Mike arrived at work at 8:47 am. He entered the shared creative room with four desks arranged in a loose square, with his the nearest to the window.
The other three belonged to his team. Danny Park, the penciller. Rosa Vega, the colourist, and James Okafor, the inker.
Mike had spent the first week learning them and observing how they worked to understand what each person needed from a creative lead. Rosa was a problem, not because she was bad at her job but because it seemed that she wanted Mike to fail.
He set his coffee down on the table and spread his script pages across his desk and waited. Rosa arrived at nine, glancing at the pages before sitting down and ignoring them.
"Morning," Mike said.
"Morning," she replied.
She opened her laptop and started to work on something that was definitely not this project. Danny arrived seven minutes later. Danny looked at the spread-out pages and came round to look.
"Oh wow, is this the... can I..." Danny asked.
"Go ahead," Mike answered, gesturing at the pages.
Danny picked up the pages and read.
"It's just a draft. I'm looking for feedback," Mike said.
"The way you're framing Peter's failure here... It's not about the villain at all. The fight is more internal. This is... It's interesting," Danny replied, glancing at Rosa.
James arrived four minutes later, glancing at the pages Danny was holding, sat down and began to work.
"Rosa. Can I ask your opinion about something?" Mike asked.
"Sure," she replied, looking up from her screen.
"The colour palette for Peter's internal sequences versus the external. I'm thinking maybe blues and greys, and then it saturates back to full when he's back to the present, but you know colour theory better than I do. Would that risk being too heavy-handed?" Mike asked.
"It depends on how it's executed. If it's too subtle, it disappears, but if it's heavy, it becomes too obvious," Rosa answered, staring at Mike.
"Can you show me? Not the full sequence but a panel. I want to see what your instinct looks like," Mike said.
Rosa pulled his script pages towards her and studied them. Then she pulled up her software.
"Give me thirty minutes."
By lunch all three of them were working on his project, not because he demanded it but because he let them do what they were best at and actually listened to their feedback.
Victoria Lee arrived at 2 pm for the first official project review. Mike had been expecting her. Danny and James seemed to worship her from a safe distance while Rosa resented her. She's thirty-four and Mike's direct supervisor on his project and praised for being exceptionally good at her job. Victoria walked into the shared creative room with confidence and the sense that she knew that all eyes were on her.
"Mr Hayes. I've heard interesting things," Victoria said, extending her hand for a handshake and assessing Mike with her eyes.
"Ms Lee. Thanks for making time," Mike replied, shaking her hand before returning to his desk.
Victoria was surprised. She expected him to remain standing and wait for her to sit first, as she was higher in the hierarchy. Mike was seated and looking at her. Victoria sat across him and opened her portfolio.
"I've reviewed your outline, and I have concerns."
"Let's hear them."
"Your Peter Parker is too internal. Readers expect and want action and momentum. They don't read Spider-Man for deep and psychological examinations. They read for..." Victoria replied.
"Stakes and consequences. The action is there, but without the internal grounding, the action has no weight," Mike cut her off.
"Our readers..."
"Are declining. With each year, you sell fewer and fewer total issues. Each one of your projects sold well at first but dwindled due to poor critical reception. The people are tired of nothing but action," Mike interrupted, pushing three documents across the table.
Victoria looked at the documents. She couldn't refute what he said.
"The internal sequences risk pacing issues," she said.
"Yes, that's a real concern. That's why I and my team are working on solutions to exactly that problem since this morning," Mike replied, gesturing to his team.
Victoria looked at each of them.
"You've already addressed my primary concern before I raised it," she said.
"I saw it coming. It's a legitimate concern. I have a complete script for issue one ready if you'd like to read it before our next meeting. I can have it at your desk by the end of the day, or if you'd prefer, we could wait until the team completes the visual pass. That works too," Mike replied, gathering his documents.
"End of the day," Victoria answered. She needed to read it and needed to find problems.
"Great. Anything else?"
Victoria looked at Mike. The nobody who walked in from a small webcomic and handed an opportunity most people don't ever get in their whole careers. She expected to find someone arrogant and bursting with confidence without the ability to back it up. Instead, he was treating her and his team as part of the process and not tools for his vision. It was deeply unsettling.
"The editorial notes I sent last week. About the supporting cast," she said.
"I incorporated most of them, but the ones I didn't are marked with my reasoning. I know this story better than anyone, but you know this job better than anyone. We should be trying to collaborate, not fighting for control," Mike replied, meeting Victoria's eyes.
"End of the day, Mr Hayes," Victoria replied, gathering her portfolio and standing.
"I'll have it there," Mike replied.
Victoria left. Rosa waited until she could hear the elevator doors close before looking at Mike with a mix of disbelief and respect.
"Nobody talks to Victoria like that."
"Like what?"
"Like she's just... one of us."
"But she is just one of us. She's not a god... right?"
Rosa was quiet for a moment.
"About what we discussed this morning, I have a second approach that I think might work better. Do you want to see?" she asked.
"Yes, show me everything," Mike replied.
...
Bette Noir found him three days later. She had been following Mike at a careful distance for two weeks now. She couldn't quite understand how she managed to lose track of him so often.
The city was a constant noise with every person broadcasting their thoughts, worries, desires, hunger and grief. Bette couldn't turn it off except when she was near Mike.
Complete silence. She hadn't realised how much she needed that until she had experienced it.
Today she was in the coffee shop three tables away while Mike was working on his script pages. His coffee was getting cold because he forgot he even ordered it when he was focused on his work. Mike looked up from his pages and saw her. She walked over and sat opposite him.
"You've been doing this for two weeks," said Mike.
"I know. I can stop," she replied, wrapping her hands around her tea.
"I only said you've been doing this. Not that it should stop. You're not bothering anyone, and it doesn't bother me," Mike replied, returning to his script.
It was silent for a while.
"Your mind is the only quiet place in the city," Bette said eventually.
"You can sit near whenever you need to then. You don't need to stay hidden or follow me around. You can just sit," Mike replied, making a correction to his script.
"You're not bothered?" she asked, staring at him.
"Not at all," Mike answered.