Reversible Luxury-Touch Bomber




Reversible Luxury-Touch Bomber

Reversible Luxury-Touch Bomber

A fully reversible, lightweight bomber jacket, made in our 100% cotton Luxury-Touch fabric for a soft feel and reliably polished look.













Riverdale Season 2 Poster Highlights an Ominous Message




Riverdale Season 2 Poster Highlights an Ominous Message

Riverdale Season 2 Poster Highlights an Ominous Message

The latest poster for Riverdale season two reminds you to keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.

The new poster for the show’s second season features the core cast — including K.J. Apa, Lili Reinhart, Camila Mendes and Cole Sprouse — at the show’s iconic Pop’s Chock’lit Shoppe location, but that’s not all. Behind them, the diner’s neon sign reads the word “die,” suggesting the series will carry forward the murder mystery aspect of its first season.









This Trailer for The Disaster Artist May Be the Best Bad Trailer in History




Disaster Artist Trailer

This Trailer for The Disaster Artist May Be the Best Bad Trailer in History

Back in March when The Disaster Artist debuted at SXSW, I lovingly declared it the most James Franco thing James Franco has ever done…









Empowered: Deleted & Alternate Scenes, Part 2

Empowered: Deleted & Alternate Scenes, Part 2



The return of Empowered deleted scenes! Here, we have an expanded take on Carl’s interactions with Mesmer on their first day of school, his first fight with Spore, and finding out Wing’s in his gym class, along with an alternate version of the Act 2 intro, which was aborted like a prom night baby. Here they are for you to (possibly) enjoy. Remember: Random notes in bold denote unfinished bits that I planned on getting back to before the section was scrapped.

Car with Mesmer:

Finally able to get her two youngest children in the car, Insight was bringing the two to their respective schools, Mesmer in the passenger seat and Carl sprawled out in the back.

“Excited for the first day of 8th grade, little man?”

“Oh yeah, I’m gonna charm all the girls in my grade in to going out with me.”

“With real charm or your powers.”

“Powers. Real charm is for chumps!”

“Atta boy!”

“Don’t be a fool, Mesmer!” Insight scorned, “You know the they have a strict policy against that. And don’t even try it on your teachers. The mental shielding regimens they go through…”

“Yeah, ma, we know, we know. You tell him every year.”

“And yet he doesn’t seem to listen,” she said as she pulled in front of the junior high. “Okay, M, you got all your things?”

“Yes, mom.”

“Okay, give your mama a kiss good-bye.”

“Mom! My friends are watching!” he yelled, horrified. “I’ll just see you later!” Grabbing his bag, he hopped out of the car and slammed the door, not taking a moment to look back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gym Class Villains:

This seemed to not be completely integral to me, and it just dragged down the story of the first day. Plus, it felt too much of a rehash of the previous scenes with Wing (the dance and the mall), and making trying to show for a third time what the boy’s presence meant to Carl seemed redundant.

The rest of the day progressed as one would expect the first day to, super-powered high school or not: Names were called, seats were assigned, homework was given, and girls were mercilessly ogled.

Up until gym, the day had proceeded just fine. Now sitting on the bleachers in the gym, the same one that, just a few days before, had been converted to a makeshift dance hall, he saw about four dozen juniors and seniors, girls and guys alike, fill up the seating. No one he was really good friends with, unfortunately.

As Mr. Woods, who was also the gym teacher in addition to their homeroom monitor, called out names for attendance much liked he did earlier that morning. Carl did as he had been doing all day and waited for the ‘Fs.’

“Carl Freeman.”

“Here.”

He then went back to thinking about nothing really at all.

“Glacier Green.”

“Here.”

CARL’S THOUGHTS

“Fractal Hall.”

“Here.”

CARL’S THOUGHTS, WHICH ARE THEN INTERRUPTED

“Wing Kong.”

Carl’s heart skipped a beat, and once again in that cold, metallic, diction, he heard: “Here.”

Like a goddamned robot, man.

Out of the corner of his eye, he peered at Wing, once again with Decibel at his side. He saw Wing finish a story, and without delay, give a pompous flick of his head, his shaggy-yet-styled black hair being flung back, and the student let out a disingenuous laugh at his own story.

Prick.

Luckily, just because they had gym the same period didn’t mean they’d be in the same class; it all depended on what you picked for that term. Carl was relieved to find out a few days later that, he was free of Wing for at least the first half of the year, as he wasn’t in either his current gym class or health class in the corresponding off-days. He was free of that asshole until at least January.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Carl & Spore’s First Fight

And while things had been going well, today was a new first. It was there first fight.

“I don’t want to go to the art show,” Carl moaned on the phone. “It’s going to be so boring. Why can’t we just stay in and watch a movie instead?”

“We always stay in and watched a movie,” she said, annoyed. “There’s a whole world out there, you know.”

“I know, it’s just that…”

Carl paused, realizing he didn’t have a good excuse not to go.

“It’s just that it’s going to be so boring,” he repeated.

“It’s important to me.”

He let out a minor huff and stated, “Fine. I’ll go.”

“I’ll just go with my sister.”

“I just said I’d…”

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

*click*

“I’m in trouble, aren’t I?” Carl murmured to himself. He then looked at his phone and struggled with whether or not he should text Spore. Although he knew a painfully tiny amount about women, the one thing he did know was to back off when.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alternate Act 2 Intro

It was the end of January, and the bell had just rung, signaling the end of another school week. The week before had been midterms, making this one feel as if it were nothing.

The lab that they had just performed was somewhat significant; it was the last one before the choosing of new partners as the new semester started on Monday. Now grabbing their supplies, Carl, Spore, El, and Octane all began their exit out of the classroom.

“Thank God I won’t have to see you two making googly-eyes at each other from across your table anymore.”

“Aw, Carl, I think someone’s jealous.”

“Bro, bro, bro, bro, how could you be jealous when you have me?” Octane asked, pretending to be insulted. Then putting his hand under his chin, he put pressure on it and let out a series of pops with the sound of a firecracker being let off. He proceeded to do the same to the other side.

Letting out a shudder at the noise, El replied, “No. Not jealous at all.”

“Hey, I have to run to the computer lab to work on the yearbook layout. See you later tonight, right?” Spore asked.

“Absolutely.”

“Okay,” she said, leaning in for another kiss, “see you later, babe.”

“Bye, babe.”

“Later,” El added.

“Peace,” Octane threw in with a slight wave of his hand.

Waiting until she was out of earshot, El, annoyed, turned to Carl and stated, “I thought we were going to the movies tonight, man.”

“Ah, shit, I meant to tell you. We’re having dinner at my house tonight.”

His annoyance growing, he responded, “I thought you were having dinner with her tomorrow.”

“Yeah, well…” Carl paused for a moment, knowing El wouldn’t like what he was about to hear, “that’s our anniversary dinner. My mom’s off today, and she just to do something for us.”

“Huh,” El replied, licking his gums and looking off to the side, partially vexed, partially hurt.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“If you wanna say something, man, just say it.”

Now outside and in the school parking lot, El responded, “It’s nothing.” Before taking off in his trademark *swish*, he added, “Have fun. Babe.”

“What was that about?” Carl asked to Octane once El was long gone.

“Are-are-are you a ‘tard?”

“What? He’s ditched me plenty of times to hang out with girls.”

“Like when?”

“Like…” Carl then paused, thinking. “Well, I’m sure he has.”

“Dude, you gotta do wha-what-what you feel is right. I-I-I make time for both you guys and Blitz. It’s tough, but ya need to find that balance.”

“Yeah. Well after this weekend, I will. Promise.”

“I believe, ya, big C. I’m out, though. Have a good one.”

“You too, man.”

And with a *zip*, Octane was gone. Carl stood there and stewed in his thoughts. The more he thought about it, the less he felt that he was wrong. If El were his friend, he should want him to do what makes him happy.

Just that moment, Carl heard the sound of flapping above him, and looked up to see Wing soaring gracefully in the sky, the light radiating on him as the teen flew home.

Carl grimaced as he walked towards his second-hand mint green Saturn.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey Carl,” a squeaky voice from behind him said fifteen seconds after he had entered his house.

Turning around to see Mesmer, Carl responded, “Yo, little man. What’s good?”

“Do you wanna go to the comic store with me?” Mesmer asked eagerly.

“Ah, I’d love to, bud, but Spore’s coming by later and I wanna get washed up.”

“Oh.”

“You’ll understand in a few years when you start dating. But maybe next week? Next few days are probably gonna be busy.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

“See ya, little man,” Carl stated, rubbing his little brother on the head as he went to walk up the stairs.”

“See ya, Carl.”

Mesmer looked at the ground disappointed.

Having overheard the conversation, Insight sympathetically replied, “I can take you a little later, hon.”

“It’s okay, mom.”

“You sure, sweetie?”

“Yeah. Thanks, mom.”

Insight stared poignantly as her youngest disappeared from view to go up the stairs. With their father gone, Carl was the only male figure he has in the house; he should act like it.

It was a talk that would have to wait for another time, she thought. Let him enjoy the weekend.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At 6 PM, the doorbell rang, and Insight went to let Spore in.

“Hello, dear,” she said, giving Spore a hug.

“Hey, Mrs. Freeman. It smells great in here!”

