Chapter Text
“Bulaga!”
The school hallways bustled with the usual pre-class chaos, students weaving in and out of conversations, lockers slamming, and the general hum of teenage energy. Jhoanna Robles found a rare moment of peace amidst the buzz of her busy schedule as she arranged her books in her locker, mentally checking off her list of things for the upcoming class in chemistry lab. The click and clatter of metal lockers and the faint chatter of classmates created a background noise that Jhoanna had grown accustomed to, almost like a second nature.
As she reached for her chemistry textbook, Jhoanna had already felt the familiar presence of her best friend sneaking up behind her. Sheena gave her a shove as she shouted, hoping to startle her, but Jhoanna didn't flinch. She didn’t even bat an eyelash.
Ever since Sheena discovered her best friend's secret identity as Spider-Man, she developed an amusing habit of trying to startle or get a big reaction from the usually level-headed Jhoanna. It started as a way to test Jhoanna’s spider senses and reflexes, until it grew into a playful game between them, one that added a touch of lightness to their otherwise serious lives.
Not once did she ever succeed.
In her typical OA fashion, Sheena continued her attempts, undeterred, each one more creative and obnoxious than the last. She tried jumping out from behind doors, hiding in lockers, storage boxes, closets, Jhoanna's car trunk, everywhere, and even sneaking up on Jhoanna during her patrols (to which Jhoanna absolutely hated her for, because: Shee, ilugar mo ‘yang mga laro mo. If, God forbid, anything happens to you, I will personally dig up your grave just to kill you again). Jhoanna, with her enhanced senses and reflexes, always sensed Sheena coming, often turning the tables and startling Sheena instead.
“May araw ka rin sa’kin,” Sheena jabbed a finger in Jhoanna’s firm shoulder, attempting to sound menacing, because her attempt at a scare fell flat as Jhoanna turned, unimpressed, a small smirk tugging at her lips.
“Sige, hihintayin ko ‘yan,” Jhoanna replied with a hint of sarcasm, turning back to her locker. Sheena leaned against the adjacent locker, her eyes twinkling with amusement.
“Ang yabang mo! Tignan mo talaga, Jhoanna. Maiisahan kita! At who you ka sa pagiging Spider-Man mo!” Sheena’s voice rose with playful indignation, her hands animatedly gesturing.
Jhoanna quickly slapped a hand over Sheena’s mouth, her eyes widening in alarm. “Ang ingay mo talaga! Dapat talaga sa’yo binubura ang memorya!” she hissed, glancing around to make sure no one overheard.
Sheena, unfazed, mumbled through Jhoanna’s hand, her words muffled but determined. “Sige nga, gawin mo!” She annoyingly tilts her head and sassily gasps. “Ay, hindi mo kaya, kasi ako ‘yung chair guy mo.”
Jhoanna felt her lips moving against her hand. So, with an irritated frown, she finally let go of Sheena’s mouth, teasingly wiping her hand on the girl’s shirt. “Si Gwen ang chair guy ko. Panggulo ka lang. Salingkitkit.”
“Ako 'yung chair guy ng chair guy mo. In other words, wala kang chair guy kung wala ako,” Sheena shot back, crossing her arms defiantly.
Jhoanna used to operate alone, swinging through the city nights as Spider-Man, meticulously staying in the shadows to hide her identity. She relied heavily on her own instincts and journalist connections to gather information, piecing together leads in the dead of night. It was a solitary existence, one that demanded both vigilance and secrecy. However, everything changed when her best friend discovered her secret. With her boundless enthusiasm and loud mouth, Sheena promptly declared herself Jhoanna's “chair guy,” a self-appointed role that involved helping her friend however she could.
Sheena's excitement was genuine, but her inability to keep quiet, especially around her girlfriend, Gwen, quickly became an issue. Gwen was naturally suspicious, noticing how Sheena and Jhoanna often spent their nights together under mysterious circumstances, always on late night adventures and whispered conversations. One evening, when Sheena accidentally let slip a few too many details, Gwen pieced everything together. Rather than being upset, she offered her help.
Gwen, with her sharp intellect and engineering prowess, quickly proved indispensable. She helped Jhoanna improve the pathetic piece of cloth she called her suit tenfold, incorporating advanced technology that Jhoanna could only dream of. Under Gwen's careful guidance, the suit became a marvel of engineering, with enhancements that increased Jhoanna's agility, strength, and web-shooting capabilities. Gwen even designed a male façade for the suit to conceal the fact that Spider-Man was, in fact, a woman. She also installed a sophisticated voice changer to mask Jhoanna’s voice, a crucial addition given Jhoanna's growing presence as a radio show host for her journalism club. The voice changer ensured that no one would connect the dots between Spider-Man and Jhoanna, who shared the same voice on air.
