If you held a popularity contest for the girls at Midtown High, Gwen Stacy might not take the top spot in raw popularity...
But she'd still be the undisputed number one.
In fact, it wouldn't even be close.
Ask around, and the silent majority of the student body would cast their vote for Gwen.
That included Hawk.
He still remembered his first week at school how awkward and withdrawn he had been.
He wasn't talkative, didn't really socialize, and mostly kept to himself.
Gwen, misunderstanding his quietness as a sign of bullying, had actually reached out, trying to help him fit in.
But that was just Gwen.
Kind-hearted.
Empathetic.
She would've done the same for anyone else.
And as for Hawk?
He never read too much into it.
Because there's an old saying:
Life has three great illusions.
And topping that list?
"She likes me."
So...
Yeah.
Hawk didn't kid himself.
Soon, the car arrived at the Queens Family Court.
Hawk looked out the window at the courthouse, then turned to Gwen.
"Thanks again," he said politely before opening the door and stepping out.
But then...
He heard footsteps behind him.
Turning around, he saw Gwen getting out of the car and walking toward him.
A question mark practically formed above his head.
"?"
"How are you getting back?" Gwen asked. "Gonna walk? The airport's not exactly close from here."
"I was going to take the sub—"
"Subway drivers are part of the transit union. And they're on strike."
"…"
Hawk fell silent.
Gwen smiled gently and walked ahead. "Come on, it's almost three. You really don't want Judge Bros to cancel your hearing, do you?"
Hawk stared at her for a moment, opened his mouth, but then closed it again.
He sighed, shook his head, and followed.
Family Court, Room 3.
Judge Bros tapped the small gavel on her bench.
"Next case: Petition for Emancipation — Hawk Walker."
"Yes, Your Honor," Hawk said, standing and greeting the judge respectfully.
"Your Honor," echoed the representative from the Department of Child and Family Services, also rising from her seat.
Judge Bros glanced over the stack of documents Hawk had submitted for emancipation.
After a few moments, she looked at the representative.
"I see here that he's never been adopted… nor placed with a foster family?"
The caseworker gave a helpless smile.
"That's right, Your Honor."
"May I ask why?"
"Well, Hawk isn't like other kids. He's always been quiet. Not great at socializing.
So prospective parents never really considered him. That's why he's stayed in the system so long without being adopted."
Judge Bros looked back at Hawk — who, outwardly, didn't seem like the withdrawn type at all — and nodded slowly.
"I see here in your application that you're requesting emancipation because you want to rent an apartment?"
Hawk nodded.
"Yes, Your Honor."
"May I ask how you plan to afford rent on your own?"
"I have thirty thousand dollars in my bank account. If I go for a low-cost apartment, it should be enough to cover expenses until I find a job."
"Thirty thousand?"
Judge Bros raised her eyebrows, flipping through the account statements Hawk had submitted.
No phone.
No computer.
No car — not even a driver's license.
She was genuinely surprised.
Petitions for early emancipation weren't unheard of — but someone like Hawk, who had cut all unnecessary expenses to save money like this?
That was rare.
And to see an orphan — one who had never been fostered or adopted — walk in with a bank balance of thirty thousand dollars?
Unprecedented.
Judge Bros looked at Hawk, her expression softening with something like admiration.
"You have impressive self-control, Mr. Walker."
"Thank you, Your Honor," Hawk replied.
Something stirred in his chest at the way she addressed him — Mr. Walker.
A title of adulthood.
Sure enough...
With a faint smile, Judge Bros stamped the papers in front of her, passed them to the court officer, and looked back at Hawk.
"Normally, I'm hesitant to grant emancipation. The adult world is harsh. But you, Mr. Walker... I believe you're ready.
Congratulations, Mr. Walker."
Hawk accepted the stamped document from the officer, then turned to the judge.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome."
Judge Bros nodded and smiled before tapping her gavel once more.
"Next case—"
Outside the courthouse, Hawk looked down at the court-stamped papers in his hand and allowed himself a small smile.
With this official document in hand, he was now legally emancipated.
Even though he hadn't yet turned eighteen, he could now sign a lease on his own.
No more living in that volatile warehouse-turned-shelter that felt like a powder keg waiting to explode.
This was good.
This was real good.
Still smiling to himself, Hawk turned and began walking toward the subway station.
Only to be stopped.
He looked up.
Gwen was standing there, giving him a look.
He blinked.
Right.
The subway was shut down too.
"Sorry," he muttered.
"Let's go," Gwen said, already walking.
Then she paused, turned back, and grinned a little.
"…Mr. Walker."
Hawk arched an eyebrow at her as she headed toward the yellow Corolla parked down the street.
A traffic officer was already standing in front of it, about to write a ticket.
"Wait Officer, hold on!"
Gwen dashed forward, rummaging through her backpack before handing something to the officer.
Not a business card.
It was a family ID badge — a special card recognized by the NYPD, issued only to officers' relatives.
Its purpose?
Simple.
To show you're one of their own.
The traffic cop stared at the card, noting the name and number:
George Stacy — 19th Precinct.
Then he looked back at Gwen.
A moment later, he stashed his ticket pad and handed the card back to her.
"You're good."
"Thank you, sir!" Gwen said quickly, relieved.
The officer swung back onto his police motorcycle and drove off, engine sputtering into the distance.
Gwen exhaled and turned to Hawk.
"That was close…"
"…"