Beneath the stage, the hum of amps and stomping feet overhead vibrated through the narrow crawlspace.
Cindy ducked low, crawling ahead of Peter and Miles.
The shadows were thick here, denser than they should have been for a normal concert setup.
Cindy paused. Her Spider-Sense buzzed like a slow, steady drumbeat.
"Okay," she whispered, glancing back, "does this place feel weird to you guys, or am I just extra paranoid?"
Peter crouched behind her, inspecting a panel of glowing wires hooked into an old-looking projector hidden behind a wall of speakers.
"It's not just you. Someone piggybacked their own gear onto the stage rig. I'm betting it's not Luna's tech team."
Miles tilted his head, looking at an old, oddly dusty fog machine that hummed with faint green light. "What kind of fog machine needs a hard drive?"
Cindy muttered, "The kind that makes illusions."
A sharp hiss filled the air.
A projector flickered to life against the scaffolding, casting a shimmering mirage of Luna Snow mid-performance, except this one flickered, distorted, and occasionally glitched into someone else entirely.
A man in a swirling cape and domed helmet.
"...Mysterio," Peter groaned. "Of course it's Mysterio."
The illusion distorted again, and a pre-recorded voice echoed from a speaker buried in the wall:
"Ladies and gentlemen! Prepare yourselves for the real main act, The Grand Illusionist! The Maestro of Mind Tricks! The Phantom of Fame!"
"...Mysterio."
A puff of theatrical smoke released from a nearby vent and failed miserably to create drama in the cramped crawlspace.
Cindy blinked, deadpan. "This guy needs therapy."
"Or a better agent," Peter muttered.
Miles peeked behind a curtain of cables. "So what, he hacked the stage to... what? Project fake glitches and steal Luna's spotlight?"
"Pretty much," Cindy said. "Classic attention-starved illusionist stunt."
She yanked a power cord from one of the projectors. Sparks flew. The illusion wobbled, then fizzled out like an old VHS tape.
Peter sighed in relief. "Good thing it's this kind of weird and not 'reality-bending monster from beyond the void' weird."
They climbed out just as Luna's next song kicked in, uninterrupted now, her voice soaring across the cheering crowd.
Backstage, Cindy pulled out her phone and texted Gwen.
Silk: Mysterio was messing with the show. Fixed it. Don't worry, nothing multiversal. Just... theater kid with a fog machine😒.
A few seconds later:
Gwen 🕷️: good. say hi to the dude for me, i heard he's more of a pranker lately, glad he changed. Oh and, Saitama just asked if he can leave after two songs 😑
Silk: tell him there's free food after. he'll stay.
Peter nudged Cindy with a grin. "Saving concerts from B-list villains. Just another night."
Cindy smiled, looking up toward the lights. "Yeah. I'll take this over apocalypses."
The trio emerged from the under-stage crawlspace just as Luna Snow hit the high note of her next track, the crowd roaring in response.
The glitch was gone, the energy was restored, and everything on the surface seemed back to normal.
Peter wiped some dust off his suit, pulling out his phone to check messages.
Then he froze.
His face turned a deep red, almost cartoonish, as his eyes scanned a very specific text.
Cindy, catching the look, raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What's got you blushing like a teenager at their first dance?"
Peter stammered, quickly locking the screen. "N-Nothing! Just...just MJ saying she's, uh...waiting for me. That's all."
"Ohhh," Cindy said with a slow grin, leaning on one hip. "Waiting, huh? Poor girl's probably dressed up and everything while you're down here wrestling a normal dude with illusions."
Peter coughed, flustered. "I-I was saving a concert!"
"Sure, hero. Go before she starts texting me to get your butt moving."
Miles's phone buzzed too. He smiled faintly, showing the screen without a word.
Cindy read the name: Hailey.
"Aww, look at you both. Lady Spiders calling you home."
Miles gave a sheepish chuckle. "Gotta go. She saved me a churro."
"Run, lover boy."
Miles took off through the crowd, slipping through people like wind. Peter followed a second later, still mumbling excuses to himself as he vanished into the sea of fans.
Cindy watched them go with a small smile, then turned her head toward the other side of the venue.
In the middle of the crowd, unmistakable even from here, was Gwen, standing beside the ever-bored Saitama, who looked like a dad dragged to prom night.
Gwen was waving her arms, clearly trying to get Cindy's attention.
She sighed with a fond shake of her head.
"Well. Third wheel it is."
She stretched her arms and walked off into the crowd, muttering, "Someone's gotta make sure cue-ball doesn't fall asleep in the middle of a power ballad."
...
The fan meet was held behind the stage, in a softly lit lounge full of sleek chairs, bottled water, and an awkward amount of security trying to act casual.
Dozens of VIP ticket holders filtered through the line, receiving signed photos, hugs, and selfies with Luna Snow, still glistening with post-performance energy and her usual radiant charm.
Cindy Moon, however, was not like the other fans.
"Okay okay okay! how do I look? I don't look sweaty, right? Gwen, do I look sweaty?" Cindy spun around Gwen like a caffeinated cyclone, clutching her signed poster like a priceless relic.
"You look like you just ran through a K-pop fever dream," Gwen said flatly, arms crossed and smirking.
"I met her eyes during the third song. I'm not saying she noticed me specifically, but there was a connection, Gwen! It was real!"
"You screamed her name so loud the security guy flinched."
