Masks: A New Generation is the only way I want to relive my teenage years

Ted just wanted to be normal. 

While the rest of his friends and classmates were patching their jackets, ripping their jeans, and dying their hair, Ted wore modestly priced khakis and button down shirts. His peers skipped class to smoke in the bathroom, or else filled their evenings with class council meetings, band practice and sports teams. Ted took a bus home, listening to Radiohead on his Walkman while staring at his black converse–are these too provocative? He has some white New Balance sneakers in his closet.

His classmates rebelled, swore, and spat. They screamed anger at teachers and authority that Ted believed must be performative because he could find no spark inside himself. They hated and feared things in a world closing on them from all sides, while Ted just hated himself.

Ah, there’s the fire. 

Ted wanted to be normal but knew it was impossible. He was what some might call a hero, a masked do-gooder who protected the city from criminals armed with superpowers to match his own. His peers were beloved scions of peace and prosperity, cheered in public and adored by all. They were beautiful, composed and confident–all things that Ted sorely lacked.