“Oh, you already have my approval, hon. No need to lie.”

“Stop, you know you’re a great cook.”

“I do, but…” Insight then stopped herself as she felt an odd twinge radiating off of Spore.

“Is everything alright, hon?”

“Oh, yeah. Things are great! Why?”

Insight held a curious gaze on for only a moment and replied, “Just making conversation while we wait for my lazy son to get down here. Carl!” she yelled, turning to the stairs. “Spore’s here, and dinner’s almost ready!”

“I’ll be down in two seconds!”

“That son of a mine. You bring your appetite?”

“Always do! Do you need help setting up?”

“No, but thank you, dear. You can just sit and relax.”

Carl came barreling down the stairs and met Spore with a kiss, making sure his mom wasn’t in view to see.

DINNER. INSIGHT KEEPS GLANCING OVER AT SPORE. SHE REALIZES THAT SOMETHING’S WRONG

“Hey, so have you given any thought to what I talked to you about?”

“Ah, yeah. The trip? Some thought…”

“And?”

“I don’t think I really have the money.”

“What about what you’ve made at work?”

“It’s not a whole lot. Plus, I wanted to save up for a BLANK anyway.”

“You always do this.”

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while. I think we should go on a break.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So did I make the right call in cutting those out, or should they have been left in? It felt to me that Act 1 was beginning to drag, and it was best for the flow of the story to leave them out. Good idea? Bad idea? Let me know on Facebook or Twitter! I have one more post’s worth of deleted and alternate scenes, as well as commentary coming soon.

And if you’ve been reading my updates, you’ll know the A Wolf In Shepherd’s Clothing(#AWiSC) is underway! Outlining is more or less finished, and I’ve begun writing the opening section! Exciting stuff for sure, you guys. See you all soon!







Empowered: Deleted & Alternate Scenes, Part 1

Empowered: Deleted & Alternate Scenes, Part 1



And we’re back from a bit of a hiatus! While my third story is currently in the works (still in the outlining stages, unfortunately), I wanted to present to you over the next few weeks some bonus material, like alternate/deleted scenes and commentary.

First up are two different takes on the way Carl and El’s breakfast the day after the Senior Mixer was intended to go. It was a going to be a much longer scene, but it never felt “right” to me, so I cut it out completely, opting instead for them to have a quick breakfast in the mall food court.

There’s also a brief scene of Carl and El screwing around in the park, which I realized served no real purpose, so I cut it. Also, Carl and El were to get pizza much earlier in the story, following up on the text Carl had sent him after their spat in the mall. I decided to move this to the end after their big fight. Some parts were also incorporated in to their morning homeroom scene on the first day of school.

Minor note: You’ll see things in bold, but you can more or less ignore those. I’d jump around in my writing, and those bolded lines are notes for later for sections that I wasn’t able to develop at the time.

Okay, enough of that. Let’s get this show on the road:

Breakfast, Take 1:

“Wake me up from a nice sleep, goddamn right breakfast is on you.”

“Sweet. Put some clothes on, and I’ll jump us over there.”

“No. I hate your ‘pick ups.’ Ma!” Carl yelled, “Can I use the car?”

“Where are you going, baby angel?”

He wish he had prefaced with ‘El is here.’

“EL IS HERE,” he yelled, embarrassed, “and we’re gonna get some breakfast!”

“Oh, I can make you boys something!”

“No, it’s fine!”

“Aw, come on, baby angel,” El said with a grin.

“What was that, Elcsum Gray?”

“Nothing, ma’am,” El said. He then whispered to Carl, “The ears on that woman.”

“Try livin’ with it.”

“Don’t y’all be fools, spending your money. Come down and I’ll whip you up some French toast, and I think we have some sausage, too.”

“Thanks, mom!” El called back. He then turned to Carl, “French toast! Sausage! Mom!”

“Why do you insist on being you?”

“Ms. Freeman!” El yelled to her, “Would you mind heating up the syrup?”

“Sure!”

“Syrup!” he exclaimed to Carl. “Anyway, speaking of hot, sticky things, me and Hourglass…”

“She good?”

“Yeah, man. Her powers made it last twice as long as normal. It was fucking awesome.”

“Oh, so you got to disappoint a girl for an entire minute this time, huh?”

“Best goddamn minute of her life! Anyway, what about you? You never went in to detail with that chick from last night.”

“Her name’s Spore; she’s new. She was there doing a photo assignment or something. Wants to be on the yearbook staff.”

“Yearbook staff? Yikes. Geek rejection is the worst kind of rejection. But hey, that’s what you get for trying to steal our womens.”

“Racism is fun, El.”

“Sure is!”

THEY NEED TO BULLSHIT FOR A FEW MORE MINUTES

“Boys! Breakfast is ready!”

“Yes! Food, food, food, food!”

THEY GO DOWN THE STAIRS

“Thanks a lot, Mrs. Freeman. It smells awesome.”

“Oh, of course. Gotta put some meat on you boys. Too skinny.”

“I’m trying to keep my lady-like figure.”

“Mom, can I borrow the car or not?”

“Are you going to drive the speed limit?”

“Yes, mom.”

“Carl P Freeman.”

There’s no use lying to a woman who’s a human lie detector, although that never stopped Carl from trying.

“I promise to…”

With her eyes narrowed and lips pursued, Ms. Freeman just stared. Carl knew it was better to just agree.

“I promise to actually go the speed limit.”

“Keys are in my purse, sweetie.”

NEED TO SHOW THAT THEY’RE EATING

“Elcsum, could you give us a moment?”

“Yes, ma’am. And thank you for breakfast. As always, it’s much appreciated.”

“Anything for the boy who actually gets this one out of the house.”

Breakfast, Take 2:

Walking outside, he saw El still fiddling with his hair in the window. “You look gorgeous,” Carl said, “Come on, get in the car.”

“Where do you wanna go?”

“Wherever’s close, I guess.”

Stopping at a nearest fast food joint for a breakfast of sausage, egg, and cheese on a biscuit, the two enjoyed their meal as they pondered what else to do.

“What do you want to do the rest of the day?” Carl asked, wiping crumbs from side of his mouth.

“Let’s be honest,” El replied with a shrug, “we’re in the suburbs, too young to do anything cool in the actual city, so…”

“Mall or movies?” Carl groaned.

Sighing in agreement, El responded, “Mall or movies.”

“What’s playing?”

“Sequels, remakes, and 3D re-releases.”

“Mall then?” Carl BLANK “I hate going there, man. All we do is walk around and not buy shit.”

“Of course we used to not buy shit. With what money? But now you’ve been busing tables, and I got my birthday money. Let’s get something nice to wear for Monday.”

Going to the Park:

“So where to?”

“I got a new Vortex. Toss it around at the park?”

“As long as it doesn’t mean you throwing it half a fuckin’ mile and making me run for it.”

“Oh, Carl. We both know I can’t promise that.”

GROANS AND STARTS THE CAR

“You know, for a guy with no athletic ability, you can throw the ball pretty damn far. Although it ends up flopping around like a ‘tard since you can’t get

a good spiral going.”

“Real nice, El.”

“What?”

THROWS BALL, CARL STILL NEEDS TO RUN FOR IT

Getting Pizza Take 1:

“Hey, what can I do for you two gentlemen?”

“One large…what do you want on it?”

“Everything.”

“Can you do half plain, half everything?”

“You’re so boring.”

“I am what I am.”

“Sure thing, boys. It’ll be a five minutes.”

THEY SIT DOWN

“I’m sorry, man.”

“We don’t have to talk about it. It is what it is.”

“I know, it’s just…”

“Dude, it’s fine. We’re big boys; we can move on. Anyway,” El began, eager to just change the subject, “you see they posted the schedules this morning?”

“No, shit?” he said, pulling out his phone. “On the school’s website?”

“Yeah,” El replied. “Here, compare and let me know if any line up.”

El then opened up to the page on his phone, already pre-loaded from looking at it earlier, and slid it across the table for Carl to see and compare.

“Anything?”

THINKING NOISE

“Ummm…yeah. Other than homeroom, environmental with Doc Drain.”

“That we knew; he’s the only one who teaches it. Nothing else?”

“Nah, doesn’t look it,” he said, sliding El’s phone back to him, “but we do got it at the end of the day, second-to-last period. So on non-lab days, we can just cut out early.”

“Sick.”

“You fuckin’ know it.”

PIZZA IS BROUGHT OUT

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“No problem. You boys enjoy. And watch it; food’s hot.”

“Thank you.”

Each grabbed a slice and quickly placing it on to their plate to cool. The internal struggle of waiting three minutes for it to be edible versus eating it out, to hell with the roof of your mouth commenced.

“Ah, fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!” they both yelled in unison.

Both boys now had their mouths open wide and were frantically sucking in air to cool off the pizza, which now felt like magma in their mouths.

Needless to say, waiting lost.

“So, we’re good, right?”

“Yes! Christ! Stop asking.”

“Just wanted to be sure, man.”

“Oh, dear Carl. Like I’d ever really let this friendship end. I still have fifty more hours of community service to perform.”

“Ah, that’s right. CARL HAS A COMEBACK”

“Ha, if you say so, bruddha. Now, important question: Did you stalk that chick yet?”

“Come on, man. Give me some credit.”

