Free Web NovelChapter 23: Chapter 23: Hot Cola? Too Fucking Amateur!
Chapter 23: Hot Cola? Too Fucking Amateur!
"Mr. Soldier Boy, here is your drink."
The interview was still underway, camera flashes erupting in a relentless, crackling storm. A staff member holding a tray carefully navigated around the mess of cables on the floor, placing a beverage on the table beside Benjamin.
Benjamin was currently being hounded by one reporter after another. These reporters were asking way too many goddamn questions, and he was already getting visibly irritated. His face was as grim as a block of iron.
Then, he casually picked up the cup. The moment his fingertips made contact with the glass, his expression shifted instantly. ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom
Hot?
He brought the cup beneath his nose and sniffed—it was sweet, carrying a warm, caramelly aroma. Cola. And it was hot. Someone had actually served him a cup of hot cola.
"Is this fucking hot?"
Benjamin bolted to his feet, his chair letting out a sharp, ear-piercing screech behind him. He slammed the cup violently onto the floor. The glass shattered instantly, sending the warm, dark-brown liquid splattering everywhere.
Several reporters in the front row flinched backward in fright. The flashes halted for a fraction of a second before erupting at an even more frenzied pace. After all, other superheroes always put on a polite and refined front—at least when the cameras were rolling. But Soldier Boy...
A few younger reporters who weren’t entirely familiar with Soldier Boy’s reputation began snapping photos like absolute lunatics.
"Fuck! Too fucking amateur! I want ice! Ice! Ice!!" fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com
The staff member’s face turned white as a sheet. Backing away repeatedly, he nearly stepped right onto the shattered glass on the floor.
"I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, sir! I’ll replace it right away—"
"And bring my son an iced cola too," Benjamin demanded, pointing a finger to his side. Homelander was currently sitting perfectly proper in his chair. "If it comes out hot again, you’re fucking finished here."
The staff member practically ran out of the room.
Looking at the shattered glass on the floor, the corner of Homelander’s mouth twitched slightly, though he didn’t dare laugh out loud. A few reporters covered their mouths, their shoulders shaking with suppressed amusement. The director on set let out a wail through the earpieces, and the PR department immediately began frantically drafting an apology statement.
"PR better not apologize. Is hot cola meant for human consumption? You tell me. Fuck you."
Having spat out his piece, Benjamin sat back down. He adjusted the gauntlets of his suit as if nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred, then tilted his chin toward the stunned crowd of reporters below.
"Next question. Quick, quick, quick, don’t waste my time."
---<>---
After the press conference concluded, Benjamin went straight back to Vought Tower.
The elevator doors slid shut, sealing out the noise of the reporters and the blinding camera flashes. Leaning against the mirrored wall of the elevator, he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Dealing with the media was more exhausting than fighting a war. Especially that pathetic hot cola incident. Dogs wouldn’t even drink that shit.
Homelander hadn’t returned with him, mostly because Translucent had been missing for two days now. He wanted to investigate it. It wasn’t that he actually cared about Translucent—the guy was a piece of shit anyway—but a grown Supe vanishing into thin air right inside Vought Tower, let alone a member of The Seven, was an incident that made him inherently uncomfortable.
Because Homelander had previously blasted the records clerk who stood in the way of his files, his search through the surveillance footage and intelligence channels went exceptionally smoothly. No one dared to stand in his way.
---<>---
The following morning.
Benjamin stepped out of the elevator, holding his first beverage of the day—an iced cola. As he rounded the corner of the corridor, his footsteps suddenly slowed down.
Starlight was standing right in front of the floor-to-ceiling window at the end of the hallway, her back turned to him. She wasn’t wearing the modest suit she usually wore; instead, she was clad in an outfit he had never seen before—a plunging V-neck that cut almost all the way down to her belly button, a skirt so short it barely managed to cover the base of her thighs, and an entire back completely exposed from her shoulder blades to her waistline. Her long blonde hair had been styled into voluminous, flowing waves, cascading over her bare shoulders. One of her hands rested against the window frame, her shoulders trembling slightly.
Benjamin strode over. Before he could even open his mouth, he saw that her eyes were completely bloodshot, her mascara smudged slightly by tears, leaving a faint black streak across her lower eyelid.
"What the fuck are you wearing?"
Benjamin’s voice wasn’t loud, but his tone was freezing cold. He gave her a thorough look from head to toe, his brow furrowing into a tight knot.
"Dressed like a total slut. You’re a superhero—what the hell is the point of wearing something this exposing?"
Starlight’s lips trembled violently. She wiped the corner of her eye harshly with the back of her hand, trying her best to keep her voice from shaking, but failed completely.
"It’s Madelyn. She said my suit wasn’t marketable enough. She said audiences don’t want to see a female hero bundled up tightly. PR handed me this new suit, and she told me that if I refuse to wear it, I’m actively harming Vought’s interests and letting down the fans who support me."
