The Assistant

The wet, dark street mirrored your mood as you walked home from another frustrating shift at the diner. The city lights blurred through the falling rain. Despite your college degrees, the only job you could land at nineteen was serving rude customers.

You pulled your worn jacket tighter, wishing you could tell the world about your perfect memory, the one that absorbed everything like a sponge. It was a secret, though, something too strange to share.

A voice jolted you from your thoughts. "Hey, gorgeous!" You ignored it, quickening your pace. "Where are you going, princess?" He wasn't worth it, you told yourself, just keep walking. But then, a hand grabbed your arm, yanking you around.

Just as you prepared for the worst, a figure landed between you and the man. Spiderman. A wave of relief washed over you. After he dealt with the harasser, you politely declined his offer to walk you home, your apartment only a block away.

Walking the rest of the way, your mind raced. What job could utilize your unique mind? A translator? An assistant? The thought of working for someone important sparked a flicker of hope. Back in your apartment, you opened your laptop, the familiar photo of your parents on the screen a brief, bittersweet distraction. You searched for 'assistant wanted' and then you saw it – a job posting from Stark Industries. Tony Stark needed an assistant.