“Carl…”

“I may have done a quick search…”

“Carl…”

“There are four other Spores in the greater Los Angeles area; none of ‘em are under 18.”

“Good. Good.”

“It’s a mute point anyway, she…”

“Moot.”

“What?”

“It’s moot point, not mute point. Your point didn’t have its vocal chords ripped out or some shit.”

“Every time, man. Is that really necessary?”

“Sorry. Go on.”

“Anyway, it’s a MOOT point because she wasn’t in to me.”

“You don’t know that. You said she was doing some assignment, right? I mean, granted there’s the overwhelming likelihood that she was blowing you off because you’re you.”

“Naturally.”

“But it could be that she really did just want to do well on it.”

“Yeah…”

“But, I mean…she was probably blowing you off.”

“Appreciate, man. Thank you.”

“And thank you for the pizza!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That’s all! What’d you think? Were one of those breakfast scenes better than what was in there? Was it a good idea to split getting pizza in to the homeroom scene and when Carl and El finally made up?

As always, let me know on Facebookor Twitter. There will be more material that didn’t make the cut next week, so stay tuned!





Empowered: Act 3, Part 4

Empowered: Act 3, Part 4



Hello, everyone! Hope you’ve all had a great week. Mine was pretty goddamn awesome: Got to be the best man at my best friend’s wedding, which turned out to be one of the best nights of my life. I’m hoping a video of the speech turns up so I can share with you all. Until then, you’ll have to settle with another installment of Empowered. Can you believe that this is the second-to-last post of the entire story? I didn’t realize that I’ve been writing this since January. It doesn’t at all feel like more than half the year. I’ve loved every minute of it, and I hope those of you reading share my passion.

With that said, let’s get to it! The end begins.

“This is everything I’ve ever wanted and more,” El gushed.

“I thought you’d like it. So you’ll go?”

“Absolutely I’ll go. What’s with the sudden change of heart, though?”

“Wing’s pissed, and yeah he’s a dick who deserved getting that punch in the face, but it’s a problem I still caused. If he wants a goddamn showdown, then let’s have it. Maybe we can put all this shit to rest for good before it gets any worse.”

“All while wearing a baller ass tux, am I right?”

“When you’re right, you’re right.”

“I’m not putting out, ya know.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Good point. Ugh, what am I going to wear! Such little time to decide. Is coral in this season?”

“You’ll figure it out. And I’m glad you’re down.”

“I like it. And if he does decide to start anything, you know I’ll have your back,” El said. He then decided to add, “If you want it.”

“Always.”

“Good. Also, maybe we can get in on a limo with Ock and Blitz.”

“Actually, for old time’s sake, why don’t you just come pick me up?”

“I am loving this idea more and more with every word.”

“Figured you would.”

“Wanna check out tuxes tomorrow?”

“Actually, I think I know where I can get one of my own.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey, mom?” Carl asked while knocking on his mother’s door.

“Yes, dear?” she asked, looking up from the book she had been reading. It was a horror novel with the face of a werewolf on the cover, its maw drenched in blood.

“This is gonna sound like a weird question, but do you have any of dad’s old clothes?”

“His clothes? Why?”

“I decided to go to prom, and I didn’t know if he happened to have a tux or something.”

“Since when are you going to prom?”

“Since five minutes ago.”

“Did you and Spore get back together?”

“No.”

“Some other girl from class?”

“Uh…no.”

“Oh, so you’re just going by yourself?”

“Yeah…no.”

“Then who are you going with?”

“…El.”

“Oh…oh.”

“I mean, we’re not…”

“I’ve always said he was overcompensating with those girls,” Insight mumbled to herself.

“What? No! We’re just goin’ as friends. Not like that.”

“I’d still love you all the same, hon.”

“We’re not gay!”

“Okay, dear. But if you were…”

“Mom!”

“Oh, I’m just kidding with you. Now, as far as tuxes go, let’s check the attic.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ruffling through a worn cardboard box marked ‘Dad – dress clothes,’ Insight let out a loud “Ah!” as she found exactly what she was looking for. Slowly ascending from her crouched-down position, Insight carefully held up the charcoal gray tuxedo jacket that was Carl’s father’s from many years ago.

“Here we go,” she said with a smile on her face. Holding in front of Carl’s chest to see the comparison, she added, “I may have to take it in a bit; your father had such broad shoulders. But I think it’ll fit just fine.”

“Awesome.”

“Come on. Pants should be in there, too. Grab them and let’s try everything on.”

After spending a few minutes getting dressed, Carl exited his room, now fully adorned with the gray tuxedo, white button-up shirt, and deep purple tie, ready for his mother’s critique.

“Oh, Carl,” she gasped with a tear forming in her eye and a smile forming across her face. “You look just like him.”

Returning with a smile of his own, Carl simply replied, “Thanks, mom.”

“When did my little boy because a handsome young man?”

“Scary, ain’t it?”

“You have no idea, Carl.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

With a tuxedo procured and tickets purchased, Carl was more than ready for the prom. And without warning, the next couple weeks breezed right by, and the big night was upon him.

“Lookin’ swanky, baby brother,” Iris said as she snapped pictures of him in their living room.

“Thanks, ‘Ris,” Carl replied.

“So, since El’s pickin’ you up, can I borrow your car tonight?”

As Carl reached in to his pocket with every intention of loaning Iris his keys, he found himself holding on to them for a few seconds longer. And in those few seconds, he came to a decision.

“You know what? Since I’m going away to college in a few months…” he said as he tossed Iris his keys, “why don’t you take care of the car for me?”

“Are you shittin’ me?,” she asked staring at the keys that were now cupped in her hands. “ ‘Cause if this is a joke, I swear to God I’ll microwave the shit out of your brain.”

“I shit you not, ‘Ris. Plus you deserve it anyway.”

“Huh,” was all she could muster as she stared at the keys that were now in her hand. A wave of disbelief washed over her.

“Just don’t trash it too badly, okay? And I get to drive it whenever I come home for breaks.”

“Deal!” she yelled as she went over to hug Carl. “Thanks, Carl,” she whispered.

“Yeah, no problem,” he said as they parted. He then looked at the ground for a moment before responding again.

“I shoulda listened to you, ya know.”

Having a touch of her mother’s intuition, Iris understood immediately and replied, “I know. But it’s hard to get anything through that peanut head of yours.”

“Fair enough,” he said with a mild smirk.

“Thanks again, Carl. You didn’t have to.”

“I know, but I wanted to.”

“Now I gotta be nice to you and shit,” Iris responded facetiously.

Carl merely smiled at her, letting his dark brown eyes, full of warmth at the sight of his sister’s joy, say everything he needed.

“I’m gonna go upload the pictures. Have a fun night, alright?”

“Aight. Thanks again, ‘Ris.”

“Any time, baby brother,” she replied with a smile. Iris then turned around and sped upstairs. In the meanwhile, she switched the application on her phone from the camera to her contacts and immediately dialed Wavelength. From the next floor up, Carl could clearly hear, “Yo, Wave! You won’t guess what I just got!”

“That was a very nice thing you did, Carl,” Insight said as she walked in to the living room.

“Thanks, mom. It felt right, ya know?”

Smiling back, she simply said, “I know.”

“Hey, mom…do I have a peanut head?”

“Hm,” she began while examining her son. “No, it’s too pointy to be a peanut. More almond shaped if anything.”

Carl closed his eyes and groaned as he felt the top of his head in an attempt to reassure himself that it’s a normal shape. As he did, Insight leaned in and gave him a kiss on the forehead.

“My handsome young man,” she said.

*bzzzzz* *bzzzzz* *bzzzzz*

“Ah, that’s El,” Carl said as he looked at the text he just received on his phone. “I gotta go. He’s gonna be here in a minute.”

“Okay, sweetie. Have a good night.”

“I will, and, um…thanks, mom.”

“For what?”

“I don’t know…everything? I…”

Like her daughter moments ago, Insight knew inherently what Carl wanted to say but didn’t know how to. Instead of letting him fumble over his words, Insight went up and gave her son a strong hug.

“It’s what I do, sweet boy.”

“I love you, mom.”

“I love you, too, Carl. Now go and have fun.”

“I will. Goodnight, ma,” he said as he exited the house.

“Call me when you get there!” she yelled to him as the door shut.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*thunk*

“ ’Sup, gorgeous?” El asked he landed in front of Carl, swishing his golden hair out of his eyes as he did so. El, in addition to a classic black tux embellished with a red vest and matching tie, was wearing an enormous grin on his face. He was clearly ecstatic for the night.

“ ‘Sup, my man?” Carl responded as the two high-fived. “Lookin’ good.”

“Ain’t lookin’ too bad yourself, bud. But we can blow each other later; we’re running late.”

“Aight, let’s hop to it then.”

“Literally.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*swish*

“So what are you gonna do if and when Wing looks to start something?”, El asked after about fifteen minutes of *swishing* and *thunking*.

“Don’t know. Just gotta deal with it as it comes. I escalated shit more than I should’ve, and I’m not gonna seek the dude out for a confrontation, but if it happens, it happens, ya know?”

*thunk*

*swish*

“But whatever happens, though, I know you got my back.”

“Always,” El answered as they landed in front of The Manor House, the charming, picturesque venue that was chosen to host the school’s prom night.