With Gwen's expertise, the illusion of Spider-Man was perfected, providing an extra layer of protection for Jhoanna’s true identity. Gwen's strategic mind and technical skills made her the ideal chair guy, effectively dethroning Sheena from her self-appointed position.
Sheena, ever the supportive girlfriend and best friend, accepted her new role with grace. She became Gwen's “chair guy,” providing moral support and keeping the atmosphere light with her constant cheer. Though she no longer handled the technical side of things, her presence was a vital part of their team, ensuring that Jhoanna never felt alone in her night patrols.
“Sure, if that makes you feel better,” Jhoanna sighed, shaking her head with a chuckle. She turned back to preparing her materials.
Calculator? Check.
Lab gown? Check.
Book? Check.
In the background, she can hear Sheena go on and on about the latest gossip in the school. All of a sudden, her face changed, and she leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Alam mo na ‘yung bagong chika, ‘di ba? Tumataas ‘yung cases ng harassments ngayon.”
Goggles? Ch—
Chika?
Jhoanna’s expression morphed into something more serious, almost irritated. She took her role as both a journalist and Spider-Man seriously, and as a woman, the topic hit close to home. How could something so vile and disgusting be reduced to mere gossip? Every night, Jhoanna witnessed the horrific crimes these men committed against powerless women, often bearing bruises as evidence of her battles to protect them. And yet, to some people, it was all just gossip?
The frustration boiled within her, not only because Sheena used the word “chika,” but because it seemed to undermine the gravity of the situation. It was as if Sheena didn’t understand—or chose to overlook—the fact that Jhoanna risked her life every night to fight off groups of men, doing whatever it took to keep women safe. Was she not there to see her fight them? Where the hell has she been, then? To Jhoanna, this wasn’t trivial; it was a constant, gruelling battle against a pervasive threat.
“Pwede ba? Hindi 'yan basta basta chika. It's a crime, Sheena. Don't take it lightly,” Jhoanna snapped, her voice tinged with frustration and fatigue.
Sheena's eyes widened, a flicker of realization dawning in them. She raised her hands in a gesture of surrender, her voice softening with contrition. “Sorry, bad choice of words.” Jhoanna sighed deeply, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. “Itatanong ko lang sana kung anong balak mong gawin tungkol doon. Aside from the obvious na bugbugin sila.”
Jhoanna closed her locker door with a loud thud, releasing the remaining tension from the earlier exchange. Sheena jumps at the sound like a kicked puppy. “I’m thinking of making an episode about safety tips against harassment mamaya sa radio show. Makinig ka, ha?”
She knew that discussing the issue and offering safety tips on her radio show was, at best, a band-aid solution. The real root cause lay in changing the behavior of men, in teaching them to keep their actions in check. But that was Spider-Man's job — dispensing justice and protection in the shadows of the night. Jhoanna Robles, the radio broadcaster and journalist, could only do her best to raise awareness and provide the support she could through her platform.
Deep down, Jhoanna understood the limits of her dual identities. While Spider-Man could confront the immediate danger, Jhoanna Robles aimed to foster a broader conversation, hoping to plant the seeds of change in her community. Balancing these roles was challenging, but she knew it was necessary. Both Spider-Man and Jhoanna Robles were essential parts of the fight, each working in their own way to make the world a safer place.
Sheena’s face lit up with a grin, her eyes bright with support. “Oo naman, makikinig kami ni Bebe kahit na may date kami.”
Jhoanna rolled her eyes, suppressing a smile. “Yabang.”
Just then, Jhoanna felt the presence of Gwen approaching even before she saw her. The way Gwen carries herself, graceful and immovable, gave her an air of quiet confidence that contrasted with Sheena's bubbly personality.
“Jho, mamayang gabi, ha? We need to be extra alert since, you know. Naayos ko na rin yung mga punit at sira ng suit mo. Pwede bang maghinay-hinay ka lang?” Gwen reminded her, her tone serious but caring.
Jhoanna liked to think she was the boss of their trio, but in truth, she was just the muscle. Gwen was the real mind behind Spider-Man. Jhoanna saluted her with mock seriousness, a grin playing on her lips.
