Chapter 1: Paul Parker

In a dingy apartment in Gotham City, Paul’s struggling with his tie in front of a cracked mirror. He’s rocking a cheap suit, his hair’s a mess, and he looks like he hasn’t slept in days.

Paul’s supposed to be getting ready for work, but he’s dragging his feet. His coworkers are always gossiping about him, making him dread the office even more.

Especially after that whole fiasco where he got mistaken for a peeping Tom while picking up coins in the women’s restroom. Now, he hates going to work even more.

“Man, even when I’m innocent, no one says sorry. Guess I’m just not popular,” Paul muttered to himself, laughing bitterly. He thought the misunderstanding was cleared up and he could get back to normal soon.

But nope, he was dead wrong.

Most of his colleagues still think he’s a creep and a perv.

“Damn, I should just quit! This place is driving me nuts.” Paul ran a hand through his hair, feeling more and more pissed off. But it was all talk; he couldn’t afford to quit.

Plus, he’d finally made it from the sticks to the big city. Leaving now would mean all his hard work was for nothing.

After work, as Paul was heading home, he heard a familiar voice:

“I already have a boyfriend, back off!”

Paul stopped in his tracks. He saw Ciara, his hot neighbor from downstairs, being harassed by some thug. She was in a tank top and shorts, looking seriously uncomfortable.

Ciara had just graduated college, and she was a knockout, especially with her killer curves that Paul couldn’t help but notice.

“Hey, buddy, with a face like yours, stop bothering people!”

Paul jumped in without thinking.

The thug, seeing Paul, looked like he’d seen a lifeline.

“You better scram, or... What are you filming?” The guy noticed Paul holding up his phone and tried to snatch it, but Paul dodged easily.

“You’re looking at a sexual harassment charge, and I’m getting it all on tape!” Paul shot back.

The thug, unable to grab the phone and continue harassing Ciara, spat at Paul, “Are you some kind of perv, filming everything?”

Hearing “perv” made Paul flash back to the nightmare at work. He wanted nothing more than to deck this guy.

But before Paul could make a move, Ciara raised her phone and threatened, “If you don’t leave now, I’m calling the cops!”

Not wanting to deal with the police, the thug shot Paul and Ciara a dirty look and bolted.

Once he was gone, Ciara let out a sigh of relief and turned to Paul, thanking him over and over. “Thank you, Mr. Paul, I’m so glad you were here today.”

From Paul’s angle, he couldn’t help but notice Ciara’s cleavage, her tank top showing off a generous amount of skin.

"It's nothing, anyone else would’ve done the same," Paul mumbled, quickly looking away so Ciara wouldn’t catch him staring.

"Now that you're safe, I'll be heading off."

"Wait a sec, Mr. Paul."

Just as Paul was about to leave, Ciara grabbed his sleeve.

"Mr. Paul, I got a bunch of beer. Wanna drink with me? Consider it a thank you for saving my butt."

Paul hesitated for a moment but then shrugged and agreed. They plopped down on the curb and cracked open some beers.

After a bit, Ciara finally asked what had been bugging her. "Mr. Paul, you seem kinda down lately. What's up?"

Paul sighed, fiddling with his beer can. He noticed Ciara’s cheeks were flushed, and her eyes were a bit glassy—she’d definitely had too much to drink.

"You keep sighing! Just spill it, I promise I won’t blab," Ciara pressed, curiosity all over her face.

Feeling the warmth from Ciara, Paul’s heart skipped a beat. After a moment, he spilled the beans about being mistaken for a peeping Tom at work.

Finally having someone to vent to, Paul felt a bit of the weight lift off his shoulders. He stared at the distant street and mentioned his thoughts about quitting. But instead of sympathy, Ciara looked shocked.

"Are you nuts, Paul? You wanna quit just 'cause of some gossip?"

Paul stared at Ciara, confused. Why was she tearing up over him talking about quitting?

"Do you know how hard it is to find a job now? I sent out dozens of resumes before landing one today! Can you guarantee your next job will be any better?"

Ciara’s teary voice made Paul realize his talk of quitting had hit a nerve about her own job struggles.

"If it’s just a misunderstanding, then clear it up. Explain it to your coworkers."

Ciara’s naive suggestion made Paul chuckle bitterly and shake his head.

"I’ve tried, but no one believes me. They’ve already made up their minds that I’m a creep." Paul downed his beer in one go. Suddenly, he felt something soft against his arm. He turned to see Ciara leaning in, her chest pressing against him.

"Mr. Paul, if you can’t change their minds, why not just own it? Be the baddest of the bad! That way, you won’t feel wronged. What do you think?"

"Uh..." Paul awkwardly turned his head away. The warmth of Ciara’s breath mixed with the alcohol was making his heart race.

Before he could answer, Ciara grabbed another beer, popped it open, and handed it to Paul.

"Let’s toast to the future!" Ciara raised her beer dramatically. Her tight tank top couldn’t contain her anymore, and almost half of her breast spilled out.

Paul’s eyes widened at the sight.