Love, Hate, and Family Ties

Mr. Jackson

I walk with my hood up and my head down. I don't like my face being seen. I've already washed off the face paint and put the mask away.

If people saw my face they wouldn't recognize me. But I still feel self conscious.

As I was walking, and hauling ass I might add, I bumped into a man dragging rolling luggage behind him. He dropped the handle as we collided.

"Shit, sorry man. I didn't see you." I said picking up the luggage handle for him. As he takes it from me I look up at his face for the first time.

Oh. Shit. That's. No. What would he be doing here? Why?

"It's fine I wasn't looking either." He holds his hand out for me to shake. "Michael. Michael Jackson. What's you're name?"

Chill Amber. Chill. Whatever you do don't tell him your last name.

"I'm... Uh ... Amber. If you don't mind my asking, what's a respected guy like you doing in a shithole like Gotham?"

He sighs. "It's the last place my family would think I would go. So that where I went."

"Ahhh. Family issues. Got it. Where are you staying?"

"I'm staying at a rented house in the city. If you don't mind MY asking, what's a girl like you doing in a place like this?"

I blush. Then I realize I don't know how to answer that. I honestly don't know whats keeping me here. Not my dad. Maybe Carrie. But to be completely honest I don't know why I'm here.

"Well. I've lived here all my life. I've gotten used to it here." I say. Feeling like that's as close to the truth as I'll get.

He nods. "I guess I understand that. You've built a life here. You don't want to give it up and start over just yet. Makes sense. May I ask your age or is that prying?"

I'm amazed at what a gentleman he is. Well, when the most male company you have is the Joker and a few horrible exes, a rock would probably be considered polite.

"It's not prying at all. I'm twenty three."

He smiles. It's a gentle smile. The only one who ever gives me a gentle smile is Carrie.

"So young. So much to live for. This city won't do you any kind of good."

Ha. Never heard a truer statement.

"No where else to go. How old are you?"

He bites his lip. "Thirty. I'm getting old"

"That's not old..."

I trail off before my next thought when I notice the tvs in the shop across the street. They're tuned to the Gotham news network. It's showing live footage of my father in a car chase in the van. He's hanging out of the drivers side window with one hand on the wheel.

"Oh I've heard of him. That's the Joker right?" Michael says looking curiously at the screens.

"Uhh ... Yeah. It is. It might be a good idea if we get you to your house. And fast." I say putting my hand on his back, still staring at the screens.

"I know the way. But would you walk with me? I'd feel more comfortable if I had a local with me." He says, blushing.

Distracted by my thoughts I agree to walk with him.

When we get there we say our goodbyes.

I start walking toward where home is. When I hear his voice behind me.

"Amber! Wait!"

I turn and he's running over to me.

"Can I get your number?" He says, obviously nervous.

"Do you have a pen and paper?" I ask.

"I'll write it on my hand." He says after pulling a pen out of his luggage.

I give him my number and he promises to text me.

After our second round of good byes I walk home to where the Clown would inevitably be waiting.