[Midtown High – Locker Hallway]
Queens, New York City
May 29, 2015
Friday, 7:44 a.m.
Peter: (fumbling with locker, tired) Finally... got this stupid thing open.
Riley: (softly, glancing up, shy) Betty bailed again.
Peter: (teasing, smirking) Figures. She's got more excuses than a bad lawyer.
Riley: (looking down, nervous smile) Yeah... I guess she's got stuff to do. Probably some last-minute drama.
Peter: (chuckling) Typical Betty.
They share a brief smile, the morning sun filtering softly through the hallway windows.
Suddenly, Ned hurries around the corner, slightly out of breath.
Ned: Guys! Sorry, sorry, the bus was a nightmare. Some genius decided closing 3rd Avenue was a great idea.
Peter: (dry, raising an eyebrow) Late, as usual.
Riley: (smiling softly, hiding nerves) With all those "geniuses" around, you'd think someone could figure out how to get here on time.
Ned: (grinning) Funny, coming from the 'always late' duo.
Peter slams his locker shut a bit too hard, shaking his head.
Peter: (half-joking, mock offense) At least I'm not glued to my phone like a zombie every second.
Riley: (shrugging, cheeks tinged pink) Better than spacing out like you do, Mr. Genius.
Ned: (laughing) Alright, enough bickering. What's the plan today? Survive another thrilling Friday?
Peter: (pretending to be serious) Ace all the classes, dodge detention, and somehow get Mr. Connors off our backs about that biology quiz we totally didn't study for.
Riley: (laughing quietly, brushing hair behind ear) Yeah, you're a real expert at "studying."
Peter shoots Riley a warm, encouraging glance.
Peter: (softly, teasing) Hey, I work better under pressure.
Ned: (smirking) Just like Tony Stark, huh?
Riley: (quiet, inspired, eyes brightening) I mean... Stark's tech is incredible. Sometimes I wish I could build stuff like that.
Peter: (laughing softly) Did you see his new suit? If I had that, I'd never have to worry about being late again.
Ned: (groaning) Fanboy alert!
Riley: (nudging Peter shyly) Maybe then you'd actually stay awake in class.
Peter: (smirking, playful) Just conserving energy to save the world, no big deal.
Riley: (soft smile, teasing) You're impossible.
The bell rings sharply, echoing through the hall.
Peter: (throwing an arm around both, energized) Alright, team. Time to survive the last day of the week.
Ned: (grinning) And then we party like it's the weekend already.
Riley: (shy but genuine, a small laugh) Definitely.
They walk off together down the hallway, Riley stealing shy glances at Peter, the comfortable silence filled with unspoken thoughts.
---
[Vulture's Lair – Upper Level Office]
Staten Island, New York City
May 29, (2015)
Friday, 7:46 a.m.
The room hums with the soft buzz of salvaged StarkTech wiring. Schematics flicker across a cracked monitor. A model of the S.C.D.—the Superior Cloning Device—spins slowly in 3D holograph mode above the cluttered desk. Tools are scattered, the smell of burnt circuits clings to the air.
Max Green stands in front of the display, sleeves rolled up, oil stains on his hands, his eyes sharp behind dark-rimmed glasses. His jaw is tense.
Across the room, Adrian leans against a steel cabinet, helmet resting under his arm. The faint sound of wind rustling through broken window panes fills the quiet gaps between their words.
---
Max: (focused, quiet)
"The machine's nearly there. The S.C.D. will be ready... early 2017, if the parts keep coming."
Adrian: (dry)
"Provided we don't blow ourselves up first."
Max: (smirks briefly, then serious)
"But that's just phase one. The real goal... is 2018."
(He turns, tapping the edge of the table for emphasis.)
Max: (low, deliberate)
"In 2018, I'll have perfected a super-enhanced clone of Steve Rogers. Stronger. Smarter. Pure."
Adrian: (raising an eyebrow)
"And for that... you need the S³ serum again, don't you?"
Max: (nods, darkly)
"Stark had more than one vial. I know he did. He archives everything. Weapons. Blood samples. Mistakes. It's all locked inside Avengers Tower."
Adrian: (crosses arms)
"So what? You walk in and ask nicely?"
Max: (smirks coldly)
"I wait for a distraction. The next global crisis. A battle. A war. While the Avengers are busy saving the world again… I slip in."