“No line,” Carl remarked. “Everyone must be inside already.”

“Yeah, man. Told you we were running late. Let’s sign in and get in there.”

The two walked towards the sign in table, which was guarded by an elderly gentleman and his pad and pencil. “Name, please?” he asked

“You can’t be serious!” El exclaimed.

“Name, please?”

“We’re in your class!”

“Name, please?”

“Gray! Elcsum-freaking-Gray! And Carl-freaking-Freeman!”

“Tickets, please?”

“Here ya go,” Carl said in a much calmer voice, handing them over to the teacher.

“Thank you. Please enjoy the senior prom. If you leave…”

“…you can’t come back in,” the three of them said in unison.

“After you,” Carl said to El, who opened the door to the gigantic hall, adorned with the school’s colors of blue and gold while music played from a speaker system.

Before Carl himself walked in, he turned back for a moment and asked, “Hey, Doc?”

“Hm?”

“Is, um…do you happen to remember if…”

“Ms. Summers isn’t in there, Mr. Freeman.”

“Oh, yeah, I mean, I was just…”

“Enjoy the dance, son,” Doc Drain replied with a sharp look the rarely accompanied his cadence.

“Will do,” Carl said before turning and going in to the hall himself. And moments after Carl caught up with El, a familiar sight was upon them.

“Well, well, well. Look at these handsome gentlemen here,” Octane said as he zipped up to them, camera firmly in hand. “Guys, say something for the camera.”

“Mrs. Rice, if you’re watching this…I’m legal in a month,” El replied as he stared in to the lens.

“Welp, that’s going to have to get edited out,” Octane grumbled.

“Ock, where’s are our table at?” Carl asked.

“Back left over there,” Octane said while nonchalantly pointing to the general area of their seats. “Just look for Blitz.”

“Oh, I think I see her,” El replied. “She’s the pissed-off-looking brunette sitting by herself, right?”

“Yeah, that-that-that sounds about right,” Octane replied. “Alright, let’s go. Food should be out in a minute.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the group of friends sat down at their table, Ms. Hawkins took to the microphone on stage and stated, “Hello, everyone. I hope you’re having as wonderful a time as I am! The band is scheduled to go on a bit later, but until then, let’s all continue to enjoy the DJ stylings of Yawn Patel!” she exclaimed, motioning to Yawn who had been providing the music for the dance up until this point. “Enjoy your meals and have a great rest of the night!”

“You guys didn’t see Wing anywhere, did you?” Carl asked to his friends as they finished their food.

“Nah, guess he’s a no-show,” Octane replied.

With a mouthful of food, El added, “Dude’s a total pussy.”

Carl nodded in acknowledgment, neither relieved nor dismayed. He then felt his damp forehead and said, “Aight, well, it’s hot as shit in here. I’m gonna step out for a second.”

Octane, who had once again began filming with the camera, turned to Carl and said, “Alright. There’s a back exit by the bathroom. Just-just-just don’t let Double-D see you, and you should be straight.”

Giving a slight nod of acknowledgement, Carl exited to bask for a few minutes in the cool night air before returning back to the dance. Unknowingly, Octane captured his departure.

After he left, El turned towards Octane and stated, “Yo, Ock. Lemme see what you got so far.”

“Here-here-here ya go,” Octane replied, handing over the video camera and instructing him on what to do. “Here: This is the view screen, and this button here let’s you rewind.”

Hitting the button, El was forced to pause it within mere moments as his eyes grew wide.

“What-what-what’s wrong?”

Rewinding the tape back a few seconds and pausing it, El tilted the viewing screen to Octane and stated, “Okay, here you see Carl going outside, right?”

“Yeah,” Octane acknowledged.

“Okay, well…” El said before hitting the play button. Within two seconds, he hit the pause button again, “…who does that look like following right behind him?”

Although Octane had begun turning the camera away at the time, it was clear in that split second of video who was right behind their friend.

“Ah-ah-ah…”

“…fuck.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Carl leaned on the sturdy brick facade, he let the night air flow in and out of his nostrils. He’d plan to stay outside for another minute or two, hoping the sweat collected on his chest and back would somewhat subside by then.

Without forewarning, Carl heard a *creeeeaaaaaaak* followed by a loud *SLAM*, indicating that he now had company.

“I hope you didn’t let Doc Drain see you, or else we’re both…” Carl began saying as he looked over to the student who had just exited. He stopped immediately upon seeing who it was.

“Hello, Imp,” Wing stated coldly.

“…screwed.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TO BE CONCLUDED

A final confrontation. Will Carl come out a hero? Find out in a week. And come say good-bye to El, Octane, Spore, Wing, and, of course, Carl P. Freeman.

How will it all end?






Empowered: Act 3, Part 3

Empowered: Act 3, Part 3



Sorry for the delay with this post, everyone! Work’s been nuts, but thankfully I think things will finally stabilize and finish this story in a timely manner. Carl’s slowly fixing his life and getting his house in order, and in this next post, he has a revelation that will drastically change the course not only of this story but of his life as well.

Sound interesting? Then keep reading. Time for Act 3, Part 3 of Empowered!


“Good to see you two talking again,” Octane said to Carl and El after class the following Monday.

“Yeah, Carl finally took out his tampon and we made up,” El replied, shooting Carl a devious grin.

“Well, it was lodged up there pretty high,” Carl said in mock defense.

“Fu-fu-fucking gross,” Octane replied in disgust. “Now I have a mental image of you fishing out…fuck, you know what? Cha-cha-cha-changing the subject. I told Mrs. Prince what you said about filming prom and making that the end of the senior video. She thought it was a great idea. Nice job.”

“I have my moments,” Carl said modestly.

“Few and far between, but I guess you were due for one,” El added.

“You two definitely not going?” Octane asked, pushing the school doors open and exiting the building.

“Probably just gonna chill,” Carl replied.

“Too bad,” Octane remarked. “Gonna be pretty sweet.” Looking over at El, who pulled out the remote to unlock his car, Octane then asked, “You-you-you drove today?”

“It’s too goddamn hot to jump to school. I don’t know how you don’t pass out from running in this heat.”

“Short bursts, lots of water, and not being a pussy all help.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

“Easier said than done. He is a pretty huge pussy,” Carl added.

“You are what you eat lots and lots of,” El said with a grin. “Anyway, speaking of prom, Blitz isn’t gonna mind you basically doing schoolwork the entire night?”

“Wo-wo-won’t be the whole night. Plus, I’d be able to manage both her and the project.”

“Hope so for your sake,” Carl replied.

“El, you tell him about Wing?” Octane asked as he cocked his head towards Carl.

“He did,” Carl said, answering for his friend, “and that’s another reason I don’t wanna go. If the dude’s lookin’ to start shit, then why bother?”

“True, but that shouldn’t stop you from going to what’s basically a big end-of-high school party.”

“Eh, I’m sure we’ll get over it. Let’s be honest; high school ending is its own damn celebration.” Turning to face the school’s exterior, Carl then added, “Can’t wait to get the hell out of this place.”

“Oh, it hasn’t been that bad,” El rejoined, rolling his eyes. “We had some good times.”

“Yeah, like that time Spore surgically attached testicles to my heart and kicked them there repeatedly.”

Musing about what that’d entail, Octane nodded and remarked, “That’d be funnier if it didn’t sound so damn pathetic.”

“Yeah, you just gotta get over that, man,” El replied. “The ‘woe-is-me grace period’ is over. You’re now entering the ‘if you don’t stop crying over it, I’m going to punch you in the balls period.’ ”

“Just sayin’, guys. You know I’m a lot better now, but she’s still on my mind.”

“Yeah, well, that’s another reason we’re not going, isn’t it? Ain’t got no biddies to bring,” El added.

“Yeah, alright, true. Alright, bros, I’m-I’m-I’m out.”

“Later, man,” Carl responded.

“Later, boss,” El added.

Shortly after Octane left, Carl and El similarly parted ways. On his drive home, Carl reflected upon their conversation: The three of them hanging out, making stupid jokes at each other’s expense…things were starting to feel like old times again.

But at the same time, it felt different; it felt better. He and El were able to connect on a new level, and he saw a side of Octane he never realized was there. His friends had this depth that he never knew existed, and he had no idea how it took him so long to see that. They were well-rounded people with their own struggles and feelings and lives that extended beyond what Carl saw.

Carl also realized this didn’t extend to only his friends.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Coming straight home, Carl walked up the stairs in his room, thinking how nice it was that, for a change, he had no real homework to do and no tests to study for. The year – and his entire high school career – was winding down fast.

Before turning in to his room, he noticed Mesmer’s door was slightly ajar. Peering in, he saw his little brother sitting Indian style on the floor, his back pressed up against his bed. In his hands was a single issue of a comic. Carl was unable to make out the title.

“Hey, little man,” Carl said as he knocked on his brother’s door and slowly pushed it open.

“Hey, Carl,” Mesmer responded without looking up, clearly enthralled by the comic.

“Whatcha doin’?”

“Readin’ comics.”

“What one?”

Instead of responding, Mesmer tilted the comic so it was perpendicular with the floor, giving Carl full view of its title and cover.

“What’s Marvel Boy?” he asked.

“He’s an alien. His spaceship was shot down over Earth, and everyone on board but him was killed. Like his friends and family and stuff. He ends up going nuts and declares war on Earth.”

