Nicole

Nicole is, in a word, beautiful. Her long, straight hair seems to shimmer between dark blond and light brown; blue eyes that sparkle like crystal shards, a smile that’s warm and kind. She always had a laugh ready for anybody that needed one. Nicole was the kind of friend who would help you out at the drop of a hat, whether it was early in the afternoon or 3 in the morning. There was absolutely no question that she would be on the heroes’ side of things.

Nicole was attending her first college party with a steady boyfriend on that fateful Saturday night. He doesn’t get powered up, nor does their relationship last very long into this story, so I’m not going to bother telling you his name. Nice guy, though.

The party was located near the University of Utah campus, in a big three-bedroom house that was stylized floor to ceiling with Utah Runnin’ Utes paraphernalia. Most of the houses on the block were rented out to college kids due to the neighborhoods proximity to the school, so no one ever called the cops with noise complaints. The kids that lived there viewed it proudly as a miniature Bourbon Street, or Las Vegas strip.

Nicole didn’t usually go in for the big rager parties, but her man knew two of the three roommates and promised it would be cool, and that if at any time she started feeling uncomfortable they could jet and find something quieter to do. She finally agreed to go.

The party started off calmly enough, with around ten people showing up early on and playing lots of drinking games in the various community rooms of the house. Nicole powered through a good amount of Boone’s Farm (a sugary alcoholic soda-type drink) while the boyfriend stuck to bottom of the barrel Keystone Light beer; every once in a while they snuck off to take a shot together. They were both on their way to getting pretty drunk and were having a very good time doing it.

Around 10 pm, the fraternity people rolled in on a wave of cheap cologne. Naturally they brought with them noise, arrogance, and a lot more booze. Nicole considered asking her boyfriend if they could leave, but figured she’d stick it out. After all, nothing bad had happened besides the volume of the party jumping up a couple of decibels. Maybe everything would stay chill.

It didn’t. The drinking games continued, but it was hard to hear the other people at the table over the shitty rap music now blasting from the stereo. Still, things went smoothly enough until a little before midnight (surprise surprise).

At this point the couple had given up on drinking games and were standing in a corner of the living room in between a giant green bean bag and a foosball table, talking with one of the roommates and drinking beer (the one good thing the frat guys had done was bring much higher quality beer than Keystone Light, so Nicole had switched over from the too-sweet Boone’s Farm). Nicole’s guy had to use the restroom, so he made sure Nicole would be ok for a moment talking to his friend, then stumbled off.

When he came back the roommate was nowhere in sight, and two drunken frat guys had taken his place, obnoxiously hitting on Nicole. What was worse was that Nicole obviously didn’t want anything to do with them, barely responding to any of their inquiries with anything more than quiet one word answers, but either they didn’t realize she wasn’t interested or, more likely, they didn’t care. More than a little buzzed himself, righteous anger flooded through his normally placid thoughts, and he rushed over to Nicole’s side.

Nicole nearly wept in relief at the sight of her boyfriend. He shouldered between the two hulking drunks and put a protective arm around her shoulders. But did this deter the frat guys? Not in the slightest. They just continued right on trying to pick her up while acting like the smallish bespectacled boyfriend didn’t exist.

This next part might be less confusing if Nicole’s guy did have a name. I’ll call him Stan.

Stan, now in a rage, told the two guys to fuck off.

They smiled at him and called him a fag. Frat guys seem very fond of that word, I’ve noticed.

Stan shoved the one on the right.

The one on the left calmly sucker punched him in the nose. Stan fell back in a spray of blood.

PAUSE

An angel walked in through the open front door, keeping his wings pressed tight to his body even though he was immaterial, and came over to where Nicole was standing frozen in shock, staring down at her fallen boyfriend. The angel’s face tightened in a grimace. Had he the power to intervene, he would have cut down the two frat guys in the space of a heartbeat. He detested their type. Most of us Upstairs do.

He wasn’t allowed to intervene though, so with a sigh that no one heard he turned to the reason he was there. Moments later Nicole’s power switch had been flipped and the angel was leaving without a backward look, though he did have his fingers crossed that the ensuing altercation would end the way he predicted.

PLAY