Gene's piercing green eyes are fixed on me like laser beams, drilling straight into my skull. The living room couch feels like it's swallowing me whole as he sits across from me, his perfect posture making me feel like even more of a slob. His long auburn hair is tied back in a neat ponytail, not a single strand out of place.
The silence stretches on for what feels like hours, broken only by the occasional sound of Xorna shifting her massive helmet in the corner where she insisted on watching. Mystique's pacing by the window isn't helping my nerves either.
Finally, Gene sighs dramatically, like I've personally wasted his entire life.
"I can't believe I drove two hours in traffic for this," he says, his voice dripping with that special brand of condescension only he can manage.
My heart sinks. "How bad is it?"
Gene's eyebrow arches as he stares at me like I'm the world's biggest disappointment. "There's nothing here, Jack."
"What?" I blink, trying to process his words. "That can't be right."
"All I'm seeing is that she gripped you mentally," he explains with exaggerated patience, like he's talking to a particularly slow child. "She never inserted anything. No compulsions, no triggers, nothing."
"But what about that mansion when I fell madly in love with her?" The words tumble out before I can stop them. "She showed me what she could do. I felt it."
Gene tries not to laugh, his lips twitching with barely contained amusement. "All I'm saying is she didn't leave anything behind or plant anything in your head. Nothing as invasive as what you're suggesting." He crosses his legs, his designer jeans making a soft swishing sound against the leather couch.
"And on another note Jack, I'm starting to get a little scared for you."
"Scared for me?" I frown, not sure I heard him correctly. "Why?"
Gene gestures vaguely around the apartment. "This whole... situation you've gotten yourself into. Living here with all these women who are clearly using you as some kind of communal boy toy."
"That's not…" I start, but he cuts me off with a dismissive wave.
"Please. Mystique over there looking like she's ready to pounce the second I leave." His eyes flick to her, then back to me. "Magik, who I know for a fact has had you in her bed. And now this new one with the helmet who follows you around like a lost puppy." He lowers his voice to a theatrical whisper. "It's like you're running some kind of reverse harem anime, and honey, it's not a good look."
My face burns hot. I can feel Mystique's yellow eyes boring into the side of my head, but I refuse to look at her.
"That's not what's happening here," I mutter, even as part of me wonders if he's right.
Gene lets out a laugh that sounds like wind chimes but cuts like glass. "Oh please. I can read surface thoughts, remember? The things they're thinking about you right now would make a porn star blush. Even Firestar" He taps his temple.
"Don't tell him that!" Firestar's voice cuts through the room as she practically materializes from around the corner, her face already turning scarlet. She must have been hiding there, listening to everything.
Gene's perfect eyebrow arches even higher. "Well, well. The eavesdropper appears."
I glance between them. "Firestar, it's fine," I say with a shrug. "I already figured you were just too scared to ask me to hook up."
Her blush deepens to a shade that rivals her hair, which is now literally smoking at the tips. "That's not…" she sputters, looking like she might spontaneously combust.
I turn back to Gene, suddenly needing to know something more important. "Wait, are you telling me I'm actually in love with Emma Frost?"
Gene's emerald eyes study me with clinical detachment. "What I saw in your head was a complete disaster area. Confusion, obsession, lust, and some seriously deep-seated anger. You have a lot to work out." He pauses for a moment. "But yeah, maybe you are."
My stomach drops like I'm in free-fall. Mystique immediately steps forward.
"I'm sure there's some way Emma Frost could have hidden something in his head," she says, not bothering to hide the jealousy in her voice. "Something you can't detect."
Gene rolls his eyes so dramatically I'm surprised they don't fall out of his head. "Maybe," he concedes reluctantly. "But I saw how she touched Jack's mind. It's not what you're thinking. She... cradled it. Like something precious."
I stare at Gene, his words hitting me like a sucker punch.
Gene studies my reaction, then lets out another theatrical sigh. "Look, I would normally never in a million years recommend that someone date Emma Frost because, like... eww." He shudders delicately. "But honestly, Jack? This whole 'I just want casual sex with no strings' thing you keep telling yourself?" He gestures around at Mystique, Firestar, and in the direction Magik stormed off. "It's making you worse. You're more confused than ever."
I open my mouth to protest, but Gene raises one hand to silence me.
