"I thought you hated coming here," Clark said, his tone sharp. He was still bitter about the school bus incident, and it came out in his words.
Adrian leaned casually against the wooden beam of Clark's loft, his smirk thin. "Isn't this your little secret base? I figured I should leave it alone. But if I wanted to see what you were doing… I wouldn't need a telescope. One glance would be enough."
Clark's frown deepened. The implication was clear—Adrian could watch anyone, anywhere. Even Lana.
His stomach twisted. Did Adrian…?
Before Clark could form the thought, Adrian shook his head, his tone laced with quiet authority. "Honestly, Clark, Lana isn't right for you."
That stung.
"You sound like one of the teachers lecturing us about responsibility," Clark snapped back, "judging things you don't understand."
Adrian's chuckle was low. "Except I'm not some dean with a clipboard. I'm your brother. And I'm telling you the truth."
He walked toward the telescope, adjusting its lens with ease. "Her house is less than a mile away, and yet… she's never once come here. That's not because she dislikes you. It's because she doesn't see you the way you want her to."
Clark clenched his fists. Adrian's words slid under his skin like barbed wire.
"Whatever. Just remember to respect people's privacy," Clark muttered before storming down the stairs.
Adrian remained in the loft, amused. You spy on her with glass lenses, and then lecture me about privacy. Hypocrisy must run in your veins, Clark.
---
The next morning, Smallville High buzzed with gossip. Students clustered in hallways, whispering and pointing, the weight of rumor spreading like wildfire.
"Well, well. Our superhero arrives!"
Clark turned, shoulders tense, to see Chloe grinning, books in hand. Beside her stood Pete, hands stuffed in his jacket pockets.
Chloe's blonde hair framed a face that carried equal parts mischief and intelligence. She had the sharp eyes of a journalist-in-training, already dreaming of her future at the Daily Planet.
Clark forced a smile. "What are you talking about, Chloe? Another headline for your Wall of Weird?"
She smirked. "I think Pete nailed it—you've got a quirky sense of humor." She pointed across the hall. A group of girls were staring at him, whispering. "Half the school says you pulled that bus out of the water with your bare hands. It's why you're suddenly the center of attention."
Clark shifted uncomfortably. "You don't believe that, do you?"
"I don't believe anything until I've got proof," Chloe said, eyebrow raised.
Clark turned to Pete. His best friend just grinned. "Hey, considering you somehow beat us to school after missing the bus, I'd say lifting one isn't out of the question. Unless you really do use that 'black hole shortcut' you keep talking about."
Chloe smirked. "Shortcut, huh? Sounds more like time travel."
Clark groaned. "I didn't do it. End of story."
Chloe crossed her arms. "Then maybe your brother did." She nodded toward the doors where Adrian entered, cutting across the courtyard like he owned the place. Heads turned his way—people didn't whisper about him like Clark. They simply watched, wary of his presence, as if he carried gravity with every step.
"Adrian's even more mysterious than you," Chloe muttered. Her eyes lingered on him, curious and calculating.
Clark swallowed. "Maybe."
Chloe leaned closer. "Clark, I want you to set up an interview. With Adrian. If he's not the hero, then he knows who is. And maybe… we'll learn a little more about you while we're at it."
Before Clark could argue, Pete tugged his arm. "Forget the interview. Clark, we've got bigger problems."
Chloe frowned. "What now?"
Pete lowered his voice. "It's the Scarecrow thing. Freshman tradition. Football team paints an 'S' on your chest and strings you up like livestock. Clark and I are prime candidates."
Chloe wrinkled her nose. "That's barbaric. Whoever gets chosen will need years of therapy."
"Exactly. Which is why," Pete said, puffing his chest with false confidence, "we ask Adrian for help."
Clark blinked. "Adrian? Are you serious?"
"He played football back in middle school. Knows half the guys who run the team now. If he says we're off-limits, it might save us."
Clark frowned. "That was years ago. They don't listen to Adrian anymore."
Pete crossed his arms. "We won't know until we try. And let's face it—you don't exactly have veto power in this group."
Chloe smiled slyly. "Looks like we both need a word with Adrian. After school. Don't be late." She brushed past them, already planning her questions.
Pete jogged after her. "See you later, Clark!"
Clark stood alone, sighing. He knew resistance was useless.
---
Across the courtyard, Adrian approached his locker. The moment he opened it, his eyes narrowed.
Empty.
The lead box he'd hidden there was gone.
Inside that box were fragments of kryptonite—shards of the world Clark had come from, each one more dangerous than the last. Adrian had gone to great lengths to gather them, knowing how useful they'd be.
And now, someone had stolen them.
His lips curved into the faintest smile, though his eyes were sharp and cold. So the rats finally crawl from the shadows.
He closed the locker with deliberate calm, but his mind burned. Whoever had taken the box had just made themselves prey.
And Adrian never left prey standing.
---