“By himself?”

“Yeah.”

“Sounds kinda sweet.”

“He’s real cool. I actually read this issue about a hundred times.”

“What’s so good about it?”

“Well, this monster thing that was a prisoner on his ship escaped when it crashed, and it’s now wrecking New York City. But he knows that he needs to do the right thing and stop it before anyone got hurt.”

“Why not just let it wreak havoc, though? I thought he declared war.”

“Because he’s not really a bad guy or anything, and he doesn’t actually wanna see anyone hurt. He’s just all angry and alone. But I think most of all is he knows that whether or not it was his fault, this monster thing was loose and no one else was gonna stop it. He’s reluctant, but he knows that he’s gotta, like, face it and do what’s right.”

“Damn, sound pretty sick.”

“Wanna read it when I’m done?”

“Actually, I was gonna go to the comic shop today anyway,” Carl lied. “Maybe I’ll pick up my own copy. You wanna come? All your shit’ll be on me.”

“Really?” Mesmer asked with his left eyebrow cocked with incredulity.

“Yeah, little man. Come on, before I change my mind.” Then turning his head away from his brother and out the doorway, Carl yelled to his mom, “Ma! Gonna take Mesmer to the comic shop! We’ll be back before dinner!”

“Don’t stay out too late!” she yelled back.

“You ready? Get your shoes on and let’s go,” Carl said.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You really don’t gotta take me if you don’t want to,” Mesmer said as they drove to the shop.

“Nah, man. I want to. When was the last time we just chilled, you and me?”

“Years,” Mesmer said as he looked out the window.

“Yeah, well, that’s my point. Time me and you do some broin’ out. And…” Carl began, not sure how to finish his statement. Finally, he continued, “and I haven’t been the best brother ever. It’d be kinda nice to change that.”

“Yeah, you haven’t,” Mesmer agreed.

“ ‘Yeah’?” Carl repeated, slightly amused. “You ain’t gonne be all like ‘No, Carl! You’re great! Don’t be so hard on yourself!’ and all that?”

“No, you kinda sucked a lot of the times,” Mesmer said, also amused. “But you’re buying me comics, so I think we’re good.”

“It’s a brand new day, little man,” Carl remarked as he made a right in to the store’s parking lot.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Keeping to his word, Carl let Mesmer pick up a whole stack of comics, thankfully most from the quarter bin. The happiness on Mesmer’s face as he lugged the hoard to the cashier would be worth any cash Carl would have to spend that day.

When they got home, Mesmer eagerly bolted up the stairs and in to his bedroom, yelling “Thanks, Carl!” in his wake. Likewise, Carl went in to his own room and cracked open the hardcover collected edition of the Marvel Boy series that he had just purchased. As he rifled through the pages, he thought about what his brother had told him:

A monster let loose. No one else able to stop it. Reluctant hero’s responsibility.

Carl closed the book and looked down. A grin danced cross his face. It started small, but as he mused more and more upon the idea that just popped in his head, his grin grew wider and wider. Before he knew it, he was laughing heartily to himself.

After a few seconds, he regained composure. Almost immediately, he took out his phone and called El.

He’ll love this.

“Yo, Carl, what’s up?”

“Elcsum Gray?”

“Uh…yeah?”

“Would you be my date to prom?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TO BE CONTINUED

With Carl asking El to the dance, things have come full circle. And with El as his prom date (spoiler alert: he agrees to go), they’re guaranteed to have, at the very least, a memorable night.

There’s only two more posts left before the story finishes! When all’s said and done, the entire tale will be about 120-plus pages…enough to get it published, perhaps? Think it can be done? Any feedback you’d like to give before I pursue that? Then, as always, let me know on Facebook or Twitter! We’re almost finished, and I thank all of you who’ve stuck along with me so far!







Empowered: Act 3, Part 2

Empowered: Act 3, Part 2



So I haven’t been able to update as frequently as I’d like, but that’s because I’ve been incredibly busy at work. But guess what? It’s paid off in the form of a promotion. That’s exciting news for sure, and what’s also exciting is Carl not being such a whiny bitch anymore. He’s ready to turn things around, and the first stop is Elcsum Gray. But can that fence be mended? Find out now!


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Putting down his pen and closing the cover, Carl tucked his notebook – a personal tome of his father – on his bookshelf next to those stories of wizards and warriors, instead of hiding it away his his desk drawer. It would serve as constant reminder of who his true hero is and always will be.

His mom said she reminded him of his father; it’s time he started acting like it.

Rubbing his face to try to subvert any tears that may form, he reached in to his top drawer to pull out his cell phone. He unlocked the phone, scrolled right to his contacts application, down to ‘E,’ and hovered his thumb over his best friend’s name. As it wavered precariously over the screen of his phone, Carl’s mind became flooded with thoughts:

What if he don’t actually wanna talk? What if Ock’s wrong and El’s happy with the way things are? Shit, if he did wanna talk, why hasn’t he made even the slightest attempt to? If…

…if I wasn’t so afraid, this’d be easier.

Exhaling deeply, he put his phone in his pocket and laid down on his bed. As he stared at the ceiling, he asked himself one question:

What would El do if he fucked up as bad as I did?

He pondered for a moment before springing up from bed. Like his mom said, what El would do is act confident if he weren’t. If Carl were to fix their friendship, he’d need to be strong for once in his life.

Grabbing the keys to his car, he sped over to his friend’s house, but not before making a quick stop along the way. His heart thudded with nervousness as he pulled up and parked on the street, noticing that only El’s car was in the driveway.

Walking up the sidewalk and ringing the doorbell, he immediately heard footsteps approach the door. Carl’s heart skipped a beat for a moment; what was he going to tell him? Sure he was sorry, but what could he ever say to really make things right?

Guess I’ll have to wing it, Carl thought half a second before El opened the door.

The door opened with swift *woosh*, and immediately upon seeing him, Carl uttered, “El, I…”

*slam*

“…I’m sorry.”

Emphatically banging on the door, interspersing the knocks with “El!” and “Let me in!” but to no avail. Attempting a different method, he ran over to the backyard to face El’s open window.

“El!” he yelled, but with no reciprocation.

So he tried again.

“El! El! El! El!”

No response.

Now jumping with all his strength to try to have his voice carry farther in to his friends room, he began, “Fine! I know you don’t want to talk, but at least listen. El…I know I fucked up. I’m sorry, man. I’m a piece of shit. I don’t know what I can say or what I can do except tell you that you were right. I was…I am jealous of you, and it was wrong for me to feel that way. And if I had taken the time to ask more about you and how you’ve been doin’ with things and if you got any problems of your own, I woulda realized that you don’t have it perfect, either.

“But I didn’t…and then to make shit worse, I ditched you the second I got a girlfriend, even though you’re there for me rain or frickin’ shine any time I needed you. And then I topped it off by acting like you were the asshole and socked you right in the fuckin’ face. What the hell kind of person does something like that?”

Finally peeking his head slightly out of his window, El said his first words to Carl in months:

“A raging douchebag.”

“That about sums it up, don’t it?”

After a brief pause where both parties needed a moment to let things settle, El called out again, “I’ll be down in a second.”

Smiling, Carl sprinted over to the door to meet his friend.

“I missed you, man,” El replied after opening it to see Carl once more.

“You, too.”

“Are you done with all of it?”

“Yeah…yeah, I am. I, uh…I talked to Ock about some things. Dude can be pretty wise sometimes.”

“When he can actually get words out,” El said, allowing a minor smile to form.

Moving away from the door, El motioned for Carl to come in, and the two walked silently in to the kitchen.

“Hungry?”

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Carl said, lightly hitting himself in the head. “One sec.”

Running from the house and to his car, he rummaged through the back seat to retrieve a square white cardboard box and then jogged back to El’s door.

“Here’s the pizza I owed you,” Carl said with an unsure smirk.

“You’re a prince,” El replied. “Come on; let’s eat inside.”

“Just you here?”

“Yeah.”

“Word.”

Placing the pizza down on the kitchen island, the boys each pulled up a chair and sat down, grabbing a slice and putting it on a plate in front of them as they did.

“So for what happened to us…” Carl began, not certain about how to finish his sentence, “I don’t know if I can say sorry enough. Sorry and…thanks, as weird as that sounds.”

“Thanks for letting you hit me in the face?” El remarked with surprising levity.

“Ha…well, it started to help me realize, like you said, how much of a fuckin’ d-bag I was.”

“Well, you got it out of your system, let’s hope.”

“I wanted to say sorry right away, you know,” Carl said. “But I really just didn’t know how.”

“Yeah,” El remarked solemnly, wishing that Carl had.

“Face healed pretty quickly, though.”

“God wouldn’t allow me to not be pretty for too long,” El quipped, a devious grin now on his face.

“Still a dick,” Carl laughed, shaking his head.

Walking over, El outstretched his arms. “Come here.”

Sharing a hug, El replied, “Really did miss you, bud.”

“Same.”

“Okay, enough of that homo shit,” El joked, “there’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you for the past four months.”

“What’s that?”

“Just how good did it feel to pop Wing in the nose?”

“Really, really fucking good,” Carl answered, smiling.

“Ha! I can only imagine. But I hear he hasn’t let it go yet.”

“That right? What’d you hear?”

