Behind The Red Hood

A New Job (Gwen)

Sorry- The first few chapters will be a bit short and will mainly set up the story to come :) Feel free to comment especially since this is my first story ever.

The clock was taunting me. I had only been in the waiting room of Gotham Tribune for seven minutes and thirty six seconds yet it felt as though I had been sitting in the black leather chair for an eternity. The room was spacious and filled with afternoon light from the large windows that were in the offices. I took a deep breath. I know I shouldn't be nervous, I could get a job with any major newspaper in the country. I had been a freelance journalist since I graduated and as of right now, I was the youngest reporter to have been nominated for a Pulitzer.

When the young blonde receptionist called my name, I barely heard her since I was so intent on calming my nerves. "Gwenevere Tyler," she said sounding slightly annoyed, "follow me please." I stood and pressed my hands to skirt, ridding it of any wrinkles it might have possessed. After making sure my curly brown hair was tucked neatly into its bun, I followed the receptionist down the corridor.

When I reached the office of Eliza Banks, the chief writer of Gotham Tribune, I was impressed by its massive size. Now I definitely understood why I wanted to work in an office rather then my shabby apartment. Ms. Banks had small evenly spaced eyes that were accompanied by a long nose that hooked over continually pursed lips, which were painted a bright red in an unsuccessful effort to mask their natural thinness. God, I hated red lipstick. Despite her small frame, she was very intimidating; she exuded confidence and authority.

"Miss. Tyler," she exclaimed, "I've read your pieces and needless to say I am quite impressed. You last piece on the criminal mind was brilliant if must say so myself." I slid into the chair placed in front of her large dark desk.

"Thank you Ms. Banks, It's truly an honor hearing that from a legend such as yourself." I replied, feeling slightly more relaxed.

"Ah, nothing's better then getting a compliment such as that, yet in this world, Miss. Tyler, flattery will get you nowhere." She smiled taunting me to reply.

"Well it's a good thing that I have the talent to go along with it." I grinned.

"And there is the confident reporter I was looking for. Now, down to business Miss. Tyler, It's obvious you're qualified for the job so if you want it, it's yours. But I have one question, why stay in Gotham when you could go anywhere else?"

"Because there is always a story."

My answer seemed to do the trick because Ms. Banks extended her hand and said, "Monday morning, seven o'clock, don't be late."

The subway ride to my apartment passed by in a blur. As I got farther away from Gotham Tribune and the tall skyscrapers of central Gotham like Wayne Tower, I knew I was approaching my stop. When I left the train the usual smell of sewage and the brightly colored graffiti that covered all visible surfaces greeted me. Sure, I could probably afford a place in a nicer part of town, but my motto was: to get the story, you have to be a part of it. When I reached my apartment, which was stationed above a rundown liquor store, I was ready to slip into my sweatpants and take off the stilettos that had cursed my feet all day. I turned the key to my apartment and shouted, "Honey, I'm home." What I didn't expect was the crash that came from my bedroom, especially since I lived alone.