Wild Cards

Chapter 11: Shattered Dreams

The madness just seems to keep escalating here in Gotham City.  Wild protests have erupted against the man running for mayor, Thomas Wayne.  The clown mask epidemic is running rampant now.  They're on every street corner, every subway train and even around campus at Gotham U.  It feels as though the chaos is unrelenting and completely inescapable.

The following day, my professor asks that I stay after class to discuss something.  Apparently, one of the students accused me of cheating off her paper during my exam last Monday.  He tells me that some of our sentences match word for word and the explanation that the other girl delivered was that I copied off of her essay.

I repeatedly deny these claims, knowing that it's the other way around and this was someone else's desperate attempt to pass the class.  However, arguing is futile because I later learn, through word of mouth, that the girl's father is the chancellor of the school.

So now here I am, expelled from Gotham University, for doing absolutely nothing wrong.  My life, my hopes and my dreams have truly become a comical, cruel joke.  The only shining beacon of light that I have left is Arthur and I haven't heard from him since that strange night at the hospital.

Returning home to my unkempt apartment, I plop down on my dusty old couch, and begin to sob into one of the navy-blue pillows.  I think I've finally reached my breaking point and there's no going back now. Emotionally, it's as if I am broken, scarred and damaged beyond any hope of repair.  I would feel completely and utterly alone if it wasn't for-

A repetitive thumping on my door rips me away from my negative thoughts.  I reluctantly stand up to answer it, wiping away tears with the sleeves of my green sweater.  Without even looking in a mirror, I know I must be a hideous mess right now.  Pushing my tangled hair out of my face and rubbing my sore red eyes, I unlatch the door and yank it open.

Arthur appears crestfallen, standing in my doorway with that unchanging blank stare, dripping wet from the major downpour outside.  His hair and clothes are thoroughly soaked as a result of the torrential weather.  Wordlessly, I usher him inside and shut the door.  He numbly takes a seat on my couch and I really couldn't care less at this point if he gets the fabric wet.

Honestly, why care about these trivial things anymore?

I cautiously sit beside him and try to coax him into talking.  "Arthur... what's wrong?"

He stares at the coffee table in front of us and whispers in a monotone voice, "I had a bad day."

I huff and swipe another tear off my face.  "That makes two of us."

He finally turns his head to me and now seems to notice my disheveled, emotionally unstable appearance.

"Why are you crying, baby?" he asks softly.  I breathe out a tiny laugh at his recycling of the fond term I once used for him.  My brief spurt of joy only lasts a few seconds before reality sets in again and I desperately cling to Arthur for solace and strength.

His arms ensnare me tightly and I cry into his chest, bawling my eyes out once more.  He gently slides his fingers through my hair, brushing back the wild strands.

After thoroughly relinquishing all of my pent-up emotions, I move away from his chest, but still keep him at arm's length.

I sniffle before launching into my plight.  "I was expelled today."

Arthur squints in confusion.  "Why?"

"Because of a false accusation from a very powerful student."

Arthur closes his eyes, letting out a deep, frustrated sigh and burying his head in his hands.  I think I hear him mutter, "Not real", under his breath.

"Don't," I say, prying his hands away from his face and lifting his chin up so I can clearly see his eyes.  His beautiful emerald eyes that now brim with unshed tears.  "What happened to you today?"

He looks down at the cushions and begins pulling at a single thread.  "My mother... she lied to me.  About everything.  She's not even my mother.  I was adopted.  And she let bad people hurt me when I was a boy.  She's the reason I'm..."  He trails off before beginning to chuckle sadly.  I instantly realize that one of his terrible fits has started.

I take his unoccupied hand and grip it tight, hugging it to my chest.

"It's so unfair, Arthur," I shake my head.  "So, so fucked up."

After a couple of minutes, the distraught laughter subsides.  "I don't want to feel this pain anymore," his raspy voice whispers.

I scoot closer to him and then place my palms on either side of his face.  "Then we won't," I state with certainty, before leaning in and kissing his beautiful lips.

After a beat, he begins to respond, kissing me back just as heatedly.  I move onto his lap and straddle his waist.  His hands move to hold me in place as I continue to deepen the kiss.  My palms skim through his soaked curls and his wet clothes dampen mine.  But I don't give a single fuck at this current moment. 

Because there's only Arthur and me now.  Arthur and me against this monstrous, corrupt city.