"I think you'd just be better off with Emma, honestly," he adds.
"Are you fucking insane?" Mystique snarls, lunging forward so suddenly that Gene actually flinches. Her yellow eyes are practically glowing with rage. "Emma Frost would destroy him! She'd remake him into whatever pet she wants!"
Gene cuts off Mystique with a wave of his hand, looking more annoyed than intimidated by her outburst.
"Look, I've scanned his mind thoroughly," he says, tapping his temple. "Emma's definitely crossed boundaries with Jack, no question about that. But from what I can see, she seems to be genuinely trying to help him in her own way."
He stands up, smoothing out his designer jeans like our whole conversation has been nothing but a minor inconvenience in his perfect day.
"That's just my two cents though," he adds with a shrug. "I don't care what you do either way. Just..." he pauses, fixing me with those piercing green eyes, "stay away from Scotty."
I nod, not sure what else to say.
"Thanks for coming," I say instead, getting to my feet.
"Anytime," Gene replies with a casual wave, already heading for the door. The way he says it makes it clear he hopes there won't be an "anytime" anytime soon.
As the door clicks shut behind him, the apartment falls into an uncomfortable silence. Mystique's still glaring daggers at where Gene was sitting, like she could set the couch on fire with her eyes if she tried hard enough.
I feel like I'm standing at the edge of a cliff. Everyone's staring at me like I'm a bomb about to go off, and honestly, that's exactly how I feel.
Before I can gather my thoughts, the couch dips beside me. Xorna's massive helmet turns my way, the blue eye-slits glowing softly as she settles her imposing frame next to mine.
"Jack," she says, her metallic voice somehow gentler than usual, "if you date the Frost woman, does that mean I will have to remain a virgin forever?"
I blink rapidly, trying to process what she just asked me. Firestar makes a choking sound from across the room.
"REALLY?" Mystique throws her hands up, her eyes practically bulging. "That's your takeaway from all this?"
I press my palms against my eyes, feeling a headache building behind them. This is too much. All of it. Gene's words, Emma's influence, the weird dynamic in this apartment that I've been pretending isn't completely fucked up.
"Xorna," I sigh, dropping my hands to look at her directly, "I think I'm probably not going to have sex with anyone in this house anymore. This whole situation is getting way too complicated."
A multitude of emotions flash across Mystique's blue face, panic, anger, determination. Before I can react, she's across the room, her fingers wrapping around my wrist like a vise as she yanks me to my feet.
"We need to talk," she growls, already dragging me toward my bedroom. "Now."
I stumble after her, too shocked to resist as she pulls me through the doorway and slams the door behind us with enough force to rattle the walls.
The second the door closes behind us, Mystique whirls on me, her blazing like twin suns. Her blue skin seems to ripple with tension as she backs me against the wall.
"Look, here's the deal," she says, jabbing a finger into my chest. "Emma Frost is a bad match for you. She's manipulative, controlling, and she'll reshape you into whatever she wants."
"Stop," I say, holding up my hands. I've had enough people telling me what to do and who to be with today.
"No, you listen to me," she hisses, stepping closer until I can feel her breath on my face. "You and I, we are meant to be together, Jack."
"What?"
"I love you." The declaration hangs in the air between us, her face transforming before my eyes. Her usual cool composure cracks, something wild and desperate breaking through. Her eyes widen, her lips tremble, and for a second she looks almost... unhinged.
"Whoa, whoa," I stammer, trying to create distance between us. "We were just hooking up, Mystique. That's all this was."
"You heal," she says, like this explains everything.
"Okay?" I have no idea where she's going with this.
"I heal too," she continues, her voice dropping lower. "Slower than you, but I do."
"Alright?"
"I've lived for centuries because of that, Jack."
"What?"
"You're going to live a long life," she says, her eyes never leaving mine. "A very long life."
"No…"
Without warning, she shoves me backward. I fall onto my bed, and before I can react, she's on top of me, pinning my wrists above my head with strength far surpassing my own. Her weight settles on my chest, holding me down.
Instantly, I'm eight years old again, my mother's face contorted with rage as she pins me to the floor, her hand raised to strike. The memory hits me like a physical blow, and panic floods my system.
"Get off of me," I gasp, my heart hammering against my ribs.
Her yellow eyes bore into mine with an intensity that's almost manic.