(He steps closer, voice low but intense.)
Max:
"I pose as maintenance. You too. Janitor badges, forged IDs. While I head to the lower vaults, you infiltrate upper floors. Copy tech, suit schematics, weapons data. Gear. Everything Stark thinks is safe."
Adrian: (nods slowly, eyes narrowing)
"You really think you can fool their security?"
Max:
"I don't think—I know. I've studied his systems. All I need is a window."
(He turns back to the screen, where S.C.D. calculations scroll rapidly.)
Max:
"And once I have the serum… once the machine is perfected… I'll do what Stark never could. I'll make the ultimate weapon in a human body."
Adrian: (quietly, firm)
"We do this for our families, Max. Stark doesn't get to walk free after the messes he's made."
Max: (nods, eyes burning with quiet fury)
"We bring them down, Adrian. One vault, one blueprint at a time."
(He reaches into a drawer and pulls out a file with a name scribbled in red ink across the front: Project: Sinister Six Protocol.)
Max: (holding it up)
"This is just the beginning."
(They clasp hands firmly—partners not just in crime, but in revenge.)
---
[Midtown High – Hallway by Lockers]
Brooklyn, New York City
May 29, (2015)
Friday, 7:52 a.m.
The morning rush buzzes through the corridor—students chatting, lockers slamming, papers rustling. Fluorescent lights flicker slightly above, and the low echo of sneakers squeaking on polished floors mixes with the muffled announcements from the P.A. system.
Peter fumbles with his locker, shoving in his chemistry book, hoodie sleeve rolled up halfway. His hair's a little messy—classic Parker chaos. Just down the hall, Riley Green rounds the corner, hugging her sketchpad to her chest. Her black Converse squeak slightly with each step.
Ned walks up beside Peter, holding a half-eaten Pop-Tart and nudging him.
---
Ned: (mouth half-full)
"Pete… she's coming. Again."
Peter: (without turning)
"I know. I can feel the... terror in my stomach already."
Ned: (grinning)
"Dude, just say anything. Ask her about... her project. Or Stark. Or oxygen molecules. I don't know—something!"
Peter: (glancing nervously down the hallway)
"I can't just walk up and be like, 'Hey Riley, nice backpack. I also have a spine that forgets how to work when you're around.'"
Ned: (deadpan)
"That's... actually kinda charming. But maybe skip the spine part."
(Peter shuts his locker a bit too hard and straightens up just as Riley walks closer. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, glancing up briefly, then back down.
---
Riley: (softly, shy)
"Hey, Peter… morning."
Peter: (freezing, then blinking rapidly)
Peter: (awkward smile)
"Hey, Riley. Uh—nice sketchpad. Not that I've seen it. But I mean—I'm guessing it's... full of amazing stuff?"
Riley: (smiling, a little flustered)
"Um… yeah. I was sketching that Stark drone we saw in class last week. I've been trying to understand the repulsor alignment."
Peter: (suddenly more confident)
Peter:
"That's... that's cool. I actually tried to recreate the rotation pattern in that old Stark AR app. It didn't go great, but I almost shorted my tablet. Totally worth it."
Riley: (giggling softly)
"Sounds like something I'd do."
(She smiles a little longer than usual. Then looks down again quickly.)
Ned: (leaning in, stage-whispering behind Peter's shoulder)
"Pete. You. Are. Winning."
(Peter coughs and steps aside nervously as Riley opens her locker next to his.)
Peter:
Peter: (fidgeting)
"So… you, uh, working on anything else? I mean, besides Stark tech?"
Riley: (nodding)
"My dad's got a few old blueprints from his lab. He lets me peek sometimes. It's... inspiring, I guess."
Peter:
Peter: (sincere)
"That's... awesome. I think it's really cool that you're into that stuff."
Riley: (looking at him, softly)
"Thanks, Peter. I… think it's cool you're into it too."
(A beat of silence. Not awkward. Just quiet.)
Ned: (breaking it, mock-casual)
"So… are we pretending this isn't totally the beginning of a tech-nerd love story or...?"
(Peter glares at him. Riley chuckles.)
Riley: (smiling)
"I should get to class. See you guys later."
(She walks off slowly, peeking back once before disappearing down the hall.)
