I gazed out of the window as the bus rolled into town. The last time I’d been here, when I’d bought the tickets, it was already dark so I couldn’t see any real details, but the place looked really nice.

“It’s beautiful here,” I said to Michelle. She was sitting next to me on the crowded bus; we’d been forced to take transit to come here since neither of us owned a car, or even a driving license for that matter.

She turned her eyes from the view to me. “I know,” she replied. “I grew up in this town.”

“Oh really?” I queried. “And why’d you move away?”

“I’d already left before… Well… Before we first met,” she answered. I understood what she meant. “I’d bought our place cheap at auction with some money I had saved, because was more convenient for my college. And even though the town itself may look nice, there are some… Unsavoury types hanging around these parts.”

“What exactly do you mean by that?” I was genuinely interested now. Michelle seemed to be very friendly with everyone she met, I couldn’t imagine her arguing with someone, or even fighting them.

“Let’s just say ya girl has had her bumps and scrapes, even though she may not show them,” she replied with a cheeky smile. “’Twas many years ago though, most of the people I’ve had trouble with have probably since moved on. And even if they didn’t, they probably wouldn’t recognise me anyway,” she said with a wink.

The bus slowed to a stop right in front of the movie theatre; this, at least, was convenient. “Come on,” said Michelle, getting up from her seat and grabbing me by the hand to pull me up. “We only have about half an hour before the movie starts, and I want to buy some snacks and drinks.”

Four hours later we walked out of the theatre, stretching to drive away the kinks brought on by sitting way too long. “That was cool,” I said. Michelle nodded in agreement.

“It’s kinda funny though,” she said as we started towards the bus stop, “That they had to send Danvers away for most of the movie with a handwavy excuse, else she would have ended the final battle before it even began.”

I chuckled. “Yeah, that’s true,” I replied. “Oh, and you know what I’d like to see now? Some movies set during the five-year gap between snaps.”

“Really? Why?”

“Well, just think about it. Half of all life in the universe, including people, gone, just like that.” I snapped my fingers for emphasis. “That would have been sure to cause… Issues, to put it mildly.”

She caught where I was going. “Issues like, the complete breakdown of society?”

I nodded. “Precisely. We just barely saw a few glimpses of that, at the end of the previous movie. And then we cut to five years later, as everyone has pretty much settled into the new normal.”

We reached the bus stop, and Michelle started to check the schedule – we hadn’t thought to see at what time the bus to go back home was before leaving that morning – but she nodded to indicate that she was still listening. “So want to know what Cap and the others did in those five years.”

“Well, yes,” I said, “But not just them. I’m more interested in how the average, non-super person reacted to what the snap brought about.”

Michelle nodded again. “Yes, I get that. It would be nice to see.” Then she turned her attention away from the bus schedule and said, “Says here the next bus is in an hour and a half.”

I groaned. “Ugh, so long?”

“Not my fault,” she replied. “We just missed the previous one, if the movie had been ten minutes shorter we’d have caught it.”

“So what should we do in the meantime?” I asked.

“I remember a park about a ten minutes’ walk away from here,” Michelle said. “We can just sit on a bench and wait.”

And so we did. We kept chatting excitedly about the movie we’d just seen while we walked to the park, and then while we were sitting on the bench. Eventually the conversation just petered out on its own, and we just sat there in silence, side by side, enjoying the Spring sun.

Deep in my heart, I wished that moment could last forever.

“Well, well, who do we have here?” said a voice behind us; I felt Michelle tense beside me. “Or should I say, what do we have here?”

I turned around, but I shouldn’t have bothered: three blokes walked around the bench to stand before us. They were in their late thirties or thereabouts, and despite being way too old for it, they were dressed in tracksuits, like stereotypical chavs. They arranged themselves in a triangle formation, with the one who was clearly the leader in front; he was balding, but what little hair he had was dyed that piss-yellow colour idiots seem to love, and he wore an expression of disdain on his ugly mug. “Hello Michael, how are ya doing?” he asked, in a mocking voice.

Michelle had a clear edge in her voice when she answered. “Hallo Danny,” she said, giving him a terse nod. “Will. Pete.”

“Hafta say, ya got real guts showing your face ‘round these parts, Mike,” said Danny. “D’you remember what I said last time, freak?”

“I do, Danny,” replied Michelle in a quiet voice.

“And what d’ya have to say, hah?” continued Danny, taking a step forward and bending forward to look Michelle in the eye, his hands thrust into his trouser pockets, elbows wide; Michelle turned her face away and didn’t answer.

What the hell was going on? This wasn’t the girl I knew. This idiot was insulting her, intimidating her, and using her birth name – clearly on purpose – and she was just going to sit there and take it?

“And who’s this?” asked Danny, shifting his attention to me and looking me up and down. “Ya got yourself a boyfriend, Mikey-boy?”

