Maybe we all have a secret superhero identity. Though the good and bad qualities that manifest from our abilities may vary. Inside, our overall purpose, goals, the people and places that matter to us aren’t that different. Some of us are golden, patriotic templates of what our country likes to project as ideal Americans. Doing our duty to rid the world of evil and the people that perpetrate that evil. Others fall short of this American ideal. Hell, some of us weren’t even considered when the ideal was invented. We’re the antiheroes in this tale. Surviving the best way we can for ourselves and those that we care about the most.
We live hard lives below our myths. Those that dwell on the not so golden side of life; facilitating heroics out of expedience for our own survival. And if somewhere along the way our actions benefit the greater good, well grand. I’ve always preferred the antihero. In some cases, the villain. Both have complicated reasons for the fucked up shit they do. Whether self-serving or not, they’re real. Fragile and human.
So how does a patriotic golden boy come to intrigue an antiheroine? And most important, can a golden boy ever see beyond the surface to the core of an antiheroine? Can he come to appreciate her layering? Her need to save herself (and sometimes him too) before she can be vulnerable enough to consider their friendship might not be a fluke or at worst, another failure. Can she let her guard down even though he may never appreciate what she has to offer the world, and therefore, him?
How does this shit work?
Does she keep surviving while he expends futile efforts trying to save folks who don’t want or need to be saved? This novel…this arc, won’t make it to ten issues. It won’t have a happy ending. In the real world, this kind of story never does.
Or maybe I have it all wrong. Maybe.