My Clown

3

I sat slumped on the subway, tears formed in the corner of my eyes. Thoughts spun around my head and I was getting a throbbing headache. I took off my wig and stuffed it in my bag. I couldn't go back to Ha-Ha's to collect my props in my locker, not after what had just happened. So I felt like it was best to go in the morning.

I looked up and found Carnival sitting near the end of the car. Funny how I didn't notice him coming on the subway. Hey wait a sec! Why was Arthur in his uniform?

I went down to sit next to him. He didn't notice, still gazing out the window lost in his thoughts. I patted him lightly on the shoulder, still aware of his injury. He jumped a little and quickly turned his head to face me.

His eyes widened and a big smile drew across his face, "Oh hi y/n!" he said excitedly, "How come you're still in your uniform?"

"I was just about to ask the same thing," I giggled.

His smile disappeared and he frowned, "I was fired," he muttered under his breath, while scratching the back of his neck.

"No shit! Same."

He squinted his eyes in confusion, "How?"

"Oh, this man started touching me and stuff at his daughter's birthday party but then I got the blame and well yeah," I explained, trying to seem not bothered.

"How come you got the blame?" his voice raising a bit higher.

"The man told his wife that I came on to him and she believed it and then called Hoyt."

"But that isn't fair!" he shook his head.

"It's Gotham Art, it's filled with so many awful people, they won't listen to a penniless outcast."

I sighed and rubbed the temples of my head. I felt a sudden anger rise in me. Arthur was right, it wasn't fair. I've just about had enough of the people in Gotham, I was seriously about to loose it.

I asked, "What happened to you then?"

He looked around to check if anyone was listening. There was just a woman sitting across us who had her head stuck in her book. He whispered in my ear, "I brought a gun into the children's hospital."

I gasped quietly, "Arthur-"

"It's for self defence!" he said hurriedly, "Randall gave it to me just in case if anyone would try to hurt me, but then it fell out of my pocket while I was entertaining the sick kids, but I heard that Randall told Hoyt that I tried to buy a .38 of from him!"

"Randall? That bastard! Why would he do that?"

"I don't know. I thought he was my friend."

I huffed, "Self defence huh. You know, I've always carried this pocket knife with me whenever I'm out," I took it out of my bag and showed him, "I've never told anyone, they'd probably think I'm crazy. It's a dangerous world out there Arthur, you have to be prepared. I wish I had this with me at the party, luckily I got away from him before he could do anything to me."

The train stopped and three drunk Wall Street men stepped on, acting obnoxious and loud. Arthur scooted closer to me, clearly uncomfortable. He didn't like being in situations like this, when he was around people with higher power and confidence, making him shrink even more.

One of them sat down across from the book lady and waved his bag of fries in her face, "Hey. You want some french fries?"

His attempt for trying to get her attention failed, he tried again, "Hello? I'm talking to you. Hey!"

Feeling irritated enough, she looked up and answered, "No thank you."

"You sure? They're really good."