Disclaimer: All characters and plotlines are from Marv Productions' 2010 film Kick-Ass.

Call Me What You Will

My hands are so sweaty, they're sliding off the steering wheel; I can't crash this thing, or my dad will absolutely kill me. What the hell have I gotten myself into?

"You know where this place is?" I ask to calm the tension.

The green-masked boy sitting next to me shrugs and lets his yellow gloves fall to his lap. "No idea."

"Never been there?"

"Nope."

I start to panic a little. "How do you know you can trust these guys?" There is an uneasy silence as the unknown character shrugs again. "Christ, what the hell do you know?"

"What?"

"Well Jesus, you had that video, you're famous around here. I thought you'd live up to your name a little!"

The boy hangs his head as though the thought had crossed his mind before. "Yeah."

Regardless of my apathetic judgement on the situation, I have to keep up the charade for the sake of my dad's business. "I'm still your biggest fan; don't get me wrong. I just pictured you differently."

"Like what?"

"Like something out of Batman, I guess."

He seems oddly amused by this comparison – you'd think he'd be kind of crushed that I'm saying he's not a real hero, huh? "What's so funny?" I slur, hoping he doesn't think I sound sarcastic.

"Nothing. You'll find out when we get there."

A long stillness follows his last words. 'When we get there' – now that makes me think. I think so hard I can feel the black make up around my eyes begin to crawl down the skin under my mask with beads of sweat.

I don't want to think what's going to happen when we get there. I am aware this kid didn't do anything wrong. All he's ever done is try to make the world a more awesome place. I can't complain about that. Dad can.

I have to remind myself I'm doing this for him. I want to make him proud, but am I willing to give an innocent life to do that? He's actually a pretty cool guy. We'd probably be friends. Should I tell him what's going on? Tell him to get the fuck out while he can and act like he got away before I could do anything about it?

I finally decide when we get there, I'll tell Dad's guys to go after the dumb fuck that's been stealing his coke and knocking off our men – not this kid. He's got no idea what he wandered into with this shit.

I drive up to the place and put the car in park.

Kick-Ass opens the car door and steps out. "Red Mist, you comin'?"

I sit in the car and don't move. Am I coming? Such a loaded question. I'm not the bad guy here; I'm just doing what I think would make my dad proud. But is it making me proud? I do not want to do this. Yes, I do. I should. I do. "Yeah, yeah, just grabbing my phone." I snatch my cell from its holster on the dashboard and thrust it into my pocket. It's time.