|the_bat_man (the_bat_man) wrote in dc_universe,|
@ 2010-04-22 10:39:00
The man in the private box had a stupid grin on his face. Though his suit was perfectly pressed, his breath smelled like alcohol. The busty redhead and pretty blonde were fussing with his shoulders. He wasn’t interested.
The stage held his attention. It had been years since he had seen his childhood friend, and he wasn’t sure how he would be received. He had left for the Far East before things could get interesting. She kissed him once, and he didn’t forget it. She had sent him letters while he was away, but stopped when he was presumed dead. There had been many “she’s.”
Bruce Wayne looked down over the balcony at the audience. This was surely the most eclectic crowd in many months. The Mercury Theater was not known for a common audience, but few could draw a crowd like Zatanna Zatara. For the next couple of hours, he was part of that crowd…
…at least in body. He tickled the blonde’s stomach, playing the part of a drunken elitist ready for a night of frivolous activities. Then he put his arm on the rail, and rested his head on it. The girls behind him started chattering, while Bruce feigned sleep.
His senses were not alarmed as he memorized the faces of the crowd. The audience was happy. After the chaos of the previous few months, Gotham had earned a well-deserved break. He saw the smiling faces of children. Bruce Wayne was one of the few who deeply understood the need for entertainment. He comprehended the value of enjoying one’s life, and living life to the fullest. He knew it, because such was unattainable. He hadn’t been a child since he was 8 years old, the night Bruce Wayne died. He watched the smiling children as a perfectly honed shell. To the public, Bruce was a drunken socialite who contributed little. It was his greatest disguise.
The beast was beginning to take over. Even now, Bruce slightly moved his leg. The substance in his pocket could not be identified. The lab results provided more questions. There was no known chemical compound to be found. Even the core of the green substance had left his vast equipment confounded. There was one logical conclusion, one Bruce even now was hesitant to accept—the substance was alien in origin.
Perhaps she could help him. Then the curtain opened, and Bruce’s attention focused to the stage.