Peter was pretty darn sure that J. Jonah Jameson was having a bromance with whoever was editing Gotham's paper. Did they sit together and giggle about what they wrote about him? Possibly. It was like some cruel joke and the only person not laughing was Peter because he didn't get it. Spider-Man did great things! All the pictures he took, he was so sure it made him look awesome, but noooo, they were twisted and Spider-Man would be in an article, causing more ruckus and being a nuisance to the public. Awesome. This hero business wasn't cutting it, yet Peter knew he couldn't give up. All the comics he read, his heroes had difficult origin stories, this would be his!
Web slinging through the city, he came to where the opera house was located when he noticed a figure sitting on a roof. Peter allowed himself to stick to the wall of that same building and then slowly climbed up, peeking over to see...
Oh.
She was...um, pretty. Was it getting hot there? Random heatwave in that particular part of the city where everywhere else is was the usual chilly March weather? Maybe. But people didn't wear costumes like that unless they were villains! Except Spider-Man. Spider-Man was a hero, he told himself and then climbed up all the way, clearing his throat.
"Nice night," he said and immediately felt like a doofus but thankfully stopped himself from speaking further.