In a small grocery store tucked between a laundromat and a bakery on the east side of Manhattan, Scott was finishing the final stretch of his shift.
He stood in the refrigerated aisle, leaning over to restock a row of milk cartons, his thoughts somewhere far away from expiration dates and pricing labels. The air was cold, and his fingers were starting to feel numb, but he didn't care. The real enemy was boredom.
He was bored out of his mind.
Every few seconds, his eyes flicked toward the wall clock above the back exit.
Tick.
Still had five minutes.
He kept restocking, moving slower now, dragging it out. Every now and then, he'd sigh and glance again, silently begging time to move faster.
Five agonizing minutes later, the clock finally struck the hour.
Scott straightened up, cracked his neck, and exhaled like he'd been released from prison. He placed the last milk carton in its spot, shut the cooler door with a dull thud, and made his way toward the break room, fishing his phone out of his pocket as he walked.
His shift was over.
Freedom.
He leaned against the wall near the lockers and absently scrolled through his notifications, waiting.
After a couple minutes, he heard footsteps.
And then she walked in.
Ava Ayala.
Same age. Same uniform. Same blank employee expression on her face.
But unlike him, she was more than she let on.
White Tiger. Or… at least, he thought she was.
Scott had been working at the store for two days before she was hired. The first time he saw her, he did a double take. She looked familiar, but he couldn't place it right away—until her name tag caught his eye.
Ava.
And just like that, the puzzle pieces clicked into place. A background face in the comics. A "C-list" hero, maybe a B if you stretched it. Someone he never expected to run into in person.
Was she already White Tiger? He didn't know.
But if she was, she wasn't saying anything. And he wasn't about to bring it up. Not yet.
Still, working with her had been… surprisingly easy.
They clicked.
Within the first week, they were walking home together after every shift, talking about everything and nothing. Coffee runs, dumb customer stories, what kind of music they liked. It was simple. Natural.
And for Scott—who had no one else in this world—it mattered.
A lot.
Today was no different.
As they walked out of the store side by side, both still in uniform, they turned onto the familiar block that led to their regular coffee shop. The late afternoon light stretched long shadows across the sidewalk, and the cold breeze made Ava pull her sleeves down a little tighter.
"So," Scott asked, casually slipping his phone into his pocket, "how's life?"
Ava looked at him with that cool, unreadable expression she always wore when she didn't want to give too much away.
"It's fine," she said. "Nothing really special happened. Just… spent some time with my family, like usual."
She shrugged a little, as if it didn't mean much. But Scott had gotten good at catching the small stuff.
Like the way she walked just a little slower than usual today.
He looked down at her feet—and yeah, there it was.
A limp. Slight. But noticeable.
He hesitated for half a second before asking, "Then why are you limping?"
The question came out more directly than he intended.
Ava flinched—not dramatically, just the tiniest twitch of surprise. She hadn't expected him to notice. Or maybe she hadn't expected him to ask.
She didn't answer right away.
Scott didn't press. He just kept walking beside her, hands in his pockets, pretending it was nothing.
Truth was, he didn't know if she was White Tiger. Not for sure.
But there were signs.
The way she moved. The way she scanned her surroundings sometimes, even when she wasn't trying to. The limp. The fact that her family was tied to heroism. It was all there. But it could also just be a coincidence. Or maybe she got hurt doing something totally mundane. Accidents happened.
Still, a part of him hoped it was true.
Not because he wanted to blow her cover, but because it would make things easier. If she revealed herself to him, then maybe—just maybe—he could reveal himself too. They wouldn't have to pretend anymore. Wouldn't have to fake being just a couple of tired coworkers grabbing coffee after a shift.
They'd know the truth.
Two people on the same side.
But life wasn't that simple.
So, for now, they were just Scott and Ava, walking down the street like two ordinary civilians.
And honestly?
That was enough.
(please check out my novel: Star Island: A Hero's path It's on Royal Road, but The first 102 chapters Are in WebNovel)