Peter had always loved photography.
That old, battered camera of his had taken months of scrimping and saving to afford—secondhand, outdated, but still surprisingly reliable.
The two of them walked toward the bus stop, where a girl was already waiting.
"Good morning."
Mary Jane stood there looking vibrant as ever, her fiery red hair spilling over her shoulders, dimples appearing when she smiled.
"Morning, Mary Jane," Ben—"Bant"—answered smoothly.
Peter managed an awkward greeting before clamping his mouth shut again.He simply wasn't good at talking to girls.Not just with Mary Jane—he was the same with Liz, the girl he actually liked.Even if she passed right next to him, he wouldn't dare say hello.
Mary Jane, however, seemed quite interested in Bant. The two chatted easily, leaving Peter feeling like an unnecessary extra.
But that was nothing new.
Compared to "the utterly invisible Peter Parker," Bant had always been popular.Good grades, decent athletic ability—Flash constantly tried to recruit him for the baseball team, and sometimes even dragged Bant into pickup basketball games.
Bant refused every time.
"Do you want to come watch our rehearsal this weekend?" Mary Jane asked expectantly. "I'm in a band with a few others. Gwen Stacy from your class is in it too. I'm the lead singer."
"I'm not sure if I'll have time," Bant replied, not giving a clear yes.
He could already predict the week ahead—busy, hectic.Watching a group of pretty girls sing and dance onstage? Tempting, sure…but nowhere near as appealing as the machines in his lab.
Truthfully, Bant didn't love science in the romantic sense.He was just desperate to change the Parker family's current life as fast as possible.
"You planning on becoming a singer someday?" he asked.
"A singer…or maybe an actress. Who knows?" Mary Jane admitted she had no real plan for the future.
Soon the school bus arrived. Mary Jane split off to sit beside her friends.
Flash spotted Bant and waved enthusiastically, arm still draped around his girlfriend Liz.
"Morning, Little Bant! Got time for baseball practice this afternoon?"
"Morning, Little Bant!" Liz chimed in, waving warmly.
Peter's expression darkened again.
"No. I've got other things to do."
Flash pushed Liz aside. "Move over."Then he shoved past Peter too, leaning in close.
"Did you hear about what happened on the Williamsburg Bridge last night?"
"Spider-Man vs. the Lizard. Of course I heard." Bant glanced at Peter—Peter immediately looked away.
"Spider-Man, huh? Nice name—way better than the one the Daily Bugle came up with." Flash nodded vigorously.
If Jameson was Spider-Man's loudest critic, then Flash Thompson was undoubtedly his biggest fan.
"He's so cool!"
He completely ignored his girlfriend, rambling to Bant nonstop.
Liz, furious, turned away—only to see Peter, equally abandoned.She grabbed him and sat down elsewhere.
"She definitely likes me!"
In front of the school gate, Peter declared this to Bant with absolute confidence.
"You saw her sit with me, right? On the bus? I could smell her shampoo from that close…" His expression turned dreamy.
"Can you not sound like a creep?" Bant rolled his eyes.
He honestly felt like his little brother was beyond saving.
"You two only sat together. You didn't even talk to her. And she only sat with you because Flash pushed her away."
Liz wasn't a bad person—but she was absolutely the type who loved attention.Someone like her would never truly like someone as unremarkable as Peter Parker.
Bant shook his head and ignored him, heading into class.
The moment he stepped in, he saw Felicia bent over her textbook, studying intently.
"You really work hard," he remarked as he set down his backpack.
With Felicia's family background, she didn't need to study this fiercely.The Hardy Foundation alone could secure her a place among the upper class.
"You're not late today?" she asked.
Felicia had actually seen him at the school gate earlier, but she'd still been sulking and planned to ignore him.
But the instant Bant walked into the classroom, he came straight to talk to her—and her irritation dissolved instantly.
"My dad always taught me that whatever you do, you should do it the best you can," Felicia said proudly. "Like—if you like basketball, don't just settle for being a cheerleader. Go and play on the court yourself."
"He always told me to pursue perfection—to reach for the extreme."
As she said this, her expression dimmed.She wasn't a genius. She chased perfection endlessly, yet could never reach it.And the father who instilled that belief in her… had long vanished from her life.
Right now, she looked like a stray kitten—lonely, fragile.
But just like a wildcat, she was also tough enough to recover quickly.
She pushed the emotion away, looked into Bant's eyes, and invited again:
"So… do you want to come to the study session sometime? I tried asking Gwen, but she joined the band, so…"
"It'll be just you and me."
No time.
Bant wanted to say that.But when the words reached his lips, he changed them.
"Maybe we can schedule it another day."
"Really?!"
"You're actually agreeing?!"
Felicia shot up from her seat, thrilled.She had never expected Bant to accept her invitation this time.
Only the two of them—it felt almost like… a date.
The thought alone made little pink bubbles explode in her mind.
"It depends on my schedule," Bant added quickly.
He glanced at the delighted Felicia spinning in place and thought:
Harry's funding isn't enough. If I ever run short, I'll have to rely on the Hardy Foundation. She's a future little heiress who might fund my projects someday—I'd better cultivate the relationship.
Felicia liked science—and conveniently, the Web-Warrior was very, very good at science.
After school—
"Don't forget the study session."
Felicia reminded him as Bant left the building.
Peter went to Oscorp as planned. Bant parted with him at the subway; his destination was the Williamsburg Bank.
The building was distinctly European in style—domed roof, four-sided clock tower, almost resembling a castle.
"Little Bant! Over here!"
Harry stepped out of a Rolls-Royce and waved energetically.
Bant turned at the sound, ready to respond—only to freeze.
Harry hadn't come alone.
A second figure stepped out of the car.A middle-aged man in a tailored suit, a stern expression carved into his long, angular face.Even the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes curved downward, giving him a perpetual severity.His temples were graying, hair slicked back meticulously.
Simply standing there, he gave off an overwhelming pressure.
Bant's brow tightened slightly. His heart sank.
—Norman Osborn.
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