"Hey, Dad! It's Adrian."
Jonathan Kent's warm but tired voice came through the receiver from the quiet fields of Smallville.
"Adrian, how are things in Gotham lately? I saw the weather report — heavy rain again, huh? Air's probably thick with humidity. You need to take care of yourself, son."
"I know, Dad."
Adrian leaned back in his chair, glancing at the city skyline beyond his hotel window.
"Everything's fine here. How's the farm holding up?"
Jonathan hesitated, glancing at Martha. She stood nearby, her expression tight with worry.
"Everything's fine. Your mother wants to talk to you for a bit."
After handing the phone to her, Jonathan sat down heavily, the lines on his face deepening.
Martha's voice softened when she spoke.
"Adrian, don't worry too much about us, alright? Focus on what you're doing."
"We'll find Clark."
Jonathan sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.
"It's not like before. This isn't just Clark trying to get away from an awkward conversation. Something's… off. He's different this time."
Martha's eyes dimmed.
"Do you think we're doing the right thing? Not telling Adrian about him?"
Jonathan's voice was low.
"If anyone can find Clark, it's Adrian. But if he gets involved… things might spiral out of control."
She squeezed his hand gently.
"Maybe. But if something happens, only Adrian can stop it."
Jonathan looked at her, conflicted.
"Tomorrow, I'll check the school. Maybe he'll show up."
"I hope so," Martha whispered.
But the fear in her eyes didn't fade.
---
The Next Morning
Jonathan's old pickup truck rattled to a stop in front of Smallville High.
He leaned on the steering wheel, scanning the crowd of teenagers spilling through the gates.
No sign of Clark.
Half an hour later, the low growl of a motorcycle broke through the chatter.
Jonathan looked up — Clark rode in, a rebellious-looking girl clinging to his back, her punk-styled hair catching the morning light.
He parked near the gate, removed his sunglasses, and exchanged a few flirtatious words with her.
That's when Chloe, Pete, and Lana arrived — just in time to witness the scene.
"Whoa," Chloe said dramatically, raising her eyebrows.
"What happened to our shy, small-town Clark? Who replaced him with Mr. Motorcycle Heartbreaker?"
Clark smirked, hanging his helmet on the handlebar.
"Relax, Chloe. I just gave her a ride. If you want, I could give you one too."
Chloe froze, caught between amusement and something else.
She glanced at Lana, then forced a small smile.
"I'll pass."
She walked off quickly, with Lana following close behind.
Pete grinned.
"Clark Kent, the ladies' man. Never thought I'd see the day."
Clark shrugged.
"People change, Pete."
The sound of a car door slamming broke the moment.
Jonathan had stepped out of his truck, face stern.
"Clark, we need to talk."
Clark's fingers brushed over the ruby ring on his hand, his expression tightening.
"Not now, Dad."
Jonathan frowned.
"What?"
"I said not now."
He turned to leave, but Jonathan's patience snapped.
He grabbed his son's jacket.
"Clark, I told you to get in the car."
"Why should I?"
"Because I'm your father," Jonathan said firmly, locking eyes with him.
"Now get in the car."
Clark's voice rose, cold and sharp.
"No. You're not my father!"
Before Jonathan could react, Clark shoved him — a simple push, but packed with superhuman strength.
The older man was thrown backward, slamming into the bed of the pickup truck with a violent crash.
"Ugh—!"
Jonathan slid down to the ground, clutching his chest and gasping for air.
Clark froze for a moment, staring at what he'd done.
But then his face hardened, the warmth draining from his eyes.
Without another word, he walked toward the school.
Pete rushed to Jonathan's side.
"Uncle, are you alright?"
Jonathan groaned but managed a weak nod, his pride hurt more than his body.
---
Inside Smallville High
Clark strode down the hallway, his steps echoing.
Students turned to look but quickly looked away.
He stopped when he saw Ms. Aikins, the biology teacher, sorting through her locker.
"Hey, Ms. Aikins," he said smoothly.
"New look today. That dress really suits you."
She turned, her long green Bohemian dress flowing softly around her.
The outfit brought a mix of freedom and allure — the kind of energy Clark wasn't used to seeing from her.
"Well," Ms. Aikins said with a small smile,
"Bohemian style is all about wandering, freedom, and defiance of rules. Maybe that's why it feels right."
Clark leaned against the locker beside her, his voice dropping into a teasing tone.
"I know a place like that. Loud music, flashing lights, no rules — maybe that's what you need. A night to let go."
She held up a finger, stopping him from stepping closer.
"No, Clark. I already have someone who gave me that feeling once."
He blinked, surprised.
"What?"
"Your brother," she said quietly.
"Adrian Kent."
Clark stiffened.
Her voice turned wistful.
"When we were together, every moment with him was… intense. Fear and excitement tangled together. He made my heart race in ways no one else could. You and he — you're different. I can't feel that same power in you, Clark."
He clenched his jaw as she continued, unfazed.
"You can act rebellious all you want, but you'll never surpass your brother. Adrian has something you don't."
Her words were sharp, but her tone was calm.
"So no, Clark. You could never charm me. Not now, not ever."
She brushed past him, her perfume lingering in the air.
Clark's hands balled into fists.
I'm not as good as Adrian?
The thought burned through him.
He slammed his fist into the locker — metal crumple
d inward with a deafening clang, startling nearby students.
"Then we'll see," he muttered under his breath.
---
Yo, Clark's bout to have a villain arc, lmao
__
I'll be dropping a 50% discount code for my Patreon membership on the 15th, in celebration of the upcoming Christmas season.
The code will be active from that day until the end of the month.
Stay tuned