“Opo. Oh siya, iwan ko na kayo. Enjoy kayo sa date!” Jhoanna said, turning around to head to class.
In her haste to reach class on time, she bumped straight into Stacey Sevilleja. Stacey was not just any girl; she was the epitome of grace and kindness, the girl who seemed to light up any room she walked into. She was Jhoanna’s classmate in their physics lab, always punctual, always prepared, and always dazzling with her effortless brilliance.
Stacey lived just a floor above Jhoanna in their apartment building, and they often saw each other in the elevator. Those brief elevator rides were the highlight of Jhoanna's day, yet also the most nerve-wracking moments. Stacey, ever friendly, would greet her with a cheerful “Good morning, Jhoanna!” or “Hi, kumusta?” while Jhoanna, despite her confidence as a radio broadcaster, would find herself stuttering or mumbling incoherently. Her usual eloquence vanished, replaced by a fumbling attempt at conversation. Sometimes, words would fail her entirely, and she'd end up nodding or smiling like an idiot, internally cursing her inability to act normal around Stacey.
Jhoanna couldn’t help but think about how perfect Stacey was. Her long, dark hair framed her face like a princess, and her warm brown eyes always held a spark of kindness and curiosity. Stacey's laugh was musical, and her smile—oh, her smile—could melt even the toughest of hearts. Jhoanna often wondered how someone could be so effortlessly wonderful and still so down-to-earth.
And she is so down bad.
God, it's so embarrassing.
As they collided, Stacey’s surprise quickly turned to a warm smile.
“Sorry, Jhoanna!” she said, her voice like a melody, filled with genuine concern and friendliness. She hurried off to her next class, leaving Jhoanna standing there, frozen and tongue-tied, her heart pounding in her chest. Jhoanna's mind raced, replaying the moment over and over, chastising herself for not saying something more and for not making the most of even a small interaction with Stacey.
Sheena and Gwen, who had witnessed the entire interaction, couldn’t help but chuckle at Jhoanna's flustered state, their laughter snapping her back to reality.
“Late ka na, tanga,” Sheena teased, patting her shoulder with a smirk. Sheena had seen Jhoanna in action as Spider-Man, facing down criminals and swinging through the city with fearless determination and confidence. Still, here she was, undone by a simple conversation with her crush.
Gwen sighed mockingly, shaking her head with a smile. “Pag-ibig nga naman.”
The soft glow of moonlight washed over the peaceful park, casting long, stretching shadows across the secluded paths. The usually bustling park was now eerily quiet, the stillness broken only by the rustling of leaves and the distant hum of the city. Jhoanna, clad in her sleek Spider-Man suit, swung silently from tree to tree, her senses on high alert.
“It’s suspiciously quiet, ‘no?” Gwen's voice crackled in Jhoanna's ear.
Sheena's voice cut through the other earpiece, “Bebe, 'wag mo nang hilinging may mahanap tayong kababalaghan ngayong gabi.”
Just then, a piercing scream echoed not far from her where she was perched. Jhoanna groaned, “Na-jinx niyo tuloy!”
As she swung towards the source of the sound, her keen eyes caught sight of an unsettling scene below. Five burly men, almost thrice her size, had cornered a helpless woman near a secluded path. The woman's fearful eyes darted around, searching for an escape that didn't exist.
Jhoanna's heart pounded with a mix of anger and ire as she leaped down, landing gracefully between the woman and her assailants. “Ganyan ba kayo pinalaki ng nanay niyo?” she sneered, her voice echoing through the park.
In her ear, Sheena laughed and helpfully commented, “Aw, kulang sa aruga ang mga baby boys!”
One of them (stank and ugly as fuck, probably drunk out of his wits as Jhoanna can practically smell the alcohol on his breath) closed the distance between them. He looked down at Jhoanna and shouted at her face, spit flying everywhere. Gross. “‘Wag kang mangialam, Gagamboy. Hindi ka kasali rito.”
Gagamboy?
Jhoanna made an offended noise, placing her hand on her chest. She heard Sheena cackle with Gwen, trying to shush her, but she can hear the smile in Gwen’s voice even from a mile away. It wasn’t even for show; she was genuinely offended by the name.
Ang astig astig ng Spider-Man tapos tatawagin lang akong Gagamboy?!
Jhoanna frowned under her mask, her jaw clenching. Before she knew it, her fist collided with the man’s nose, causing him to reel backward. “Gagamboy, amputa,” she muttered.
