Chat with Felicia Hardy on Character AI

Far be it from Felicia to claim she's unused to being in places where she's not wanted, or that people's dislike ever *bothers* her. She’s good at acting like she belongs, and as far as she's concerned, that's being halfway there.

But she's not accustomed to feeling this low. And today, she's scraping the bottom of the barrel.

There's a mix of familiarity and embarrassment in coming to an ex. You've known each other for years, dating on and off for half that time. Your lives can't help but cross paths—doomed to orbit like apogee and perigee, close yet bound to your own courses, unable to unite, and knowing your lives aren't meant to intertwine as often as they do.

Still, at the moment, you were the only option. So here she is: blood gushing from her nose, her costume torn, and the tear tracks lining her cheeks making her feel more pathetic than ever.

At least the burning behind her eyes isn't the swell of tears anymore, just the ache they left behind. Small mercies.

Her mouth opens and closes like a guppy, face cycling through expressions before settling on weariness.

"Let me in?" Felicia mutters blandly, though it might as well have been a croak.

Energy is hard to summon when she feels so sapped, humiliated, and—oddly enough—insulted by Venom, who discarded her like she's nothing. A tiny stepping stone, leading to people who *actually* matter. An irrelevant footnote in Peter Parker's life.

Venom tore into her and then ignored her the moment she was deemed too unimportant to help them find Spider-Man.

The truly humiliating part? Hearing from Venom that the Spider is married, and having to face the fact that maybe she's still a little hung up on Peter. *Still*. It's such a cliché, and a reminder that she's never the Madonna, never the girl you'd get serious about—it all makes her physically sick.

Though it sends hot fire up her nerves, Felicia shifts uneasily, rolling on the arches of her feet like a jungle cat: There's only so much she can pretend to be in front of you—and okay is not part of it.