*the next day*
I approach Queens Tower, taking a deep breath.
This is going to be one of the single most shameful moments in my life, but I know how important this is to my mom, so I have to make it right.
I walk into the building and toward the front desk. "Hi, what can I help you with," the woman behind the counter asks.
"I need to speak with Mr. Queen."
"Do you have an appointment?"
"No, but I have a feeling he's expecting me," I answer.
"I can't let you up there without an appointment."
"I'm one of his... friends," I lie. "And he won't be happy to know that you're not letting his friend through when it's... urgent." Her eyes widen nervously, and she nods.
"Okay, go ahead."
"Thanks." I walk towards the elevator, stepping in. I press the button at the very top, and the door's close.
I hope he isn't mad about me kind of... slamming the door in his face. I brought a bottle of champagne to make up for it.
Once the elevator stops, the door's open, and I slowly step out. I take a look around his very modern and expensive-looking loft.
This is really nice, and I bet the view is amazing.
"How'd you get through," I hear the familiar voice question.
"I lied and said I was a friend and that you wouldn't be happy when you found out they wouldn't let me through," I answer, turning around. I walk up the steps to see him doing a hand-stand without a shirt on.
It's not a bad sight. Not a bad sight at all...
"Hm. Maybe I should fire the person who let you through," he says.
"Possibly, but in her defense, I can be very convincing." He steps back, out of his hand-stand position, turning around to face me. "Not bad. I enjoy yoga, too."
"I find the focus really benefits my work," he admits. "So what you brings you here?"
"I have a feeling you already know," I say.
"It was either this or... what?"
"Nothing really, but... I know how important this is to her, so I came here on my own," I admit, holding out the bottle of champagne. He takes it from me, reading the label.
"That's good... and expensive. How'd you get it?"
"That's for me to know and you to find out," I smirk.
"Mysterious and beautiful... I like it," he states.
"Look... I'm sorry for slamming the door in your face and treating you like an errand boy. To be honest, I had no idea who you were."
"Clearly. I have a proposal for you," he says.
"Already? We just met."
He chuckles. "Come with me to Lex Luthor's ball."
"Why should I?"
"If you're really sorry, then you'll come. If you come, I'll support you mom's platform."
"Well, as much as I would love to, I don't have a costume."
"Hmm... You don't have a costume," he thinks. He walks over to his desk and grabs a white present box with a bow on top.
"Right," I say, walking over to it.
"Here you go." I slowly open the box to see a gorgeous costume inside.
"How did you know my size?"
"Lucky guess and a good eye," he shrugs.
"Of course." I place the top back on the box, speaking. "Okay, I'll come with you."
"That's what I like to hear."
