My SpaceHey Kitten: A Riddlebat Story

Chapter 14: RA RA RA RA RA RO MA RO MA MA GA GA OOH LA LA

I lived in the Wayne Manor alone. With Alfredo. Even though Alfredo lived here, I was alone. Joe Chili murdered my parents. I was an orphan. My name was Bruce Wayne. I was written to be around 30 years old. They made me 20 in this fan fiction. I believed in wearing eyeliner, free robux, and the MCR reunion. In the morning, if I didn't look emo enough, I would pack on heavy black eyeliner while updating my SpaceHey status: i'm not okay (i promise) well, if you wanted honesty that's all you had to say i never want to let you down or you have to go, it's better off this way for all the dirty looks the photographs your boyfriends took remember when you broke your foot from jumping out the second floor i'm not okay i'm not okay i'm not okay you wear me out. There was an idea of a Bruce Wayne, some kind of abstraction, but there was no real me. Only an entity, something illusory. And though I could hide my cold gaze, and you could shake my hand and feel flesh gripping yours and maybe you could even sense our lifestyles were probably comparable, I simply was not there.

I trembled with excitement for my date with the Riddler. Was it a date? I wasn't sure. I guess I would know once we got the paycheck. One singular paycheck? For the two of us? US? Together or separate? TOGETHER?? Were we together...? Did I need to ask Alfredo if I could borrow his credit card?? Wait. The thigh highs incident. I doubted he would let himself trust me with credit card privileges ever again. This month's Hot Topic eyeliner was already running dull—my lack of a credit card was more dire of a situation than I imagined. Wasn't my Hot Topic account under Alfredo's information?
Without his credit card, how else was I supposed to score Hot Topic points and a limited edition Seven Deadly Sins shirt for bogo (that means buy one get one free, the 12-year-old on Omegle serving as my new therapist told me). Soon enough, I, Vengeance, would devise a grand scheme to take back both my credit card privileges and my Hot Topic account. For now, I needed to look as different from the ordinary population as possible and transform into my hero, CrankthatFrank. I referred to the epically edited and heavily contrasted photo of Frank and heated up my straightener.

I needed to talk to the Riddler. I needed him to look me in the eyes, so I could remind him this wasn't him. Yeah, he might have been scorned and evil, but I knew this kind, soft, and even more sweaty side of him. I could change his mind; I could fix him. This wasn't him. If I could talk to him tonight, I bet he would listen, and we could run away to the Batcave together. I just knew this wasn't him; I needed to save him. He didn't need me as Vengeance, he needed me as Bruce. And I was going to be there for him. Unlike his parents who were not there for him, just like mine because they were dead.

I finished straightening my hair. I decided I needed some practice before the meeting. I stared at the mysterious grunge y2k vintage scene kid aesthetic man in front of me and imagined I was confronting the Riddler. I didn't even know his real name. In a cosplay tiktoker fashion, I rehearsed my lines. Was it possible to include some Junko poses? Would it be appropriate? I told my reflection that the best thing for him, for us, was to abandon the No More Lies Movement, to stop killing people. He'd done enough damage already; he was surely the most wanted man in Gotham. The whole GCPD was after him, and it was only a matter of time until he was discovered. If we had a chance, he couldn't throw it away like this. I was the only one who could save him.

And somehow, he saved me.

The last few years of my life had been nothing but despair and vengeance. I had lost all relationships because the only relationship I sought was the one with my parents, who had died. I didn't realize how lonely I was until I met him. In the weeks chatting with him on SpaceHey, I remembered how it felt like to be loved and heard. It scared me to think about how I would have ended up if I had never met him.

And to think that he fell in love with me without even knowing who I actually was. I had been to enough banquets and galas to know that people were only interested in me because I was a Wayne. Because I had money. And the media swooned over the mysterious Vengeance and suspected who was underneath the mask. But the Riddler loved me for me.

Sure, he nearly killed my butler, but that was a lack of judgment. He was clearly sick, but I wanted to be the one to help him. While I had the comforts of Alfred and the lofty Wayne Manor as an orphan, the Riddler had nothing. I couldn't fathom or even pretend to know how that felt. He grew up rightfully fueled by his anger at the world that had failed him. His movement was a worthy cause; he was going to accomplish what politicians and vigilantes alike had not been able to do: end corruption in Gotham.

The difference between me and him was that I knew that there was always another way. His methods have brought only more pain and destruction that he couldn't see. He wanted Gotham to feel how he had felt for all those years alone. Worst of all, he was going to destroy our relationship, whatever it was. That was how I was going to approach this confrontation. Our relationship was all that mattered.

While Batman was Gotham's hero, Bruce would be the Riddler's hero.

I then grabbed my studded belt, slapped the top of the door frame, walked out the door, and began my arduous journey to the diner.