing, but the pulsing of music overhead seemed to intensify, caging them in. Oppressive and pushing, forming an overwhelming chorus with the endless chattering of people and rave lights that made everything a multicolor mess. For a moment, the room full of fun suddenly felt like an inferno.
"There—" Aisha gasped weakly, pointing towards a little door at the back of the club, behind a velvet rope guarded by a bouncer.
He wiped off what blood there was as best he could and hobbled over to the bouncer with Aisha hanging on his shoulder the whole time. The burly dude didn't say much once he saw Muse, simply mumbling acknowledgement and letting them pass into a hallway with half a dozen shut doors.
Once inside a thankfully empty room, likely a VIP lounge judging by the expensive looking couches and lamps that cast only a dim glow, Phoenix sighed with relief at the notable quiet the place offered. The heavy thump of rave music still thrummed through the walls, but it was muted, significantly less oppressive.
Aisha seemed to breathe easier as well, but she was still bleeding. He rushed out to grab a water and some napkins from the bar for a moment and helped clean her up, mumbling whatever reassurances came to mind. She at least seemed somewhat appeased by his words.
Eventually, the bleeding stopped. Phoenix got a text from Killjoy saying ' brb, finding raze .' He let out another sigh of relief when things finally began to settle. At least Aisha seemed to be doing better after a few minutes of sitting back on the couch with her eyes closed.
"Your friends okay?" She croaked, startling Phoenix.
"I think," he said. "They can handle themselves. I wouldn't be too worried."
Aisha hummed, then settled back into quiet.
After a moment, she spoke again. "I'm sorry about all this. I wanted to pay you back but—"
"Hey, c'mon mate, like I said don't sweat it." He shook his head disapprovingly, tutting at her little like an exaggeration of a scolding mother. The corner of her mouth quirked up.
Then, she seemed to think for a moment, before closing her eyes once more. "It's… my powers."
"I figured."
"Oi, let me finish."
He put his hands up in surrender. Even though she couldn't see, she smiled again.
"Healing isn't all they let me do. When I heal I… I can sense people's emotions. Their thoughts and feelings. Sometimes even without healing. Sometimes even against my will."
"So…" Phoenix knit his brow. "The crowd now. And the canceled concert—"
"It's rare but, it's been acting up more lately. This, uh, enhanced sensitivity I guess you'd call it. I used to be able to go to parties no problem, but being in crowds made my powers go haywire. It's been such a long time since I last did this, and I was doing so well at the concert I thought…" Her eyes were open now, half-lidded, staring up at the ceiling in a mix of anger and desperation.
"You're getting more powerful," Phoenix concluded. "But you don't know how to control it. Like a fire, it can go a little wild sometimes if you can't manage the fuel. I learned that the hard way."
With a snap of his fingers, their faces lit up in a flickering orange glow. Aisha gasped and sat up, marveling at the ball of flame hovering over Phoenix's fingers, held up by nothing.
The fire made swirls of silver pool in her hazel eyes, like molten gold. They were so wide and filled with wonder—alive, again, like she'd been back at the concert.
"You're a radiant," she whispered.
"I'm shocked you haven't picked up on it," he shrugged, before extinguishing the flame with a wave. Aisha seemed almost disappointed. "Guess you're not the best at hiding things, huh?"
"Hey! I've hidden my radiance for a long, long time—and I've got back to back performances!"
He looked her up and down. She flushed. "Alright, so it's been getting harder recently."
"Like I said before, training. And, hey, I'm pretty impressed you've gone this long without any help. When I first got my powers I was in college and…" Phoenix winced to himself. Yeah, that was a memory he didn't particularly love to revisit.
Aisha stared at him, sympathy in her eyes. He wondered if her empathic powers let her sense what he was thinking right now.
He coughed. "Anyway, I had training. Got the hang of it. I… For the longest time, all I could do was hurt people. I've found a way to put it to good use, at least. Hurt just the bad guys. But you—you've got something special, Aisha. Not many people can use their radiance to help so, so directly, I guess."
Phoenix paused, looking at his hands, trying to ignore her stare filled with an emotion he didn't want to know. "And I'm not saying it's easier," he continued more quietly. "It sucks to hide. It sucks to be a freak. Being different isn't easy. But sometimes I wish I could heal instead of hurt. Well. A lot of the time, actually."
With a big, deep breath to gather his courage, Phoenix looked up. Aisha was staring at him, as expected, but her jaw was set and any trace of tiredness on her face was gone.
"You saved a life yesterday," she told him, each word weighed with emphasis. "Possibly two. And from what you told me, you've been saving lives for a while. That girl—I'd just left rehearsals for the show when I couldn't take my powers acting up again. Called my manager, called the show quits, and I just ran. I saw her being dragged away by those, those Kingdom agents, into an alley, with her little glowing friends fading away. I knew what she was.
"I pretended I was a relative and pulled her away but, well, yeah you're right when you say I suck at hiding things. It took them a second to see I was clearly not related to her. By looks and how I was acting. I managed to get her to safety but she tripped on that chase, hit her head on the concrete. I needed to use my powers but I was weak enough as it was, and tired, and I was panicking. I tried to lose the agents—that's how I ran into you actually. I knew she knew who I was so I needed to hide my powers, soap and napkins was all I could think of."
Phoenix snickered at that, despite himself. She smacked him lightly with a roll of her eyes.
"Ah, well, you know the rest. The thing is, if it weren't for you, I would have stood no chance against those agents. They'd have killed me, or taken me too. You saved that girl, Phoenix, and you saved me. And not only that, you… you gave me a friend who understands me. I didn't know if other radiants were out there, others I could talk to, much less another who knew how to handle their powers. Your friends, Raze and Killjoy, I take it they know about you?"