"Stop fighting me," she whispers, her face inches from mine. "You don't understand what I'm offering you."
"I understand you need to get the fuck off me!" I snarl, thrashing harder against her grip.
She shakes her head, something desperate and sad flashing across her blue features. "Anyone else you try to be with will die, Jack. Don't you get it? They'll age and wither while you stay young. I've watched it happen to everyone I've ever loved. Over and over and over again."
Her voice cracks on the last word, and I see something I never expected from her, tears gathering in those yellow eyes.
"It breaks you," she continues, her grip loosening slightly as emotion overtakes her. "Watching everyone you care about turn to dust while you just... keep going. Decade after decade, century after century."
I push against her hands again. "LET GO OF ME!"
"I'm offering you a way out!" Her voice rises, almost hysterical now. "Don't you understand? I'm trying to save you from the pain I've felt! We don't have to be lonely. We can just be together."
Her voice is thick with desperation, but all I can focus on is getting free from under her. "We barely know each other," I snap.
"We have all the time in the world to get to know one another," she says, her eyes searching mine for any sign of understanding. "Centuries, Jack. We have centuries."
The bedroom door flies open with a bang, the sound making both of us freeze. Firestar stands in the doorway, her copper-red hair fully ignited in a blazing corona around her head. The flames cast wild shadows across her face, making her look like some avenging angel.
"I heard struggling," she says, her voice deadly calm despite the inferno raging around her head. Her eyes widen as she takes in the scene. Mystique straddling me, pinning my wrists above my head. "Get. Off. Him." Each word is punctuated by a flare of her flames, the temperature in the room skyrocketing.
Mystique's weight lifts from my chest as she rises slowly, her hands raised in surrender though her eyes flash with pure annoyance. "This doesn't concern you," she says coldly.
I scramble backward on the bed, putting as much distance between myself and Mystique as possible. My heart's still hammering in my chest, panic ebbing only slightly now that I'm free from her grip.
"He'll never love you, you know," Mystique says to Firestar, her voice dripping with disdain. "Not the way you want him to."
Firestar doesn't even flinch. The flames around her head burn brighter, licking at the ceiling now. "He's still my friend," she says simply.
I stare at them both, horrified by what's happening. Mystique's words echo in my head, centuries. We have centuries, and a chill runs down my spine despite the heat Firestar's generating.
"Get out," Firestar says, her voice still eerily calm.
Mystique's blue skin seems to shimmer with anger. "That's not your call," she spits.
"It is now." Firestar takes a step forward, flames dancing between her fingertips. "Get out. And don't come back." Her eyes narrow, the amber in them almost glowing with inner light. "You are no longer welcome in X-Factor."
For a moment, I think Mystique might attack her. Her body tenses, coiling like a spring ready to release. But instead, she lets out a harsh laugh that contains no humor whatsoever.
Mystique strides toward the door, her yellow eyes never leaving mine as she brushes past Firestar like she's nothing more than an inconvenience.
"I'm not done with you, Jack," she says, her voice a dangerous purr despite everything that just happened.
"Just leave me alone," I manage to get out, my voice shakier than I want it to be.
She pauses in the doorway. "No."
And then she's gone, her footsteps echoing down the hallway until I hear the front door slam with enough force to rattle the pictures on my wall.
The silence she leaves behind feels heavier than her weight on my chest did. My heart's still racing, hands trembling as I press them against my face. Something dark and ugly is clawing its way up from my gut, a familiar rage that burns through my veins like acid.
I want to break something. To hit someone. To make someone else hurt as much as I'm hurting right now.
The realization hits me like a punch to gut, this feeling, this violent urge to lash out... it's exactly what my mother used to do. When she'd pin me down just like Mystique did, when she'd beat me until I could barely breathe, and then later, take her fury out on everything else around her.
Am I becoming her?
The thought makes me sick. I collapse back onto my bed.
"Are you okay?" Firestar asks softly from the doorway, the flames around her hair dimming to a gentle glow.
"No," I whisper, not looking at her. I can't bear to see pity in her eyes right now.
She takes a hesitant step into the room. "Can I…"
"No," I cut her off, shaking my head. "Thanks for helping me, but I just want to be alone right now."
She hovers for a moment longer. "I'll be right outside if you need me."