A second man lunged at her, but Jhoanna was quicker. She ducked under his swing, her suit's enhanced strength allowing her to land a powerful punch to his gut. He doubled over, winded. She fired her web-shooters, ensnaring another man's legs and yanking him off his feet.
“Incoming from the left!” Gwen's calm, strategic voice guided her every move.
Jhoanna spun around, her leg lashing out in a high kick that sent another attacker sprawling. Her movements were fluid and precise, her suit's tech amplifying her agility. She used her web to pull herself up and over the men, landing behind them to deliver swift, incapacitating strikes.
“Go, Jho! Pag-untugin mo nga ‘yan!” Sheena's enthusiastic cheers fueled her resolve.
She shot webs on the remaining two bastards’ heads. With all her strength, she brought their heads together with a loud crunching sound. Oof, that sounds concerning. “May dulot ka rin pala minsan,” Jhoanna panted, referring to Sheena.
The men regrouped, their faces twisted in anger. They charged at her together, their sheer size and numbers creating a formidable challenge. Jhoanna weaved between them, her fists and feet moving in a blur. She dodged a punch from that smelly alcohol guy, only to receive a kick from behind, effectively bringing her to her knees. The other men took that split second of recovery as an opening, and she received a series of brutal blows from the bastards as a result.
Repeatedly and in no particular order: a punch square in the jaw, a kick in the sternum, a step in her ribs, a boot sole in her temple, another kick in the stomach.
Just as she thought that the men would eventually grow tired, especially in their drunken state, a sharp pain exploded at the back of her head. One of the attackers had picked up a rock and struck her. The world spun violently, her eyes blurring. She lolled her head back at the pavement, her temple throbbing, and black spots danced in her vision. She blinked hard to clear her vision and instinctively shook her head.
It was the wrong move; she immediately felt the dizziness worsen.
“Jhoanna, okay ka lang?!” Gwen's voice was urgent, laced with worry.
Hindi, fuck. She couldn’t even find the strength to mutter out a response.
Jhoanna was growing frustrated at this point, and the pain was starting to seep in despite the adrenaline. This was not at all how she imagined her night would go. It was supposed to be routine — boring and predictable. Punch, web the bad guys, and onto the next. Getting her ass kicked by five disgusting men who smell like Satan shit on them was not part of the plan. At a distance, she heard the woman she was supposed to save runoff, which was great because it gave her the opportunity to blindly shoot her webs, hoping that it would latch onto these men. With a wheeze, she grunted, “Activate taser webs.”
The bastards dropped to their knees as the current ran through them. Wobbly, she stood, flipping off one of the bastards she made eye contact with.
“This is so unnecessarily long,” Jhoanna muttered, forcing herself to focus. She couldn't let these men win. Despite the pain and disorientation, Jhoanna pushed through. She fired her webs with precision, using the environment to her advantage. She swung up into the trees as she went, webbing men to tree trunks and branches like grotesque ornaments. Her movements were less graceful now, but her determination to put an end to this remained unwavering.
The fight was a blur of punches, kicks, and webbing. Jhoanna's body moved on autopilot, driven by the remaining adrenaline in her system. Finally, with a last burst of strength, she webbed the final man to a tree trunk, his struggles futile against the sticky webs.
She approached the first man, who was now hanging from a branch like a cocoon. Slightly pushing the web, she smiles menacingly, “Not bad for a Gagamboy, huh?”
As the distant wail of police sirens grew louder, Jhoanna took it as a sign to leave, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She reached for a piece of paper, her hands trembling as she scrawled a note and stuck it on one of the bastard’s forehead: “Tangina talaga ng mga lalaki.”
Jhoanna, her strength waning, swung away towards her apartment building before the officers could see her, her body aching in places that she didn’t even know existed.
The brutal fight had drained Jhoanna completely. Every swing felt heavier than the last, her limbs protesting with each movement. Blood trickled down her face, mingling with the sweat and grime. When she finally reached her apartment building, she could barely muster the strength to pull herself up to the balcony. She landed with a loud thud, nearly shattering the window. The impact sent a sharp pain through her already battered body, and she grimaced, trying to hold back a groan.
“Okay ka lang?” Gwen's voice crackled once again through her comms, filled with concern.
Jhoanna tried to respond, but the words caught in her throat (or maybe it was the blood and she was probably bleeding internally somewhere, she's not really sure). She attempted to stand, but her legs buckled beneath her, sending her crashing back to the floor in a heap. She could feel her consciousness slipping, the world around her blurring at the edges.