Phoenix nodded. He could see the hint of longing in her eyes, and he didn't have much to say to help that.
Aisha smiled at him. "They know about you. I won't ask if they're radiants but, you said you've been trained. There's others out there, like you, and you've found a place to belong."
He stayed quiet again.
"You're lucky in that department."
Now it was his turn to close his eyes. "I can't… say. I can't talk about who— er, what we are. Killjoy would give me hell. But, I did say, I take out bad guys now. It's not easy. Sometimes I feel like the only bond I share with the others is how we risk our lives for every job."
"But you're doing good. So much more good than I am, I bet."
"Hey, don't underestimate your power to save lives. With or without the radiance, you've no idea how many times I put your music on to get through a shitty day."
Ah, Phoenix and his big mouth. He didn't realize how fanatic-like that sounded until he saw her ears turning red. He coughed, again, awkwardly.
"Thanks," Aisha let out a little laugh. "But seriously. The stuff you do, it seems like it really matters. With people you feel like you belong with. Come on, wouldn't you say you've found more of a home with them than among, well, normal people?"
Phoenix thought about partying with Raze and Killjoy. About pulling pranks with Jett. About friendly sparring with Yoru, deep conversations with Sova, being trained by Reyna. And sure, Viper reminded them they were soldiers. Brimstone knowingly sent them on missions they could and would die on. But against all odds, his little group of freaks found a way to care about each other, and make each other smile, and piss each other off and, maybe, selfishly, just to Phoenix—be a family.
When he looked at Muse, at Aisha, he saw a piece that would fit in their perfectly mismatched puzzle.
"Killjoy told me we were just soldiers. We were together because we had nowhere else to go. In a way, she's right. You have a life, money, fans, and influence.You don't have to risk your life to feel comfortable." He took a breath, and looked her in her inquisitive eyes. "But Raze also told me, somehow, we managed to feel like a family anyway. I know what it's like to want to belong. So, here."
With a flick of his wrist, his phone was out with his contact information. His real one, not the dingy burner phone number he'd given her the day before. "And," he said. "It's Jamie, by the way."
Aisha took the phone gingerly in her hands.
"We're leaving tomorrow. But if you feel like you want to get a handle on your powers and maybe, heh, be part of a deadly little support group— you'll know who to call."
"I…. really?" Tears brimmed in Aisha's eyes.
"Really. Consider it thanks for today."
"But today was my thanks for you saving-"
"Ah, ah, ah. Nope. Just save my number."
Aisha rolled her eyes and smacked his shoulder lightly again. "Fine. And thanks, Jamie."
She did as asked, and soon enough, they were in that lounge with new beverages and snacks, talking about everything and nothing, from concerts to anecdotes about the Protocol, and being a popstar, and being a radiant.
Phoenix decided he found a friend he was thankful for. He had a feeling Aisha found one too.
Epilogue
Phoenix wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but apparently, the alcohol and the day’s exhaustion must have caught up to him, as he woke with a start at the sound of his ringtone.
It was quieter now too. The club was strangely silent, and Phoenix was too busy fumbling with his phone to get a proper look at the time. For the few seconds it took for the signal to connect, Phoenix got a good look as Aisha, passed out on the couch next to him, an empty shot glass cradled to her chest like a teddy bear. Heh, at least she had fun.
Then the call connected, and Killjoy was instantly screeching in his ear. “ Phoenix! Where are you?! Have you seen Raze?”
“Ugh, Killjoy, I haven’t—”
“ Oh my god you haven’t seen Raze? You haven’t seen Raze! Scheisse, nononono—!” What followed was a string of German cursing that Phoenix was simply too disoriented to follow. Perhaps Killjoy also sensed his increasing grogginess, still laying on the cough as he was, because then she yelled, “Phoenix, get! Up! I can’t believe you lost Raze!”
“Oi, I’m not your babysitter,” Phoenix grumbled back, yet he sat up. And he also found himself… worried. Looking back, he hadn’t seen Raze for a long while before Aisha got that nosebleed. She didn’t get mugged or something, did she?
“ — going to get your ass right here right now or so help me I will leave you in Berlin and Brimstone will have your ass!” Killjoy was saying—well, screaming—over the phone. She seemed on the verge of tears, and while she did tend to have a streak of nervousness about her at times, her current unusual panic helped to give Phoenix a sudden rush of urgency.
“Something wrong?” Aisha groaned next to him, finally stirring. She glanced at the shot glass she’d been cradling in confusion for a moment before discarding it on the coffee table where her feet rested.
Phoenix wanted to make something up, really. He wanted to tell her not to worry, that it was confidential—well, a member of Valorant being indisposed was technically very confidential information. But the look in her eyes told him that she didn’t need empathy to sense his increasing worry.
“Phoenix,” she said again, more awake this time. “Something’s wrong, isn’t it?”
He nodded, Killjoy still frantic in his ear.
“I… listen, I know I don’t know everything and uh, still can’t,” Aisha said slowly. “But, if I can help— If someone’s in danger, I’d like to help. And maybe, maybe prove to be something worthwhile to your protocol. Your family.”
“Phoenix? Hello?” Killjoy’s tin-can voice filled the silence in the moment Phoenix took to look at Aisha.
Then, “Yeah. Text me where to meet you. I’ve got help on the way.” He ended the call, took a breath, then turned back to the popstar-radiant who now looked at him with anticipation. “You sure you’re up to this? It could be dangerous. And if Brimstone takes notice of you and decides to help- to let you help us in turn… your life’s never gonna be the same, Aisha.”
She smiled, lopsided, relieved. “I’m looking forward to that.”
“Well then,” he stood, and offered her a hand. “We better get going.”