When neither of us answered, he pressed further. “Listen, kid, maybe I shouldn’t be the one to tell you, but d’you know what this thing is?” he said, motioning to Michelle with his head. “Or maybe ya know and you’re just a fag?”

I tensed. It wasn’t even the intended insult aimed at me that made me seethe, as a bisexual man I’d heard worse, as much as it was the implication that only a gay man could fall in love with Michelle; there wasn’t anything even remotely masculine about her, and hearing this bloke dismissing her very being like that… I was almost ready to jump up and clock the bastard in the jaw, when I felt Michelle’s hand on mine, squeezing it; out of the corner of my eye I could see her looking at me, her face tense with worry, giving an almost imperceptible shake of her head. I grit my teeth and said nothing.

“Bah, you’re no fun,” said Danny when I didn’t react, righting himself and looking at Michelle. “I’m a busy man and I don’t have time to deal with ya right now, so you’re in luck. But remember what we said.” He turned to leave. “See ya, Mikey.”

“Michelle” I said, before I could stop myself.

Danny paused, and slowly turned back to look at me. His mouth widened into a grin mixed with a sneer.

“What was that?” he asked.

I took a breath, saw Michelle looking at me with wide eyes and mouthing “No”, but I was committed.

“Her name is Michelle,” I repeated, trying to keep the anger out of my voice.

Danny was amused now. “Did ya hear that, lads?” he called over his shoulder to his two cronies, who answered by laughing in sync. “Her name is Michelle!” he repeated, mockingly. “How cute, look at the faggot kid standing up for his tranny friend!”

He took a couple steps forward and he was in my face again. “I’m going to call that freak whatever I like. What are ya gonna do about it?”

I jumped to my feet and grabbed him by his tracksuit collar with my left arm, my other arm pulled back, ready to clock him… And found I wasn’t able to, as Michelle was on her feet too and holding my right arm to prevent me to throwing the punch. “Frank, no!” she said, in a panicked voice I’d never heard her use before.

I turned my head to look at her. “Please,” she repeated. “Don’t.”

“Ya should really listen to it, boy,” said Danny in a mocking voice. “It really knows better than you do.”

Hearing him referring to Michelle as an it I started struggling to free my arm, but Michelle was holding it fast. “Frank, please, stop,” she said again. “Please.”

And then we all froze when we heard a high-pitched whistle.

“Alright then, break it up now!” said a voice I recognised, and looking over my shoulder I could see two cops approaching at a half-run, one of them holding a metal whistle in his hand. I recognised them as Tony and Charlie, from our encounter more than a month before.

Of course. We were in a public park. Of course someone would call the police on us when they saw what was happening. It was a funny coincidence that they were the same cops we'd met before, though.

When the two reached us I was still holding Danny by his collar, my arm still cocked back, but my muscles weren’t tense any more; I knew this was over, at least for now.

“Break it up, I said!” said Tony, reaching us and separating me and Danny. He pushed us apart until we were standing a few feet away from each other.

“Who started this?” Tony asked, looking from me and Michelle to Danny and his cadre and back again. No one answered. “Well then,” Tony continued, “Now we can all walk away from this. Unless we have a problem, then we can go have a chat down at the station. Do we have a problem?”

“No problem at all, sir,” replied Danny in almost a sing-song voice. I didn’t answer.

“I said, do we have a problem?” Tony repeated, in a harsher tone of voice, looking at me expectantly.

I was almost about to answer yes, but Michelle gave my arm a squeeze, so I grudgingly replied, “No. No, we don’t.”

“Good,” said Tony. “Off y’all go, then.”

Danny gave a mocking wave. “See you around, Mikey!” he called, as he turned to leave. If Michelle hadn’t still been holding onto me I would have run up to him and punched him.

I let Michelle lead me away by the arm until we were a few hundred metres from the park, and then I stopped and she let me go. I stood there for a few seconds, trying to collect my thoughts, then burst out: “What the hell, Em? What was that all about?”

“I’m sorry, Frank,” said Michelle, but she didn’t elaborate further.

“You’re sorry for… What?” I asked. “You let that bastard walk all over you and not only you didn’t stand up for yourself, you stopped me when I was about to--”

“I’m sorry,” she repeated, interrupting me. “Danny and I have… History.”

“What kind of history?”

“I…” she began to say, then hesitated. She looked away. “I really can’t tell you.”

“You can’t or you won’t?” I asked pointedly. I was unwilling to let this go.

“I can’t, Frank,” Michelle said, looking into my eyes again. “I’m sorry, but I really can’t. Just, please, don’t… If you see that idiot again, don’t antagonise him? Please?” she said, in an almost pleading tone.

I was silent for a few moments, and then I replied, “...Fine. Let’s just go home.”

We didn’t speak another word to each other for the rest of the night.