Damian and Mar'i Demonfire

Disrespect

"Tt," I mutter to myself.

Watching rich imbeciles trying hard to impress each other is just pathetic to see. Tonight, the Wayne family was invited (forced) to attend a charity ball at the Wayne Tower by my father, as he was hosting the ball. Grayson, his daughter Mar'i, the nuisance Drake, and I were attending tonight.

Going to such events were rather redundant and dull, as I have been forced to attend many others by father. I had tried to convince father to let me go on patrol tonight as Robin (in order to avoid such a dull event), but he would not let me. My annoying Damian Wayne fan club of rich girls were giggling ridiculously across the room, occasionally glancing at my direction.

Shallow fools, I think to myself. Older guests ignored me, as they were more interested in talking and sucking up to my father, in order to make business deals with him. Of course, father was smarter than to succumb to such artificial flattery, as he was used to it. And to make things worse, I could not even enjoy the company of my beloved Mar'i.

Our dating is a secret to others because Grayson (her father) would never approve, and the fact that the paparazzi was always nosy about such relationships with models and billionaires' sons.

I mostly stay at a table by myself, sipping some water while struggling to bear with the boredom and agony of such a dull event. I see father talking to some of the other guests, Grayson and Drake having a conversation, and Mar'i uncomfterably dancing with an older man on the ballroom floor. I try not to be too jealous. Many times at these events, Mar'i is forced to reluctantly dance with older men (who only wish to get a good word with father through her) out of politeness. I know that secretly she hates dancing with these men, so my jealousy is not too great (although it is not completely diminished).

"Hey!" I hear an indignant voice say from the ballroom dance floor. I look to see Mar'i with her face flushed red, and glaring at the older man who had just danced with her. She stalks off of the dance floor to the table I am sitting at.

"What was that about?" I ask her. I am rather curious to know why she is so mad, as it is the duty of a significant other to protect and comfort their beloved.

Mar'i sighs, and continues glaring at the man.

"That sleaze, Burmont Enron, the owner of Enron Tech, has the complete nerve to grab by ass while dancing, that perv!" she says angrily. "And unfortunately, I can't even say anything to him unless the paparazzi find out, which would ruin Bruce, along with the fact that his business with Enron Tech would be ruined as well. Believe me, if I could slap him or blast him with a starbolt right now, I would."

A part of me was completely enraged that someone would disrespect my beloved in such a disgusting way. Another part of me was admiring Mar'i's spirit for her anger. One of the reasons why I love her so much, is that she could be as deadly as fire when provoked. Still, I had to do something to make Enron suffer for his perversion towards Mar'i.

"Enron will learn to show proper respect towards you," I say murderously.  I really wish I was in my Robin uniform with my katana now.

Mar'i's eyes widen, and looks at my seriously. "Dami, please don't make a scene by confronting Enron for me. Bruce could be ruined. I'll find some other way to get even with Enron."  While she was right about father getting ruined, I simply could not let this disrespectful creep get away with his injustice.

"Fine!" I snap. "I have another idea on how to teach this bastard a lesson." Before she can say anything, I stand up and walk towards Enron on the dance floor.

Mar'i was right about not confronting Enron. If I were to make Enron suffer, it would have to be discreetly.

"Mr. Enron!" I greet him warmly, despite my internal great urge to break his face. "How has business with Wayne Enterprises and Enron Tech been going lately?" I ask him.  Enron sets down his wine glass on the table by him, and launches into a talk.

"Oh well, things have been going quite well really, Enron Tech has this new machinery that could-" the creep talks on cheerily. While he is chattering away, he does not seem to notice my hand slipping a small gadget into his wine glass.

"-and that's about all with the new wiring system, which should really help mass computer production," he finishes.

"Ah, how nice. Well, if you could excuse me for a moment Mr. Enron, but I must go see my father." I walk away without even listening for a response from him. Just as I get back to my table with Mar'i still there, I hear a small explosion go off, and a loud high-pitched scream from Enron. Perfect, I think maliciously.

I turn to see Enron with most of his expensive suit covered and dripping with red wine, and him holding a now broken wine glass, with most of the glass shards on the floor.  I do not feel an ounce of pity for him at all.

"My Armani! It's ruined!" Enron wails. None of the guests go to help him. In fact, most of them back away from the glass shards with their faces turned, secretly smirking. Judging by their stifled laughter, I am rather sure that they also know what a disgusting person Enron can be.

"You must have spilt the wine on yourself Burmont," most of the guests say, but Enron's face turns even redder, which makes him look more asinine with his red wine already splashed on his face.

"I most certainly did not!" Enron sputters angrily. "Someone must have elbowed me, which caused my wine to spill! I will NOT be made a fool of!" He storms off, still dripping with his wine across the floor, which makes his juvenile tantrum and pathetic excuses look even more asinine, that fool.  He passes by father briefly.  A bemused expression covers his face as he watches Enron storming by him, but his composure recovers quickly.

At first, Mar'i looks as highly amused as the other guests were, but then frowns when she notices me trying to suppress a smirk. "You did that, didn't you?" she asks me accusingly.

"Tt, I do not have the slightest idea of what you are talking about." Mar'i looks entirely unconvinced.

"Damian, we both know that you're lying. You made Enron spill his wine."

"I may, or may have not put a micro-sized bat bomb in that bastard's wine glass when he was not looking. And then detonated it to make the imbecile's wine glass explode the contents on him," I say nonchalantly.

For a moment, Mar'i just stares at me, but then smiles while rolling her eyes slightly.

"X'hal Damian.  I mean, you didn't have to explode a wine glass with a bomb, but thanks," she says sweetly. I smile to myself.

"Of course beloved. Others should learn to treat you with more thought. You should not have to deal with such disrespect."

Under the table, I reach out for her hand, and neither of us releases for the rest of the evening.