Taking a deep breath, her voice grew steadily quieter.
"I tried to refuse. But she told me Vought’s contract clearly states that suit designs fall strictly under corporate decision-making, and I have zero right to decline. She also said... that with The Deep gone, The Seven is short-staffed right now. If I won’t cooperate, there are plenty of people lined up who are more than willing to take my place."
Benjamin said nothing. He placed his iced cola on the windowsill, turned around, and marched right back down the other end of the corridor.
Two interns carrying equipment down the hallway saw him approaching and immediately pinned themselves against the wall to clear a path. One of them nearly dropped the cardboard box in his hands.
Ashley’s office was located right around the corner of the corridor. She was currently sitting behind her desk, cross-referencing media drafts on her computer screen. Hearing the door shove open, she looked up and locked eyes with Benjamin’s expressionless face—a look carrying enough raw pressure to make anyone’s heart stop on the spot.
The pen in her hand dropped.
"Mr. Soldier Boy—is there something wrong?"
"Did you approve Starlight’s fucking suit?"
Ashley swallowed hard.
"It... it was a direct directive from Madelyn. I’m just executing it, I have absolutely zero decision-making authority—"
"You’re the Director of PR, and you have no decision-making power? Then what the fuck do we even need you for? Useless piece of trash."
Benjamin stood before her desk, delivering each word with deliberate weight. Ashley’s face drained of color. Because it really hadn’t been her call.
Benjamin demanded, "I’m giving you ten minutes. Get Madelyn down to my office."
Ashley nodded frantically. Her fingers were shaking so badly that it took her three attempts just to dial Madelyn’s number.
When Madelyn arrived, Benjamin was waiting for her inside his office, and Starlight had been called over as well. Starlight had already changed back into her original suit; that exposing, hooker-like outfit had been tossed carelessly onto the floor.
Madelyn pushed open the door. Taking in the new suit on the ground and then Starlight standing securely behind Benjamin, her lips curved into her standard, practiced smile.
"Mr. Soldier Boy, regarding Starlight’s suit, I can explain—"
"Explain what?"
Benjamin turned around. His voice wasn’t loud, but he cut her off instantly.
"Explain how you dress a superhero up like a goddamn whore, a stripper? She’s in her early twenties, fought her way all the way from Des Moines to New York, passed every single layer of your screenings, and beat out how many competitors just to stand here? She has superpowers, she has guts—motherfucker, just the night before last she beat down two harassers with her bare hands. And then you tell her—no, your abilities don’t matter, your courage doesn’t matter, you have to flash your tits for the audience first? Why don’t you come to work naked?"
Madelyn’s corporate smile froze completely.
"This is the result of market research. Female superhero merchandise sales—"
"Don’t give me that market research bullshit," Benjamin glared dead at her. "If you’re so fucking capable, have you ever designed a plunging V-neck suit for A-Train? Have you ever had Translucent wear a thong on camera? Or let Homelander go rescue people naked for a shoot? Why the fuck does Starlight have to dress like a goddamn hooker? Because she’s a woman? Because you think a woman’s body is worth more than her actual capabilities? Fuck you!"
Madelyn forcefully suppressed her rising fury.
Benjamin barked, "Ashley."
Ashley, who had been cowering by the doorway, practically sprung into the room. "Here!"
"Starlight’s suit stays exactly like her original design. She wears whatever the fuck she wants. If anyone tries to make an issue out of her body again, I’ll throw their desk straight out of the fifty-sixth floor."
"Yes, yes, sir," Ashley nodded like a woodpecker. "Handling it right away, immediately."
Madelyn wanted to say something, parting her lips, but under Benjamin’s heavy stare, she ultimately snapped her mouth shut. She turned and marched out of the office, her face absolute iron, the click of her high heels hitting the floor twice as loudly as usual. But Benjamin didn’t waste a single spare glance on her.
Starlight stood in the corner, watching Soldier Boy use the crudest language to speak her absolute mind. He said her abilities matter, her courage matters, she herself matters—not her tits, and not the corporate hype. Hearing these words, each one sounded as rough as sandpaper, but they burned inside her ears until she felt like crying. Her eyes were still red, but it was no longer out of grievance.
"Thank you, Mr. Soldier Boy."
"Go be a real superhero. If anyone dares to threaten you, come find me—as long as what you’re doing is right."
Starlight nodded. She was incredibly grateful Vought International had Soldier Boy.
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A/N: Next goal: 150 Power Stones = 1 bonus Chapter!
And if you want to read ahead and find out what happens next right away, you can get up to 20 Chapters ahead on my p@tr~on:
[email protected]/ForgottenDaoist (@ = a, link is in my profile).
