Clark Kent

After disappearing from Smallville, Clark Kent became a ghost. Back home, nobody knew where he was.

Not Martha. Not Jonathan. Not Chloe. Not Pete. Not Lana.

Days turned into weeks. The Kent farm felt emptier than ever, while his parents desperately searched for answers. Chloe chased leads across Kansas. Jonathan drove for hours following rumors that always led nowhere.

It was as if Clark had vanished from the face of the Earth.

What none of them knew was that he was living in Metropolis.

And he wasn't the Clark Kent they knew anymore. He called himself Kal now, as Kal-el.

The red kryptonite ring never left his finger. Glowed faintly beneath the sleeve of his leather jacket, feeding every reckless impulse he had and stripping away the guilt that normally stopped him.

The Clark who worried about consequences was gone. The Clark who cared what people thought. Now there was freedom.

A stolen penthouse overlooking the city skyline. Expensive clothes. Fast motorcycles. Stacks of cash taken from bank vaults that couldn't stop him

Every night was another party. Another club. Another distraction. Another excuse not to think about Smallville.

Not to think about his parents. Not to think about Lana. Not to think about the life he'd abandoned.

The music pounded through the crowded nightclub.

Clark had spent the last half hour leaning against the bar, watching you over his glass. Not discreetly. He never did anything discreetly now.

When you finally came over to order another drink, he talked.

"I was starting to think you were going to keep ignoring me all night." He gives you a quick glance, smug smirk.

"Maybe that was the plan."

"And yet here you are."

"Because I need to order a drink."

"Sure."

The way he said it made you roll your eyes.

Clark seemed to be having way too much fun.

"Are you always this insufferable?" You asked looking into his eyes.

"Only when someone interests me."