“Wants to fight you at prom. Figures they won’t expel him that close to graduation, and if he has the chance to embarrass you in front of all those people, he’s gonna do it.”

“Where’d you hear this?”

“Lax practice. Guys talk.”

“Well, too bad for him, I ain’t going to prom.”

“If not prom then some other time. Just be careful,” El warned.

“I will. You gonna go? I was just talking to Ock about it earlier tonight.”

“Me? No.”

“Really? I figured you’d be all over that.”

“To tell you the truth, man, I was pretty bummed these past few months and never bothered to get a date or a ticket. And now there isn’t anyone left to ask anyway.”

“Sorry, man. I actually got tickets if you want ‘em.”

“Don’t sweat it. We’ll bro out that night.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“So what have you been up to these past few months?” El asked.

“Readin’ a lot of comics. Playin’ a lot of video games.”

“Jerking it?”

“Constantly.”

“Business as usual then?”

“More or less. How ‘bout you?”

“Chillin’ with the guys. Seeing a lot of Ock lately. Yawn’s had some parties, too.”

“Guess you got our friends in the divorce,” Carl joked, referencing their falling out. But as the words escaped his lips and brushed pain across El’s face like paint on a canvas, Carl’s heart immediately dropped.

“El, man…shit. Ock told me what happened with your parents. I’m…”

“No, no…it’s cool,” El replied, hurt but not offended. “It’s for the best I realized.”

“Really? How so?”

“Just…they were really unhappy for a long time. And, yeah, I wanted them to stay together. But I guess I accepted that if I want them to truly be happy, then they’re gonna have to be apart for a while.”

“I…yeah. I never would’ve thought of it like that.”

“Yeah, I mean, it’s not like I figured it out right away. But one night, I was just laying there in bed, staring at the ceiling. And I was playing through all the scenarios in my head: Mom and dad getting back together, us going on a vacation, smiling, taking pictures, all that stuff. But the thought of it all just felt kinda empty, ya know? Like it was all just fiction. Because then I thought about how much they fought, how many times my dad would storm out of here after a big blow up, or how many times I caught my mom crying…I don’t know. I guess I realized I liked the idea of them together than them actually being together, ya know? I don’t really know how to explain it.”

“Makes a lot of sense actually,” Carl mumbled.

“So, yeah…been dealing with that, but it’s been alright. Life goes on, ya know?”

“Certainly hope so, man. So you hear back from any schools?”

“Yeah, I was between UCLA and UCB for a while, but I’m got in to the honors program at UCLA, so I think I’m gonna go there.”

“Still thinking pre-med?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Any idea what kind of medicine you’d wanna get into?”

“No clue. Too soon for that. You decide on your major yet?”

“Not too sure, either. Something in English, I guess. Like journalism.”

“That’d be pretty sweet,” El said as he took a big bite of the greasy cheese pizza that Carl had provided.

“Yeah, but who knows. Like you said, too soon to really know.”

“Well, whatever you go with, you’ll be great.”

“Thanks, man. So, you ever end up bangin’ Glacier?”

“Nah, man. All she wanted to do was make out. Like constantly. Just kiss. Some junior high bullshit.”

“You poor bastard.”

“I know! What about you, though? Any new girls?”

“Nah.”

“Have you spoken to Spore at all?”

“No. As much as I’ve wanted to, I was just too depressed and too ashamed. I, uh…I didn’t handle the breakup too great.”

“You don’t say…”

“Ha, I was just talkin’ to Ock about that, too. I mean, I’d be lying if I said I still don’t think about her, but I guess I just realized that, looking back on the whole thing…”

“…you liked the idea of it better.”

“Something like that.”

The two boys shared a poignant smile and continued to eat their pizza.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


TO BE CONTINUED


We’re slowly dwindling to a close! Though his friendship with El has been revived, will Carl have the power to fix the rest of his life? And what about this threat from Wing? Prom’s a few short weeks away, and even though Carl might not be going there, something’s definitely going down.

See you next time for another installment of Empowered!





Empowered: Act 3, Part 1

Empowered: Act 3, Part 1



Hello, all! I present to you the long-awaited (?) premiere to the final act of Empowered! After spending a month as, well, a little bitch, Carl’s finally getting his life back on track. He’s got a long road ahead, but his journey will soon be coming to an end…for better or for worse.

So sit back and enjoy. The end begins.


Months later.

It was now early May, and Carl was more alone than he had ever been in his entire life. Having learned of the fight with Wing, the school gave Carl two weeks of out-of-school suspension and placed him in a different gym class. This didn’t do much to quell the feelings on either side; Carl and Wing continued to detest each other and would share looks of mutual antipathy whenever paths were crossed.

The worst part about that, however, wasn’t the animosity; it was that Wing was one of the few people who still acknowledged his existence.

Octane continued to play mediator; he chose no sides between Carl and El as the pair hadn’t spoken since the day of the fight. Spore, too, was effectively out of his life. She had become an expert at focusing intently on a point in the distance any time they walked passed each other. To her, Carl had become another face in the crowd.

Carl knew that he screwed up. He knew everything was a mess. And he knew he that he had become his own worst enemy.

But what he didn’t know was how he was supposed to fix it.

He wanted to apologize to El. He wanted to make things right by Spore. He wanted it all to go back to how it used to be…but something held him back. Any time he went to pick up the phone to dial a number, the thought of uttering the words ‘I’m sorry’ seemed like an impossibility. He pretended that it had been pride holding him back, but deep down he knew that he was just too afraid to try to make amends. If he tried and failed, then that would mean he’d truly had lost them both forever.

Even his notebook, which in the most desperate of times provided a small degree of solace, went untouched. Writing down what happened would make the reality of the situation too palpable. And even more so, he was too ashamed to let his dad ‘know’ what happened.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finishing up another day of school – one day closer to leaving it all behind – Carl walked in to his home. He was soon stopped by his mother.

“Sit,” she commanded succinctly while pointing with fierce intention at a kitchen chair.

“Mom, I don’t really want to…”

“I said sit!”

Taken aback by her tone, Carl did as he was asked and sat down at the kitchen island to face his mother.

“You, young man, have been throwing everything out of whack around this house these past few months, and it ends now.” Raising her fist straight up, she extended her forefinger and said, “First the anger and depression with Spore,” raising her middle finger, she added, “then not only the fight with that Asian boy, but with El, your best friend,” straightening out her ring finger, she then finished, “and now moping around this house, treating your family like people who live with you instead of people who love you…it needs to stop, Carl. I’m – we’re all – drowning in your negativity, and I’m sick of it.”

“Mom, just because you can ‘feel’ what I feel doesn’t mean you at all understand,” Carl remarked with an eye roll as he got up from the island and began to walk away.

“I did not say you could leave, young man!”

Carl, whose mother had rarely taken this kind of tone with him, looked at her with tinge of fear and sat back down.

“Carl,” she began, her voice placating, “I’ve always told you how special you. And you are, Carl. You really, really are. What you’ve had to deal with in your life, it’s not easy, and it’s not at all fair, no. But do you know how you’re not special? How you’re feeling. Everyone – and I mean everyone – has gone through this, Carl. The anger, the jealousy, the bitterness, the loneliness, the self-loathing…you’re not the first one to ever have to deal with it. You’re not even the only one of your friends who feels it.”

Before Carl had a chance to refute this, Insight continued.

“Do you know how inferior Elcsum feels all the time? Do you know how he feels the need to act a fool because he’s afraid people won’t like who he really is? He’s so concerned with what people think of him that he’s created this false persona that he thinks everyone would like. The jokes, the false confidence, the way he is with girls…it’s all an act.”

“You could tell all that by being around him?” Carl asked, surprised at the scope of his mother’s power.

“His sense of self-worth – how little of it there is – pours out of him, Carl. It’s a constant stream. And I feel so, so sorry for him. I know you’re jealous of him…”

“I’m not jeal—”

I know you’re jealous of him,” Insight reiterated after being cut off, “but despite everything he has going for him, he’s just as scared and lonely as you are. No one’s perfect, Carl. And no one truly has it easy. You won’t get anywhere in this world until you accept the fact that we’re all troubled and we all have issues that we need to deal with. In that way, we’re all powerless. Not just you.”

“Mom…”

“Make up with him. Be the friend he needs. Get your life back in order.”

Carl looked down for a moment before meeting his mom in the eyes. This woman, whom he had always considered an overly emotional, overly intrusive mess, stood before him stronger and more intelligent than he had ever realized.

“And what if he doesn’t want to?” he asked, looking down once more.

“You won’t know until you try, baby. But, from what I know about the boy, he’d be just as eager to rectify things as you are.”

“I’m an asshole, ma.”

Walking over to her son, she leaned in to give him a kiss on the head. She then promptly smacked him on the back of it.

“Ow!”

“I know you’re upset, but that’s no excuse to use that kind of language.”

Carl smirked as he rubbed the back of his head. “I love you, too, ma. And, um…thanks.”

“Anything for my baby angel,” she replied with a smile.

“Why did you take so long to tell me all this?”

“I was hopin’ you’d figure it out for yourself,” she said, “but then I remembered how damned stubborn you can be sometimes, just like your father, God rest his soul.”

“I remind you of him?”

“Every day.”

“Thanks, ma.”