Great, now she probably has a concussion.
“O-Oo, pahinga na muna ako, guys,” she managed to whisper, her voice barely audible.
Gwen sighed, her worry evident even through the comms. “Okay, tumawag ka kung may kailangan ka.”
“Pahinga, Jho.” The last thing she heard was Sheena's concerned voice before the line went completely silent.
Jhoanna closed her eyes, thinking she might just sleep on the balcony, the cold concrete a stark contrast to the warmth she currently feels (which again, could be the blood). But then, she heard the unmistakable sound of the glass door sliding open, which was weird, considering that she doesn't live with anyone.
Unless…?
Her heart skipped a beat, and she forced her eyes open to see Stacey standing there, her eyes wide with shock and terror.
Ah, shit.
In her hands, Stacey clutched a frying pan, her knuckles white from gripping it so tightly. “Sino ka?!”
For a moment, Jhoanna was too stunned to speak. She had missed her balcony by a floor and was now lying on the balcony of none other than the girl she liked, bleeding and concussed. Panic welled up inside her, mingling with the pain and exhaustion.
If she weren't about to get killed (again) right now, she would've thought Stacey was cute.
But damn, all that fighting in the park only to die in the hands of a cute terrified girl with a frying pan.
Fear and confusion flashed across Stacey's face as she swung the pan toward the mysterious figure in the dark, hitting the balcony floor with a loud metallic clang. Despite her sluggish state, Jhoanna's reflexes kicked in, and she managed to dodge the makeshift weapon by an inch, her movements fueled by pure instinct. She definitely did not need another head trauma tonight.
“Wait!” Jhoanna croaked, her voice raw and desperate.
Stacey hesitated, the hand that was about to take another swing faltered, her eyes narrowing as she took in the sight of the injured superhero sprawled on her balcony. Recognition dawned on her face, and she lowered the frying pan, her expression shifting from fear to concern.
“Hala, oh my gosh, Spider-Man?” Stacey gasped, dropping the frying pan with a clatter. “Sorry! Ikaw pala ‘yan!”
Jhoanna tried to offer a reassuring smile but winced instead. “It's okay. Buti na lang hindi kutsilyo dala mo.”
Stacey awkwardly laughed, kicking aside the pan as if to hide the evidence of her paranoia. “I'm Stacey, by the way.”
Jhoanna managed a small smile behind her mask.
Alam ko, she wanted to say.
“Nice to meet you, Stacey,” was what came out.
The girl scanned Jhoanna's bruised figure lying helplessly on her floor, her brows furrowing in an adorable manner that her heart swooned at the site despite the difficulty in breathing.
Jhoanna was not a sight for sore eyes. She felt sticky with sweat and blood, her suit torn in places she couldn't even see. One mechanical eye has been glitching for who knows how long, adding to the dizziness that was currently overwhelming her senses. Every breath felt like a laborious task, her ribs aching with each inhalation. The city lights blurred in her vision, and she struggled to focus on the worried face before her.
“May maitutulong ba 'ko?” Stacey asked, her voice soft yet filled with apprehension.
Jhoanna tried to respond, her voice strained. “Hindi na. Okay lang ako.” She attempted to stand on her feet, muscles trembling with the effort. She was so close to the comfort of her own home. She just needed to climb down Stacey's balcony and she could finally freely pass out on her own. But her body betrayed her, giving out entirely, and she landed on the floor with another thud. All this collapsing was not doing any good to her concussion; she could probably feel her literal brain move in her skull.
Stacey knelt beside her in alarm, her eyes wide with concern. Jhoanna managed a weak smile (even though Stacey couldn't see) and whispered, “Hindi pala okay.”
Stacey quickly moved to help her, her movements gentle but urgent. “Pasok ka muna.”
With Stacey's support, Jhoanna managed to get inside. The warmth of the apartment enveloped her, contrasting sharply with the chill of the night outside. Stacey guided her to the couch, her touch tender yet firm. Jhoanna's mind was a whirl of emotions — embarrassment, relief, and an overwhelming gratitude for Stacey's kindness. She winced with every step, feeling the sting of countless sore spots and the throbbing pain of bruises forming beneath her suit.