Peter: (watching her go)
Peter:
"...I think I just malfunctioned."
Ned: (grinning wide)
"Peter. Parker. Has. Game."
---
[Midtown High – Main Hall, Lockers Row]
Brooklyn, New York
May 29, (2015)
Friday, 7:56 a.m.
Peter stood at his locker, spinning the dial of his rusty combo lock. The morning rush echoed through the halls, students slamming lockers, catching up, and some still trying to finish homework on the go.
Ned (grinning):
(leans against the locker next to him)
Ned: "Dude. You gonna say something to her today, or what?"
Peter (nervous chuckle):
Peter: "Say what? 'Hi Riley, I noticed your sketchbook and now I'm in love'?"
Ned: (snorts)
"Bro, it's been a week and you still haven't even sat next to her in Spanish."
Across the hall, Riley Green stood quietly by her locker, adjusting the strap on her backpack. She glanced toward Peter—but quickly looked away the moment he caught her. Her fingers nervously fidgeted with a Stark Industries keychain clipped to her bag.
Peter (quietly):
Peter: "She has that Stark keychain again. Think she's a fan?"
Ned: (mock gasp)
"Tony Stark? What a coincidence. Maybe you two should—oh, I don't know—build an arc reactor together."
Peter: (dry)
"Thanks, Ned. Super helpful."
---
[1st Period – Algebra I]
Room 104 – Mr. Kim's Class
8:07 a.m.
Peter slumped into his seat by the window. Riley came in a moment later, her sneakers squeaking softly against the floor. She sat two desks to his left. Close... but not close enough to start a conversation naturally. She kept her head down, opening a clean notebook and neatly arranging her pens.
Mr. Kim entered and began scribbling quadratic equations on the board.
Mr. Kim:
"All right, everyone. Pop quiz. No groaning. It's a Friday gift."
Peter: (to himself)
Peter: "Some gift..."
He snuck a glance at Riley. Her brow furrowed with concentration as she started writing. He smiled. She looked... focused. Smart.
Ned (behind him, whispering):
"Are you staring at the quiz or Riley?"
Peter (whispering back):
"Shut up."
---
[3rd Period – Biology]
Room 203 – Dr. Connors' Class
9:45 a.m.
Dr. Connors adjusted his tie as he wrote "CELL DIVISION" on the chalkboard.
Dr. Connors:
"We're starting mitosis today. Try not to fall asleep, people—this will be on the midterm."
Peter, Riley, and about twenty others opened their books. The air smelled of old textbooks and faint lemon-scented cleaner. Riley was only one seat away now, diagonal from Peter. Close enough to talk. Maybe.
Peter (in his head):
"Okay. You got this. Just say something simple. Like... 'Mitosis sucks', or... no, too negative. Say she has nice—"
Riley (quietly, to herself):
(frustrated, pencil snapping)
"Ugh... I hate this diagram."
Peter looked over, catching her expression.
Peter: (softly)
Peter: "You want help?"
Riley turned to him slowly, blinking.
Riley (shyly):
(small smile)
"Uh… sure. Yeah. That'd be nice."
Their eyes met. For just a second. And Peter's heart did that stupid thud-thud thing.
---
[Lunch – Cafeteria]
12:02 p.m.
The place buzzed with chatter. Students scrambled for seats, food trays in hand. Peter and Ned sat at their usual spot—corner table by the vending machines.
Riley entered with her tray and looked around. She spotted them.
Ned (mouth full):
"Pete, this is it. Invite her. Now."
Peter (mumbling):
Peter: "Dude, what if she says no—"
Ned: "Worst case, you die of embarrassment. Worth it."
Peter: (standing up nervously)
Peter: "Hey, Riley! Wanna sit with us?"
Riley (caught off guard, pauses... then smiles):
(softly)
"Okay. Sure."
She sat across from Peter, her cheeks slightly red.
Ned (low whisper to Peter):
"She said sure, bro. We're making progress."
Riley (looking down at her sandwich):
(quietly)
"I like your Iron-Man notebook, by the way."
Peter (blinks):
Peter: "Wait—how did you—uh, thanks. It's... I just love Iron Man and know alot bout his suits and just sketch some."
She smiled.
Riley: (smiling gently)
"You draw really well."
Peter stared for a moment.
Peter: (softly)
Peter: "You noticed that?"
