The thick goose-feather snow had finally begun to lighten. In New York, snowfall always arrived in waves. But the wind (sharp and biting) kept slashing at their faces like icy blades.
"A woman shouldn't have hit you this hard, should she?"
Seeing Peter remain silent, Aetheris spoke up.
Peter's body tensed, and his expression twisted into something conflicted.
"I don't know… Lately, everything just feels off. I try to manage my time better, but I'm constantly behind. Last night, I couldn't even shoot my webs. I fell from the sky… my injuries haven't healed."
Aetheris listened quietly before asking,"Why do you want to be Spider-Man? How do you see yourself?"
Peter let out a bitter laugh."That's the thing, I don't even know anymore. I feel completely lost. I can't even handle my own life, yet I'm running around trying to play hero. Pretending to be someone noble."
Aetheris understood. Every superhero had moments of burnout especially when the world didn't know who you really were. Recognition wasn't guaranteed, and criticism was inevitable. Even someone like Michael Jackson had his fair share of haters.
There would always be people jealous of your talent, your wealth, your status and everything.
After thinking for a moment, he said,"If you can't recognize your true self, you'll lose your mind. You'll lose your soul. That's the worst thing losing your identity. Maybe you were never meant to be Spider-Man. Maybe that's why you fell. You have a choice, Peter. Don't put yourself on a pedestal. The world is massive, and no one is truly irreplaceable. It keeps spinning with or without any of us."
Peter stopped walking, reflecting on those words.
"Have I really been taking myself too seriously? Maybe. New York didn't fall apart before I showed up… and it hasn't exactly improved since I did. This city doesn't revolve around anyone."
Aetheris spread his arms and continued,"Human effort has its limits. We can't change much not really. Neither of us is some messianic figure who'll overturn the world and rebuild it. And people… people are complicated. They'll never match your ideal."
"That's why utopias only exist in imagination. But what you can do is bring joy and safety to the ones around you. That's what truly matters."
"Bring joy and safety?" Peter murmured, his gaze drifting toward the distant high-rises, their lights blurred through the falling snow. His eyes gradually lost focus.
He'd had a lot of red wine tonight. His body was still strong, but it wasn't the alcohol that left him reeling, it was the emotional flood finally breaking through.
"Nova, you don't have to pick me up tonight. I'm heading out with our young friend to unwind."
Aetheris quickly called Nova, giving her a simple explanation.
Then he hailed a cab. The driver, a Black man, perked up the moment he saw potential customers. Aetheris half-dragged Peter into the back seat.
"Where to, gentlemen?" the driver asked cheerfully.
"Take us somewhere upscale. Loud music. Beautiful women. A lively place," Aetheris replied casually, handing over a crisp $100 bill.
The driver's eyes gleamed. He kissed the bill."You got it. I'll take good care of you!"
With that, he slammed on the gas. The tires screeched as the cab shot forward, leaving a trail of smoke behind.
Their destination: an underground nightclub in Brooklyn. From the outside, it looked deceptively plain. A few red neon letters flickered against the brick.
"Lady's Treasure?" Peter squinted at the glowing sign. "Didn't Mr. Aetheris say we were going out to have fun? Why does this look like a maternity spa?"
Aetheris nearly tripped. He gave Peter a light smack on the back of the head.
"This, you country bumpkin, is what we call a gentlemen's club."
As they entered, two burly Black bouncers stood at the door. After checking for weapons, they let them pass.
Inside, a wave of heat and music hit them head-on. It was still freezing outside, but in here, the temperature was easily over twenty degrees Celsius. The sudden warmth made Peter start sweating. His drunken haze began to lift.
Over a hundred beams of colored light danced above them in shifting patterns.
The moment they stepped in, the pulse of music, dazzling lights, and sultry dancing overwhelmed their senses. Peter's eyes widened as he tried to take it all in.
He was over twenty years old and he'd never experienced anything like this.
Aetheris pulled him to the bar and ordered two cocktails. Peter clutched his glass like a lifeline, unsure what to do with his hands, clearly overwhelmed by the atmosphere.
Then Aetheris pulled out a thick wad of cash and smacked it onto the bar.
"Whoever can take my young friend here to the peak of manhood tonight, this stack is yours!"
The bartender's eyes gleamed. That pile had at least four or five grand more than a month's paycheck. He wasted no time sending a message to the club's internal group chat.
"Ladies, we've got a high-roller duo. Time to shine and earn your bonus!"
Less than five minutes later, two long-legged Western beauties slipped out from the dance floor. Their outfits left little to the imagination. One of their skirts barely reached mid-thigh.
One of the women sat next to Aetheris and confidently crossed her legs.
Peter's senses went into overdrive, making him even more flustered. His face flushed a deep red. One of the women began teasing him, calling him handsome as she slowly ran her hand across her own blouse. He froze like a spell had been cast on him.
"Still a virgin, huh?" she said, her tongue slowly running along her lips in a suggestive circle.
But Aetheris was unmoved. Women like her no longer appealed to him not because they weren't attractive, but because he had long since moved beyond such surface-level thrills.
He had a gorgeous Asian maid at home, a lover with the grace of Sophie Marceau, an adorable secretary… altogether, he had six women in rotation.
He could switch partners weekly without repeats and still take weekends off.
Still, he gently reached over and brushed the woman's arm. Her skin was soft, supple. She couldn't have been older than twenty-five.
(End of Chapter)
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