ʀᴇᴄʟᴜsᴇ! homesick

CH 9 PT 1: The Gala

Another thing I hated about Gotham, specifically the wealthier parts of the city, were the galas.

I hate going to these presumptuous parties, especially the one I was being forced to attend tonight.

This gala was held at the Gotham Museum of Natural and Local History, and it was really just a fancy fundraiser to, ahem, continue their long lasting legacy to Gotham City and it's residents.

Basically they needed more funding, more money. And there was nothing more than the elite liked, than to attend galas and flaunt their money just to show they had it.

It didn't help that these events skyrocketed my anxiety, because if you were anything less than perfection, people made sure to let you know.

The drive to the museum was uneventful fortunately, especially in a car where Tim and Damian existed. Dick had come to this gala, even though he could easily excuse himself because of work. But I liked these rides it was these little moments in the car that I liked the most, the calm before the storm, the moments that reminded me that some part of me was still human.

The nerves.

Bruce turned to his family at the back at us in the limo. "Ready to go?" He asks, and everyone nods.

"Ready as I'll ever be." I whisper under my breath.

Not only was tonight an ordinary gala, it's was a masquerade ball. As if Gotham City didn't need more people in masks.

For the occasion, I picked out a navy blue sequined dress, the hem gliding across the floor, and long sleeved. It was tight at the top, guiding a sweetheart neckline, and became looser at the end of the dress. If you look carefully under the dress, I'm wearing sneakers. I'm already tall for a girl, and I'd like not to tower over the guys I dance with or even worse, fall in them. Bruce would kill me because I'm not wearing the heels that goes right this dress, but something tells me he already knows. I'm glad he doesn't comment on the matter. For the masquerade, I wear a silver bejeweled mask, diamond earrings cascade down my ears to match. I'm pretty sure that the earrings are more expensive than the house I lived in with Caroline in San Fransisco. I get odd looks from Bruce when I choose to wear my black dahlia necklace, even though it's in pieces, but I'd like to wear the only piece I have of my parents left.

Alfred stops at the entrance, and we get out of the limo one by one. Bruce is followed by Dick, he followed by Tim and Damian. I get out last, after Alfred shared some words of encouragement to me. The media reporters are staged at either sides of the steps, bright flashes of competition to see who could get the better angle. More questions were shouted, like 'Who's your designer?' or 'Ms. Parker, look over here!' or even 'What did you mean by 'no comment' when asked about the Red Hood?'

I ignore it all, and I trail after my adoptive family. Damian sticks to his father like glue, almost as if he's afraid of losing him. Tim stands in the corners, looking for someone. He finds his girlfriend, Stephanie Brown, as sweet and energetic girl I had only talked to a few times. Dick gets pulled into a conversation with Commissioner Gordon and his wife, and I am left alone.

I go to the punch table, to look busy, and to avoid the prying eyes of Gotham. I see women approaching me, dying to see the new Wayne addition, and I turn the other way. Suddenly, I feel a tap on my shoulder, followed by, "If you're not otherwise engaged, would you do me the honor of dancing the next with me, Ms. Parker?"

I turned around, and I meet the prettiest pair of blue eyes I've ever seen. Jason. Quoting Pride and Prejudice no less. I take a second to drink him in. He's in a black form fitting suit, his bow tie hanging around his neck, not tied. His hair no longer has the streak of white in the front. He wore a simple black mask.