“Except he wouldn’t curse in front of a lady, young man.”

“I said sorry!”

“I’m just teasin’ you. Why don’t you go get washed up? Dinner’s gonna be ready soon.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that night, Carl, deciding to call one of the few people who still didn’t mind being around him, picked up his phone to ring Octane. He couldn’t deny the validity of what his mom had told him; he needed to get himself back on the right path and fix things, starting with El. So for the first time in a long time, he reached out to a friend. He was tired of avoiding his friends. And he was tired of avoiding the truth.

“Yo, man,” he said in to the phone after Octane had answered.

“Yo yo, what’s up, what’s up?”

“Nothin’. You doin’ anything?”

“Ain’t doing shit. You wanna come over?”

“Yeah, let’s chill, but wouldn’t it be quicker if you…”

He then heard a booming *swoosh* sound lasting around seven seconds followed by a *knock* *knock* *knock* at the door.

“…came here.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What’s-what’s-what’s going on, man?” Octane asked as the two hung out in Carl’s room. “You haven’t been too chatty lately.”

“Yeah, well, shit’s been shit, ya know?”

“Ha, yeah, man. I’ve noticed.”

“Has El said anything about…anything?”

“Not really. Doesn’t really bring it up.”

“I see,” Carl replied, not sure what to make of that fact.

“You try talking to him?”

“No.”

“You should.”

“I don’t think he wants to talk.”

“You-you-you’d be surprised, man. Dude misses you for sure.”

“How do you know?”

“He just hasn’t been the same since, ya know?”

“Yeah…” Carl said.

There was silence for a beat until Octane changed the topic slightly.

“You never asked him about his parents, did you?”

“Must’ve forgotten,” Carl admitted, slightly ashamed. “What about them?”

“They got a divorce. It’s been super hard on him.”

“They…really? They always seemed so happy, though.”

“Yeah, well, I guess they were-were-weren’t gonna fight in front of his friends or anything.”

“I can’t believe he never said anything.”

“You never asked, man. You always go to him when you have a problem, but can you-you-you name a time when you asked him if he had any of his own?”

“I never even thought to,” Carl answered, his shame growing. “Has he mentioned that to you before?”

“No, but I see more than people realize,” Octane replied. “For-for instance, people kind of think I’m this goof, and that’s fine. What people wanna think of me doesn’t bother me. But you know who it does bother?”

“El,” Carl muttered.

“Yeah, dude.”

“My mom already laid in to me about it,” Carl said. “Never really knew, ya know? I guess, how could I?”

“He’s good at putting on a show, that’s for sure,” Octane agreed. “But you guys are best buds; you’ll be alright. Just talk it out like bros.”

“What if he doesn’t want to?”

“Said it before, and I’ll say it again: Don’t be a pussy, Freeman.”

Carl let out a light chuckle.

“I’m glad you’re back to not being such-such-such a douche.”

“Yeah. Me, too,” Carl agreed.

“Spore really did a number on ya, didn’t she?”

“For real, man. I thought she was the one.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“What about her made-made-made you feel that way?”

“I…um…she…”

Carl was at a loss for words. Had he been asked this question months ago, he would’ve spouted off catchwords such as ‘fate,’ ‘destiny,’ or ‘soul mate,’ but now what he felt for her began to feel like a distant blur. And conversely, why he felt that way became all the more clear.

“…because I liked that someone liked me,” he admitted.

“Ha, I hear ya, bro. But the only person that’s gotta like you is you.”

“You know, you’re a lot smarter than people give you credit for.”

“I play shit close to the chest.”

“Ha, I can…”

“Or is it vest?”

“What?”

“Close to the vest? But who the hell wears vests?”

“It doesn’t…”

“I mean, six-to-one, right? Does it matter? Like-like-like, if you’re wearing a vest but it’s really chest, the difference is like, an eighth on an inch of cloth, right? So it’d still be really close.”

“I take it all back.”

“Bitch. But seriously, dude…talk to him. I’m sure he wants to hear from ya.”

“Yeah…yeah. Thanks, man.”

“No worries, bud.”

“So, um…what about you? Everything good on your end?”

Octane smirked. “You’re-you’re-you’re learning. Shit’s good. Having trouble finding a good way to finish off the yearbook DVD, though.”

“Really? Don’t yearbooks get issued next month?”

“Yeah, dude. I-I-I gotta finish it up.”

“You know what you could do: Cap the whole thing off with prom.”

“That’s-that-that’s actually a pretty sweet idea. You just think of that now?”

“Keep a secret?”

“Sure.”

“I really, really like musicals. I think ending things on a dance number would be awesome.”

“Fag,” Octane replied jovially.

“Ha, fuck you. You know it’s a good idea.”

“Yeah, that actually is pretty sweet. Are you gonna go, though?”

“To prom? Well…” Carl began, embarrassed, “I, um…I bought tickets last month or so. I kind of,” he then cleared his throat and continued, “I kind of thought I’d still be able to win Spore back and wanted to be prepared for when I did.”

“Word. You better now with all that?”

“Other than wasting ninety bucks on these stupid tickets, yeah. I mean, I’d be lying if I said it still didn’t hurt sometimes, but I guess every day’s a little better.”

“Time-time-time heals all, broseph. So you gonna try to go or no?”

“Probably not. You want them?”

“Nah, I’m aight. Hold on to ‘em. Might just change your mind.”

“We’ll see,” Carl replied incredulously as he turned to look towards his dresser where the two tickets were secretly housed.

“Aight, bro. I’m gonna head out. Talk to you later, my man.”

“Later, bud. And, um…good talk. Thanks.”

“Yeah, man. I don’t like seeing either you or-or-or El all messed up. Anything I can to-to-to help.”

“Appreciated, man. Take it easy.”

“Later,” Octane replied. And with a *swoosh*, he rocketed out of Carl’s house, his long brown hair and unzipped gray hoodie being swooshed back as he did.

Carl stood up and breathed deeply. For the first time in a long time, he was beginning to feel normal again.

“What next…?” he asked himself. Reaching in to his pocket, he felt his phone. He stared at it for a moment, but something didn’t feel quite right.

He opened his top desk drawer and put the phone in there, out of sight and out of mind. After closing the top drawer, his hand drifted towards the bottom one to retrieve his notebook.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


TO BE CONTINUED


With a little help from family and friends (people whom he’s been neglecting for far too long), Carl gets his ass in gear towards a path of redemption. Will he be successful, or is he too far gone? Keep reading to find out. Empowered continues in a week!





Empowered: Act 2 Finale

Empowered: Act 2 Finale



Here we are, everyone: The thrilling conclusion to Empowered: Act 2! I’ve had this ending scene of this act in my head since even before I wrote the story, and everything I’ve written thus far has been building towards it. It’s truly the turning point of the story, and I hope those of you who’ve been reading are both satisfied with the progression and eager to see where the story’s going to go from here. As always, I’m happy to bring you a new installment of this story, and I can’t wait to show you how the whole thing ends. But I won’t get ahead of myself. For right now, let’s focus on the apex of Carl Freeman’s downfall in the Act 2 Finale of Empowered!


Gym class was the only class where Carl, in theory, was equal. Wanting to test students on their ‘natural’ athletic abilities, schools outfitted gym classes with nullifiers that suppress the gene that gives a person his or her power. Originally developed to better contain convicts in prison, the nullifiers leveled the playing field for physical education. Only those with physically manifested attributes, such as Wing, partially retained their abilities. In his case, his wings remained; however, he lost the ability to manipulate wind.

Until today, Carl had been on Wing’s team each time they played dodgeball, and he had little to no reason to not enjoy the sport.

Until today.

Getting hit in the face for the fourth time that period, he could hear Wing say to a friend, “Even with the Carl-makers, he still doesn’t stand a chance.”

“ ‘Carl-makers,’ that’s was always really funny, Wing, you fucking used tampon of a human being,” he muttered to himself as he rubbed his right cheek and took a seat with his teammates who’ve also been ejected from the game. Carl, whose mind was permeated with thoughts of his recent breakup, had been too distracted to play effectively, and Wing had taken full advantage of that fact.

After four more minutes of play, Mr. Woods blew his whistle, ending the second round. “Okay,” he said, “the score is 1-1. Next game decides it.”

“See you out there, Imp,” Wing called out from the other bench.

“Watch it, Kong,” Mr. Woods stated, having heard the antagonizing remarks. “I don’t want to have this conversation with you again.”

Superficially, Wing replied, “Of course, sir. My apologies,” then quickly following his words with devious smirk at Carl.

Carl shook his head as the lividity rose within him. With his current emotional state, it meant that Wing’s actions were more caustic to him than usual. Every time Wing antagonized him, the anger in Carl was stirred harder and harder. Usually, Carl’s goal was to just do his best to not make his team lose; today, his effort was to be focused on cracking Wing across the face with a dodgeball.

He missed the first shot he took at Wing. And he missed the subsequent five times he tried to hit the lithe young man, who was too quick for Carl to successfully land a blow. Fury replaced precision as Carl impetuously – and unsuccessfully – launched ball after ball at Wing.

And as each ball harmless flew past him, Wing would laugh harder and harder. And every time he let out that loud, deep, mocking laugh, Carl’s anger was stirred even more.

