Chapter One: The Bookstore on 44th
The first customer of the day was Peter Parker.
Well — Peter in a hoodie, glasses, and a very bad attempt at a fake mustache.
Eli raised an eyebrow from behind the counter.
"You know I know who you are, right?"
Peter froze, holding a copy of Of Mice and Men like it was a shield. "Wait — you do?"
"You come in every Thursday, ask for poetry recs, and tip in Stark tech pens. You're not exactly subtle."
Peter winced. "Okay, fair. But don't tell anyone. Midtown High still thinks I transferred to Oregon."
Eli smiled and rang him up.
Peter didn't know this, but Eli could feel it — the tension in his spine, the way guilt buzzed behind his smile like a broken bulb. The weight of expectations. Of being young and too important.
Eli exhaled quietly and let the emotion flow through him.
Like drawing in static and releasing it as soft jazz.
Peter blinked.
"…Did you just… make me feel better?"
Eli shrugged. "Must be the bookstore smell. Calms everyone."
Later That Day
A girl burst in, eyes wild, hijab flying behind her like a cape.
"WHERE'S THE FIRE EXTINGUISHER?!"
Eli blinked. "Backroom. Wait — Kamala?!"
Kamala Khan, aka Ms. Marvel, was already halfway to the back.
"Popcorn fire! In my backpack! Long story!"
Minutes later, she returned, slightly singed but grinning.
"You didn't see that."
"I definitely did."
"Coolcoolcool. This never happened."
She took a stack of graphic novels, handed over a soggy five-dollar bill, and fled before Eli could comment.
He didn't stop smiling for five minutes.
Evening – Rooftop Moments
At night, Eli sat on the fire escape of his apartment, sipping tea with his neighbor: MJ.
She didn't talk much, which he liked.
"I saw Spider-Man on the news," she said, legs swinging off the edge.
Eli nodded. "He came in today. Looked tired."
"He always does," she murmured. "Like he's carrying something no one can help him with."
Eli was quiet.
Then: "You ever wish you could make it easier for people?"
MJ looked over. "You kinda do. Just… being you."
And for a moment, Eli let the hum of the city fade, and poured that soft comfort outward — letting the stress of MJ's day, her quiet fears, her unspoken grief — melt into peace.
She didn't notice.
But she smiled.
That was enough.
Closing Time
Eli locked up the bookstore, humming a song no one else could hear.
A soft song that echoed in the hearts of everyone who had walked through the door that day.
He wasn't an Avenger.
He wasn't in the spotlight.
He didn't wear a mask.
But maybe — just maybe — being a small light in a dark city was enough.
Tomorrow, someone new would walk through the door.
And Eli Noor would be there, offering them a book, a smile… and a piece of peace they didn't know they needed.
---
TO BE CONTINUED....