Writing Drabble with Jay

Just a little thing. I’m having joint pains in my drawing hand again so I kinda want to attempt to focus on some writing shtuff. This is a little bit more world building, but it’s got some tummy filling in it.

———

After a few close calls, Jay decided that returning to the building of his job- his normal person job- through the center pivot window was not the best idea. The window bordered an open alleyway, one that was always a bit more traveled then the front of the building. He’d never been so grateful for those ten sweet seconds of invisibility that his gear graced him with as when he was nearly moments from being backed up by that paparazzi guy.

Jay didn’t remember his name. He didn’t even truly remember if he’d ever learned his name. He kinda just remembered him as the guy who wore the same New York Yankee’s hoodie every time he saw him. To be fair, Jay usually wore the same zip up every day too- but it said the company name that he worked for, AliTech, on it. So it was basically uniform.

To that Yankee fan, Jay was just some soft drone who sat at a messy desk in a dark room building PCBs all day. That was his point. No one expected a guy who let himself go with glasses, hearing aids, and a fake leg to be the same guy in a skin tight superhero costume who bolted around the city beating the shit out of stupid jerkwads all day. Jay felt like someone’s Mary-Sue character when he was in his day to day attire.

Despite his usual selection of oversized clothing, it helped his case somewhat when that paparazzi doofus started questioning him a little too hard to appear less than his usual fitness. The best he could do the first time it was brought up was puff his stomach out. It did the trick, but that was exhausting.

He could pack away a big dinner no problem, but pushing out on an empty stomach was easier said than done. In the grand scheme of things, appearing to have a gut probably wasn’t the biggest smartest plan he could come up with- but when he was constantly fighting the paranoia that someone might consider his posture a smidge too familiar or some shit, it helped enough.

He’d nearly (nearly) laughed out loud at himself when the fake stomach he’d ordered offline showed up, the box feeling like it was filled with sloshy jello and the “stomach” resembling a raw slab of chicken. It had been frigid cold, but it looked authentic enough.

Now… pulling that thing on when he was in a rush was a bit harder than he would have liked. Whenever he had to escape the speedy camera fiend, he would make a mad dash to the AliTech lab and right into the bathroom to change into his normal clothing. The little hodunk building was usually empty save for him, and the security cameras hadn’t worked since 2030, so he wasn’t ever worried about being seen by any coworkers.

Apparently it didn’t matter if he took a different path to the front of the building, because that guy still busted through the back window anyways.

“Well, he runs this way all the time. He came in through this window that first time,” the guy’s excuse had been when Jay yelled at him for breaking in again.

“Yeah, and it was fucking annoying when he did it too!” Jay had retorted. “Even the heroes look down on the broke.”

It definitely made the guy think, but it didn’t stop him from showing up in the hallway every damn time. Jay found himself extra out of breath that day, having weaved between multiple different roads in an attempt to really throw him off, then engaging his invisibility cloak around a far off corner and sprinting as hard as he could for his building.

Jay crammed himself into the furthest back stall of the bathroom, the one that had gone out of service so long ago that his boss just had the busted toilet removed so they could store supply boxes in it. But hey, it still had a lock. So Jay had just enough room to peel himself out of the skintight suit and pull on his everyday clothes. Which -who was he kidding- were definitely also pajamas.

He dug through his backpack for that chicken cutlet stomach to complete the look before Mister Breaking and Entering showed up, but…. All that sat in its place was an oversized bottle of that shitty Nirvana water that he’d grabbed from a food cart along with his breakfast that morning. He sighed, setting the bottle atop a box as he double checked his now feather-light bag.

It could work. At least once. He’d left his chugging days behind him at the college he’d spent three years at back in Connecticut, but he probably still had it in him to down a large drink as fast as he could. He had been too good at it years prior, but it didn’t mix well when he wasn’t a beer fan.

He didn’t really think much more on the subject— he just weighed his options and figured that a quick liter of water was better than any other idea he could curate in the next few moments. So he cracked the top of it off and threw the warm water back.

Honestly, he probably would have enjoyed a beer more than the worst brand of water in the state, but whatever. He was svelte, so that stale liter sat like a small, yet still impressively visible, balloon under his shirt. He grimaced, tucking the empty bottle into his backpack (that he then gracefully chucked behind the stacked boxes for later retrieval) and planted his hands on his stomach with a strained breath of discomfort.

The cloudy mirror in the stall was warped and hung off the wall at a forward angle, so Jay wasn’t so sure if he really looked visibly bloated, or if he was just getting a funhouse mirror effect from the old thing. He felt the water sit like a rock in his upper stomach, so it must have been good enough.

Hoping that he had been quick enough to make it back to his little office den before any intruders saw him, he slipped out of the bathroom quickly, only to run headfirst into the guy. Trademark pending.

“Jesus Christ!” Jay wheezed, jumping back in alarm. The water in his stomach sloshed grossly at the sudden movement, so he didn’t stop himself from cupping his hand over it to calm the seasick feeling it gave him.

“Sorry. Thought I saw Blue Jay come in here. For real this time,” the guy said, his camera gripped tightly as though he was about to snap the photo of a lifetime.

“You’ve got screws loose,” Jay muttered, jamming his hand against the guy’s arm to jut him back towards the window. “He didn’t even pass by today. Heard he stopped by Tony’s Diner two days ago, though. Maybe you should break in through their windows next time.”

“I didn’t hear anything about Tony’s,” the guy said earnestly. Jay just rolled his eyes.

“I’m seriously starting to think you’re more obsessed with me than the hero guy you’ve been trying to snap a photo of. Uh…. whatever your name is.”

“Marcelo. And I still think it’s weird that your name is Jay.”

“There’s like 800 people in New York City alone named Jay. The census hated me this year,” Jay said. He truly had the worst luck when the Hero agency, Bird’s Eye View Corp., gave him the name “Blue Jay”. As far as he was concerned, his true identity was completely anonymous to them. They just liked birds.

“Well, Marcelo, can you take the fucking hint please?” He asked. He felt queasy; the aftertaste of the water stuck to his tongue, and all he wanted was to sit down. Marcelo squinted his eyes, looking down at where Jay’s hand still rested over his full stomach, then smirked.

“Yeah. Sure, no problem. Hint taken loud and clear,” he snickered, then turned and squeezed back out the window he came in from. Jay felt his face get hot as he turned bright red, and he slammed the window closed after the brute as he took off down the street. Jay would be keeping that fake stomach in his bag under lock and key in the future.