The agitation was clear on Carl’s face; he saw no need and no use in hiding it. He wanted to hurt Wing. Badly.

“Missed again, Imp,” Wing taunted as he deftly swerved out of the way of the red rubber ball that was about to connect with his head.

Stirring.

Carl immediately found another by his feet and sent it on the same course towards him.

“Don’t try too hard, Imp,” you’re just embarrassing yourself now. “Come on; I’ll make it easy for you,” he said. Then expanding the feathery protrusions on his back to their full length, he smiled as wide as his wingspan and gestured with his hands that he wanted Carl to throw the ball.

Though panting hard with exhaustion, Carl obliged Wing, but his throw was a weak and lifeless one. As the ball neared his enemy, a small flap of his wings was enough to send the red rubber projectile off course.

“That’s enough, Kong!” Mr. Woods yelled. “You know the rule about powers; you get a zero for the day!”

“Pity,” Wing remarked, feeling the failing grade for the day was more than worth the embarrassment now painted across Carl’s face. “It was an admirable try, Imp.”

Wing then turned his back to take his place on his team’s bench. As he did so, Carl, feeling a resurgence of strength, picked up another ball a few feet away and held it tight against his chest. Forfeiting any integrity, he wound up and released the ball, hitting Wing in the back of his head and interrupting his graceful stride.

Wing turned to face Carl, his face as red as the ball that had hit him. Sentiments had been quickly switched as Carl felt a wave of satisfaction and Wing a deeper loathing for Carl than ever before.

Mr. Woods blared on his whistle three times, ejecting Carl from the game as well.

“Freeman!” he screamed. “You’re out, too! Failing grade for the day, and you’re lucky I don’t fail you for the quarter for an act like that!”

Carl was silent. He didn’t know what had come over him, but he felt no regret for what he had done. Like Wing, the chance for humiliation greatly exceeded the desire for a passing grade in gym class.

“Nice shot, Freeman,” Wing sneered from the opposing bench, “but I suppose we all get lucky once.”

Carl said nothing and instead scowled at the young Chinese boy, accompanying it with a smirk of self-satisfaction.

When class ended, the boys took to the locker room to get dressed, but before Carl and Wing could go inside, Mr. Woods called them to stay behind.

“Kong! Freeman! You’re not going anywhere just yet,” he yelled. “Everyone else inside; this is none of your business.”

The other young boys, always eager to hear a fellow classmate get reprimanded by the teacher, groaned and slowly marched in to the locker room, hoping to at least hear the introduction to Carl and Wing’s verbal berating.

“I don’t know the problem you two have with each other, and frankly, I don’t fucking care,” the gym teacher growled, not concerned with sugarcoating his language. “If I see either of you pull anything like that in my class again, we’re going to have a serious problem. Do you understand me!”

Carl looked at Mr. Woods in shame; Wing stared at him in indifference. The teacher let his words linger on the ears for a moment before continuing. “Now shake hands like men and put this behind you. And I’ll repeat myself: I better not fucking see this kind of behavior again. Do I make myself clear?”

The boys simply nodded before turning to shake hands. Carl was trying – and failing – to keep a calm composure, but the anger in his eyes betrayed him as he looked at Wing. As they shook, Carl noticed how icy Wing’s grip was, starkly contrasting the furious heat in his own.

“Go,” Mr. Woods finished. “I don’t want to look at either one of you right now.”

The two remained silent before entering the locker room. The moment the door closed, Wing’s antagonism resumed.

“Must be nice, I’d assume, not being a freak for a change, even though it’s only for forty-five minutes every other day,” Wing whispered. Although better at hiding it, he was filled with as much indignation as Carl.

And Carl, whose anger never had a chance to fully subside, was being stirred once more.

“Really, it must be nice,” he said again before walking past Carl and towards his locker.

Stirring.

Carl reached for his own locker and began to turn the dial, hoping in vain that this was the last he’d have to deal with Wing for the day. Under his breath, mumbled the combination to his lock. “Zero three, three zero, one two.”

With a *clunk*, the lock came off, and the door opened up. He spent moments applying body spray and putting his normal clothes back on. Wasting no time, he slammed the locker shut and began walking towards the exit and out in to the hallway.

“See you later, Freakman,” Wing uttered coolly after exiting a few moments after Carl.

Stirring.

Turning around and getting in to Wing’s face, Carl growled, “Listen, you piece of shit, I ain’t afraid of you.” Even angrier than he was before, he the finished with “Back the fuck off before you regret it.”

A crowd of students began to gather as they heard the raised voices. El and Octane, both on their way to their gym period, were amongst them.

“Oh, Imp, you’re so much fun to be around…” Wing spouted with a fiendish sneer and narrowed eyes. “It’s a wonder why Spore ever dumped you, isn’t it?”

Stirred.

Wing, taken off guard, now laid on the ground with bloody nose while Carl’s right fist felt as if it had just been struck by a hammer.

Voices emanated throughout the hall:

“Oh, fuck!”

“Did you see that!”

“Carl knocked him on his ass!”

“Should’ve done it years ago.”

“You gonna take that, Kong?”

“Get up, Wing! Or are you too scared to get hit again by a ‘freak’!” Carl screamed at him. “Get up, you b—”

It was then that El grabbed him and exited out of the school before the situation could escalate any further. Luckily, no teachers had been present for the altercation.

“Get the fuck off me, man! What the hell are you doing!”

“Making sure you don’t get fucking expelled; that’s what I’m fucking doing, you dick! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I knew what I was doing! I was giving that dickhead what he had coming for years!”

“Oh great, you hit him and you’re the one kicked out. You’re fucking lucky a teacher didn’t see that! Think for a change! Christ!”

The voices of the two were raised as Octane, who had followed along immediately, tried to diffuse the situation.

“Both of you, chill out,” he said calmly with his hands up and facing outward. “It’s over.”

“Yeah, and you just got it all figured out, don’t you? Perfect fucking Elcsum Gray needs to use his strength to save Carl and tell him what he did wrong,” Carl replied, ignoring Octane’s pleas for amity.

“Oh do not even start with this bullshit again, man! I’m tired of having your back and then you treating me like an asshole because of it! You’re lucky you even have friends after how big of a dick you’ve been this past year!”

“Fuck you.”

Octane interjected again, still trying in futility to end things before they escalated.

“Carl, he was just trying to help. And El, he’s told you this before; he doesn’t want you doing things for him. You’re both-both-both acting like children.”

Also paying no attention to Octane, El continued his rant. “Getting pissed at me for looking out for you, forgetting about me and Ock the second you get a girlfriend then calling when you only when you need something. Want me to go on?” The frustration in El’s words was seething with months of anger and resentment.

“Yeah, then if I’m such a piece of shit, don’t talk to me anymore,” Carl said as he begin to turn away from his friends and back to the school.

“Spore was right,” El uttered.

“Fuck,” Octane whispered to himself as he shook his head.

Carl stopped in his tracks and turned around. It was El who was now stirring his anger.

“What?” Carl replied, incensed and walking up within inches of El.

“Spore was right. You really are selfish,” El replied.

“Fuck you!” he yelled, pushing El back.

“What, are you going to fight me now? Get a grip,” El said, rolling his eyes.

“Fuck off, man!” Carl exclaimed.

“Guys!” Octane screamed.

“I’m tired of this ‘woe-is-me’ bullshit, Carl! Yes, your girlfriend dumped you, and yeah, you don’t have a power. It sucks, but fucking get over it already! Grow a goddamn pair and act like a man for once.”

Stirring.

“Go fuck yourself, El. You could never possibly understand what I have to go through. You have it so fuckin’ easy.”

“You know what?”

El then grabbed Carl, and within moments, he jumped them so they were far enough from school grounds and to an empty parking lot nearby. Octane followed in short order.

Immediately upon landing, El looked at Carl and, in a very matter-of-fact way, requested, “Hit me.”

“What?”

“You heard me, Carl. You’ve wanted to for a while now. Hit me,” he said again, this time giving him a small push on the shoulder.

Stirring.

“Don’t push me, man.”

“What’s that matter? It’s what you want, right? To kick my ass? That’ll make you feel better, won’t it? That’ll make you feel powerful, right? Come on, kick perfect fucking Elcsum Gray’s ass, or are you a pussy?”

Stirring.

Carl’s forgot the pain in his right hand as it balled in to fist on his side.

“Carl…” Octane pleaded. For once, he was at a loss for words.

“Too scared, Imp?”

Stirred.

Carl, for the second time in a matter of minutes, hit a man in the face. This time, it was the face of his best friend instead of his worst enemy. Like Wing, the blow knocked El to the ground, and as Carl saw his friend’s face now swollen and covered in blood, he looked at his hand in terrible awe over what he had just done.

He couldn’t believe himself.

El slowly lifted himself to the ground and brushed the dirt of his clothing. With his tongue, he gathered the blood that had filled his mouth and spat it on the ground. Turning to Carl, he asked him one simple question.

“How powerful do you feel now?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


END OF ACT 2


His girlfriend, best friend, and worst enemy, in such a short span of time, he was able to piss them all off. Carl’s angst has hit its peak, and Act 3 will be about his retribution. Carl’s fallen hard, but will he be able to rise? And will he learn what it means to be truly empowered? Find out when Empowered: Act 3 continues in two weeks! I’ll see you then.