"That's not all," he continued, cutting him off. "There's that whole crazy fanbase to deal with! I don't like the idea of being mobbed, collected, sent panites *and* briefs in the mail..."
Lois turned sharply to stare at Clark, her eyes wide. Clark shrugged, his cheeks turning a little pink. "That last one doesn't happen as much, anymore," he tried to explain.
The guys have given up?
Maybe they'll just send him their boxers.
John looked away. His hand came up to scratch the back of his neck. "I don't...want that kind of pressure. If I...If I screw up, and someone dies---or worse, a *lot* of people..." He swallowed. "I don't want that kind of responsibility."
I can sympathize. Just imagine. "Superman, help! Thank God, he's here. Oh no, what's happening? The roof is collapsing anyway - and Superman isn't saving them! The bastard! The good-for-nothing creep!"
"John," his mother began, her tone firm, "you can't just run from responsibility." Lois' voice softened. "You might make mistakes, true. That's something even your father has to face at times. There will always be things you 'could have done better'. If you want or don't want to be something, no matter what it is, that's okay. Just don't let fear make the decision for you." She fixed a steady gaze on him. "That is not the son I raised."
Oh, wow. Lois sure cuts an impressive figure of a mother here. Poor John. Powers or no powers, he doesn't stand a chance against her!
The poor boy is speechless. Figures.
"If you don't want to be a superhero, or even a reporter, you don't have to," Lois continued.
Gulp! What? He doesn't have to? And she knows?
His father stepped forward, clasping a hand on his shoulder. "We got an anonymous tip about the mural, Johnny. It's beautiful." He quirked a smile. "I noticed you painted me 'reaching for my tie'. Nice touch."
"I wish you'd told us, John."
"You're right," John relented. "I...probably should have spoken up sooner."
Lois snorted. "Darn right, you should've. Do you have an idea how much tuition costs?"
Clark chuckled as his son's face suddenly turned pale.
"Right." John coughed. "Sorry..."
Lois wrapped her son in a hug, to show that there weren't really any hard feelings. "From now on, you tell us everything. Okay?"
John nodded. "Okay. I guess now's a good time to mention that scholarship..."
Lois sure makes John quaver. Oh, but I'm glad everything is out in the open now. Ehh... mostly everything.
He'd just stepped into the shower when a dreadful, blood-curtling scream sliced through his head.
"JOHNNY!!!"
Either it's his muse, who is decidedly not amused. Or else it is another woman who is less than happy with him. I know, I know... you'll tell us.
Hmmm. You told us about your own muse, Mary, or muses, rather, since there are now two of them. One is, I think you said, "zany, hyper, and has a very short attention span". The other one was a gothy sort of character who mostly stands in a corner muttering something, and who insists on telling stories about people losing their minds, or about people plodding on searching for something to do now that their minds have been lost. Could this story just possibly be at least partly inspired by your gothy muse?
Ann
I knew that his mom and dad couldn't be that mad at him for choosing a different path in life.