The electronic glow from the television illuminated his face. The light showed off his sharp features, while still portraying his childish nature. He knew that he should be in bed, holding his girlfriend in his arms, but tomorrow morning was busy and there was no way he could get in this much game play.

Up, left, up, right, X, O, X!

The controller was warm, making his palms sweaty and his thumbs hurt. But none the less, he had to continue playing the game.

"Matthew, come to bed!" A very tired female voice called to him.

"In a moment, Sarah!" He called back.

"No, now!" Sarah replied.

True, he should have been to bed hours before, but he had to recharge. But there was no use in arguing. Saving and turning it off, he took off his shirt on the way to the bedroom. Sarah was curled up in a heavy quilt, her hair a mess and in her face.

"What are you doing up so late?" Matthew asked her as he slipped into bed.

"Your games are too loud." Sarah groaned, rolling into his arms. "If I hear that video game jingle one more time, I swear Matthew…"

"You wont tonight." He inhaled the shampoo scent in her hair. "Maybe tomorrow."


The arcade was in a riot that evening. Dozens of pimply teenage boys hollered around him as he tried to fix the faulty wiring. The short, bald man kept poking him in the side, asking him what was wrong with it and how much it would cost. This was becoming past humiliating, and he would take anything to go home. But he had a job to do, and he needed a new stove.

"Yo, fix-it-man!" A young male screamed, "I want to play my games!"

"Give me just another hour or so…" Matthew tried to scream over the crowd.

"Hour!" A squeaky little kid said. "I want to play shoot-em-dead now!"

Taking a deep breath, he tried to calm everyone down, but everyone had a different idea. After having m&m's thrown at him and spit on by the teenagers, he was cussed out by the manger and told to leave.

It was a terrible feeling to know he was coming home without a paycheck, but at least he would be going home. He just wished that he could have a more steadier job, something 9 to 5, but he knew that would never happen…figuring his second job was anything but.

He was beginning to calm his nerves, when he heard a struggle. Rounding the corner, he saw that little boy who happened to want to play shoot-em-up, being stuffed into a black vehicle. His eyes and mouth were taped, although bad for the kid, perfect for him. No one saw him as he tore off his sweat shirt and jeans, showing his electric blue suit.

"Put the child down!" Feedback called, pointing at the kidnapper.

"Why?" His mobster accent shown through, "A dude in spandex is gonna stop me? Sheesh, talk about a weird day."

He could already feel the electricity running through his veins. He didn't mean to brag, but it only took a few seconds to take this piece of garbage down and untie the child. The little boy's eyes were full with wonder as he clung on to Feedback's shoulders.

"You saved me!" The little boy cried. "You are my hero!"

As Matthew told the boy everything would be alright, he began to wonder to himself. How could he be nothing more than a dumb repair guy in one moment and someone's hero in the next?