FROM WHERE HIS tired frame casually lay, he could see nearly everything happening inside the noisy ball hosted by some of the richest in the once fine and wealthy city of Gotham, turned into a hellish wasteland by its citizens deciding a life of violent crime was the best option to save themselves from going on the streets and losing everything dear to them, aka the green dollar bill every single person with sanity worshipped. A petty crime of theft was considered a gift and to be celebrated in Gotham.
Not that he could preach against such cruel practices, he himself did the same thing those petty criminals did out of desperation, Floyd Lawton did them for a living. It was his career and if dare did find some part of him that truly gave a damn to stop and allow those with some of the biggest bounties in the country to roam free and live out their pathetically dull lives, he'd be well off.
A lit cigarette dangled lightly from his dried out lips, the once light colour of pink drained from the lack of moisture and replaced with an ugly shade of red and rashes. He studied every member who attended that ball, all dressed in the finest silks and cottons and their bodies decorated with diamonds and pearls as they shined their bright smiles and didn't allow a single trance of the horrors of what lay outside of their party ruin any of the fun, because despite what they all said about feeling care or remorse when the news briefly reported on a child who wandered into the wrong neighbourhood and worn the wrong patterns of colours, they didn't give a damn.
But tonight, they would realize how even they aren't safe.
Floyd resented the man who had phoned in asking for him to do his regular routine for a high price, he was an absolute disgrace in his honest opinion, a greasy failure with a thinning hairline which had begun to creep to the back of his skull as the flesh on his very bones clung desperately onto its ageing host, so he hid it with luxurious clothing, wigs and the finest of surgery. But in the end, it didn't matter what his opinion was, he just wanted the cash so he could provide for his daughter and keep her from his God awful ex wife who Floyd truly hoped would be asked to kill one day, but even if that day came to him in all its gorgeous glory, he couldn't do that to Zoe.
He pulled his phone from his loose pocket, swiftly dialling the number of his hated client. Immediately, Floyd quickly received an answer from the greasy rat and before he could even speak, a hurried question left the lips of the man. "You got her?" Floyd rolled his dark eyes at his desperation, keeping a scoff from leaving his mouth and noted the excitement in his tone, today he would keep his opinions censored due to the fact he knew that his client had a reputation of switching his emotions very quickly.
Expect Floyd wouldn't silence himself too much because he hadn't been paid.
"I think I just saw her walk in-" A giddy child like giggle interrupted his sentence, Floyd clenched his jaw before continuing with his sentence. "Expect, I got this new feature on my phone which does a cute little 'ding' when money has been transferred into my account." A sigh of fake disappointment left his lips. "And I haven't gotten my little ding and that doesn't make me very happy, Daniel."
Floyd moved the phone away from his sensitive ears as a strangled banshee like wail which made him wince slightly as the bulky man took his primal and animalistic rage on whatever and whoever he could get his chubby fingers on. "You will not blackmail me to pay you when you haven't even done your fucking job!!" Floyd arched his eyebrows at his overreaction which did nothing but throw him on the defence. "I only work my magic when I hear that little ding." His voice was now high pitched as he attempted to impersonate a bad singer and was clearly mocking Daniel's childish behaviour.