"I WAS BEING ENTHUSIASTIC."
...
"MY GOAT! PLEASE STEP ON ME!!!"
...
"Are you sure?"
"...Yeah! Enthusiasm!"
Across the room, Saitama stood beside a table, staring at a snack tray like it had just insulted him.
His expression was a mix of blank exhaustion and that mild hunger that made you question whether you should eat or just go home and sleep.
"...There's no takoyaki," he muttered.
Gwen joined him, nudging his shoulder. "You know, it was nice of her to invite us back here."
"She invited everyone," he said, tone dry as toast.
"But you're here. That counts for something."
"I'm here because someone promised there would be food." He glanced at Cindy. "Still not food."
Then Luna Snow entered the room, shimmering even in casual clothes, a silver jacket thrown over her shoulders, hair tied back, a sheen of sweat still on her forehead from the high-energy performance.
She beamed as she walked in, and the fans reacted with gasps and camera flashes.
Cindy nearly dropped dead.
"OH MY GOD IT'S HER SHE'S IN THIS ROOM RIGHT NOW—" she whisper-yelled, gripping Gwen's arm in a death hold.
"Breathe" Gwen said, lightly pushing her forward. "You got this."
"Gweeeeeeen! I'm breathing the same air as heeeeeer!!! I'm gonna faint!"
Luna made her way down the line, chatting kindly, answering questions, handing out personalized messages.
She eventually approached them.
"Hi! I saw you during the concert, you were really into it!" Luna said with a warm smile, recognizing Cindy immediately.
Cindy squeaked. "I... ME? I mean, I WAS, but also, not in a weird way, just, you're AMAZING and I LOVE your ice transitions in Burn the Night and I have, like, three different versions of your tour album and—"
Gwen leaned over. "Sorry. She's malfunctioning."
Luna laughed. "That's adorable. You're sweet. Thank you."
She took Cindy's hands and signed her CD with a personal message, writing a small snowflake symbol under her name.
Cindy looked like she was about to cry.
"Can I hug you?" she asked in a breath.
"Of course" Luna said with a smile, giving her a warm, gentle hug.
Gwen snapped a photo with her phone while Cindy practically levitated.
And then, Luna's eyes turned to Saitama, who is munching on a burger the security gave him.
He was standing off to the side, arms folded, still eyeing the food table like it owed him money.
"...Hi?" Luna tried.
Saitama gave a polite nod. "Yo."
There was a pause.
Luna blinked. "I didn't see you in the crowd."
"I was there. Middle row. Third section. Kinda loud."
"You didn't enjoy it?"
"Loud" he repeated, then shrugged. "It was fine."
Another pause.
Gwen and Cindy exchanged glances behind her. Oh no, Cindy mouthed.
"I, uh... I noticed you weren't really clapping," Luna said carefully.
"I was hungry."
"Oh."
Silence.
Luna tried again. "Do you...listen to music much?"
Saitama looked genuinely thoughtful for a moment. "Sometimes. I've got that one theme song that plays when I fight people."
Cindy muttered, "Oh my god... he's cooked..."
"Theme... song?" Luna asked.
"Yeah. It's loud too."
There was another moment of awkward silence, until Luna laughed. Genuinely.
"You're... not like most fans," she said.
Saitama blinked. "I'm not a fan."
Cindy slapped a hand to her face.
Gwen looked mildly entertained.
Luna tilted her head. "Then why are you here?"
He gestured lazily toward Cindy an Gwen. "They dragged me."
Cindy waved awkwardly. "I'm the fangirl. He's the... food-seeker."
"I'm just waiting until I can leave and get something fried" Saitama said.
Luna giggled again, oddly charmed. "Well... I guess I appreciate the honesty."
He shrugged again. "You were good. Just not my thing."
That somehow made Luna smile wider. "You're kind of refreshing, actually."
She reached into her pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper.
"Here," she said, handing it to him. "My number. Just in case you ever want to chill... or complain about loud music again."
Saitama stared at it blankly. "Thanks."
He held it awkwardly for a second, then looked around, distracted by someone finally bringing in a plate of skewers from a back room.
"Oh!" he said, walking off toward them.
He left the paper on the edge of the table.
Luna watched him go, then looked down and saw the paper still sitting there.
She chuckled, shaking her head.
"Well. That checks out."
She folded the paper again and tucked it into her own pocket.
...
Outside the venue, the neon lights buzzed quietly in the warm night air.
The concert crowd had long dispersed, leaving only the trio on the sidewalk, Gwen, Cindy, and Saitama, each holding a paper tray of fried skewers from a late-night stall.
"Worth the wait?" Gwen asked.
Saitama was already halfway through his third skewer. "Hell yeah."
"I still can't believe you told Luna Snow you weren't a fan" Cindy groaned, lightly bumping him. "Do you realize how many people would sell their kidneys for five minutes with her?"
"She seemed chill," Saitama said casually. "Didn't mind talking."
"She gave you her number."
He blinked. "Oh. Where'd I put that?"
Cindy and Gwen exchanged looks.
"You left it at the table," Gwen said.
Saitama took another bite. "Oops."
Back inside the venue, Luna finished changing and preparing to leave.
As she reached for her jacket, she felt something crinkle in the pocket, the paper she had given Saitama.
She smiled down at it, shook her head, and softly laughed.
"Definitely not a fan" she said to herself.
But somehow, that made it a little better.