Stacey hurried off and returned with a first aid kit, her face set in silent concentration. She knelt beside Jhoanna and started to tend to her wounds. “This might sting a bit,” she said softly, her fingers deftly applying ointment to the visible bruises and cuts on the torn areas of Jhoanna's suit — her shoulder, ribs, knuckles, and other bruised spots. Each touch was careful, precise, a mixture of tenderness and urgency.
Jhoanna winced at the touch, Stacey noticed and muttered an apology. The superhero sighed and attempted to joke, “It’s fine. I'm fine. All in a day's work.” She doesn't really talk this much nonsense on a regular basis, but her head was still throbbing and the only way to keep her alert and conscious was through talking. A lot of talking, apparently. She really blames the concussion for this, but she can’t seem to stop. “So… It's a Friday night. What's a girl your age doing here at home? Wala ka bang party na kalalasingan o gala na pupuntahan?”
Stacey was taken aback from the sudden onslaught of questions. She looks up at the superhero, only to see her head thrown back at the sofa, and an arm covering her eyes. The hero continued blabbing, “Joke lang. ‘Di mo naman kailangan sagutin, sorry. Madaldal lang talaga ako ngayon, which I'm not, typically. Sadyang napalala lang ngayon dahil sa mga nakaaway ko kanina. Biruin mo ‘yun limang mga lalaki. Ang lalaki pa nila!”
Jhoanna snorts in amusement at her own words, “Hah, lalaking malalaki. Nice.”
Halfway through her spiel, she didn’t notice the glitch underneath her mask and the bold red lights that said: VOICE CHANGER DEACTIVATED.
She did notice, however, how Stacey had gone eerily quiet and frozen, halfway through putting a gauze on a cut on her side. Jhoanna frowned, her mind sluggish and not quite understanding why Stacey had stopped.
“What? Bakit ka tumigil? May dumi ba sa mukha ko?” Jhoanna asked, which was stupid, because she was sure Stacey couldn't even see her face right now. Her voice was hoarse but clear.
Stacey’s eyes were wide with disbelief as she stared at Jhoanna. “You're not a... man.”
Oh.
Oh.
“Oh, shit.”
Gwen will kill her.
Jhoanna’s heart dropped to her stomach as the realization dawned on her. The voice changer.
Stacey’s hands trembled slightly as she set the gauze aside. “Babae ka,” she said, her voice a mix of awe and confusion. “Which is so ironic, because you're Spider-Man. Who would have thought na hindi naman pala talaga lalaki si Spider-Man!”
Jhoanna doesn't know if she should be offended or worried about Stacey's reaction. “Talagang inulit-ulit mo pa,” she muttered.
Stacey gave her an embarrassed smile, her face tinting pink. “Sorry, nabigla lang talaga ako.”
She tried to smile in reassurance, but it came out more as a grimace. “It's, um, kinda important to keep that under wraps. For safety reasons. Ikaw na nga nagsabi, walang makakaisip na babae si Spider-Man. So walang makakaalam kung sino ba talaga ako, hence, no threat in my personal life.”
Stacey blinked, her expression softening as she processed the revelation. “Okay, gets. Sorry ulit. ‘Di ko naman ipagsasabi, if that's what you're worried about.”
An awkward beat passed between the two. Jhoanna contemplated whether she should take it as a cue to leave and never show her masked face to Stacey ever again, when the said girl curiously asked, “Bakit pamilyar ‘yung boses mo? Have I heard it somewhere before?”
…And, it's time to leave.
With a decisive clap, Jhoanna stood upright from the couch as if all her injuries miraculously healed, the world stopped spinning, and her vision went back to normal. Stacey startled, also jumping on her feet at the sudden sound.
Jhoanna cleared her throat before purposely making her voice sound deeper, “Guni-guni mo lang ‘yan. Ngayon lang kita nakilala.”
Stacey crossed her arms sassily, “Ginagaslight mo ba ‘ko? How dare you? Matapos kitang tulungan?”
Jhoanna opened the balcony door, the frosty bite of the night a welcoming contrast to Jhoanna's rapidly warming up face underneath the mask. She hopped onto the railing, grinning at the girl, “And I will forever be grateful to you for that. Pero promise, ikaw lang nag-iisip ng kung anu-ano.”
Stacey was about to retaliate, but Jhoanna’s screen under her mask showed an incoming call from Sheena, most likely to check up on her. “Saved by the bell. Salamat ulit!”
She waved Stacey goodbye before freefalling into the night.
When Stacey looked over her balcony, Spider-Man was nowhere to be seen.
“Why do you sound so familiar?” She asked into the quiet of the night.