---
[7th Period – Spanish I]
Room 112 – Señor Diaz's Class
1:47 p.m.
Peter, Ned, and Riley all sat in the same row. Today's lesson was basic introductions in Spanish.
Señor Diaz:
"Turn to your partner and ask them where they're from and what they like to do."
Peter turned to Riley. Ned paired with a random kid behind him.
Peter: (nervous smile)
Peter: "¿De dónde eres?"
Riley: (blushes, but answers softly)
"Soy de Brooklyn... me gusta... uh... inventar cosas."
Peter blinked.
Peter: (smiling now)
Peter: "Like... Stark-level inventing?"
She chuckled, then nodded slightly.
Riley:
"Something like that."
---
[End of School – Lockers]
2:55 p.m.
The bell rang. Backpacks zipped, lockers slammed, students rushed for the exits.
Peter and Ned stood at their lockers. Riley passed by, waving softly.
Riley:
"See you Monday."
Peter: (smiling)
Peter: "Yeah... see you."
Ned: (nudging him)
"Dude. She talked to you. Twice. This is a new record."
Peter:
Peter: "I'm trying, okay? She's just... different."
Ned:
"She's your type of different."
Peter couldn't argue with that.
---
[Parker Residence – Peter's Bedroom]
Queens, New York
May 24, (2015)
Friday, 10:23 p.m.
The room was dim, lit only by the soft glow of a desk lamp and the faint hum of a computer. Peter sat cross-legged on his bed, phone in hand, video calling Ned.
Peter: (rubbing the back of his neck, tired)
"Alright, man. That's enough socializing for today. I'm beat."
Ned: (smiling, waving)
"Yeah, dude. Get some sleep. Big day tomorrow. Maybe you'll actually make a move."
Peter: (half-smiling)
"Yeah, maybe. Goodnight, Ned."
Ned:
"Goodnight, Pete. Don't stay up too late stalking Riley online."
Peter: (mock offense)
"Shut up."
They ended the call. Peter set the phone on the desk and lay back, eyes staring at the ceiling, replaying moments from the day.
---
[Green's Residence – Riley's Bedroom] Brooklyn, New York
Same Night, (2015)
Monday, 10:35 p.m.
Riley held her phone close, lying on her bed. The screen showed her best friend Betty on the other end of a voice call.
Riley: (whispering excitedly)
"So today... Peter was just... I don't know, different. Every time we talked, I felt my heart beating like crazy but I kept it cool."
Betty: (laughing)
"Aw, that's so cute! You're totally into him, huh?"
Riley: (blushing, looking away)
"Maybe. But he's so chill, and kinda nerdy... it's weird."
Betty:
"Nerdy is good! You're perfect for each other."
Riley: (giggling)
"Yeah, maybe. I just hope I don't mess it up."
---
[Green's Residence – living room]
Brooklyn New York
May 29, (2015)
Friday, 11:02 p.m
The apartment was quiet except for the soft sound of a door closing. Max stepped in, looking exhausted. Emily appeared instantly, wrapping her arms tightly around him.
Emily: (clingy, almost whispering)
"You're late again... You never slow down."
Max sighed but smiled softly, running a hand through her hair.
Max: (gently)
"Emily... you know why. This machine has to work. If it does, everything changes."
Emily: (worried, voice shaky)
"I know, but you're missing us. You're missing me. And I hate feeling like I'm losing you to that stupid thing."
Max pulled her into a brief hug, the weight of the day clear on his face.
Max:
"I promise... once this is done, I'll make it right."
Emily looked into his eyes, hope and doubt tangled in her expression.
---
[Green's Residence – Riley's Bedroom]
Brooklyn, New York
May 29, (2015)
Friday, 11:15 p.m.
Riley lay back on her pillow, phone in hand. The screen showed photos of Peter—laughing in class, talking with Ned, and the rare candid shot she'd sneaked during lunch. She smiled softly, fingers tracing the screen as if trying to memorize every detail.
Her eyes fluttered heavy with sleep. Whispering to herself, barely audible:
Riley: (softly, almost a breath)
"I really love you... I don't know why... but I can't say it."
She placed the phone gently on her bedside table and closed her eyes, drifting slowly into dreams where maybe, one day, she could tell him everything.
---
# # # # #
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