The Joker Stories

Lost in Gotham

It's 10:34 at night and you're in one of the most popular clubs in the city, complete with flashing lights, loud music, alcohol, and a dance floor full of people between the ages of 18 and 30.
You're sitting at the bar, sipping from a glass and watching people dance–or try to dance, as most of them are too drunk to do more than stumble.
Clubs aren't your thing, but your friends begged you to join them tonight and you agreed, hoping it would be more fun than you thought. So far, it was anything but. You've only been here for thirty minutes and you already want to leave.
You set down your glass and hop off the bar stool, your eyes scanning the room for one of your friends; you want to convince them to take you home. You spot your friend, Kelsi, on the dance floor and walk over to her, touching her shoulder to get her attention.
She turns around and grins at you. "Hey! Enjoying the party?"
You shake your head. "No. I want to go home."
She blinks, staring at you like you grew a second head. "What? We just got here!"
Kelsi is one of your roommates–the other being her younger sister, Shelby–and is considered the "party girl" in your group of friends. She's at this club, and others like it, almost every weekend, dancing and drinking and going home with anyone that interests her. Her motto is, "Live in the moment and have fun!" and she follows it like a rule.
"Yeah, well, I'm getting a headache and–"
She makes a disgusted noise and waves her hand dismissively. "Excuses."
You glare at her. "Kelsi–"
"Come on, loosen up," She interrupts. "Have fun for once."
"I have plenty of fun, thank you."
"Not like this! Live a little!" She begins to move her body with the music, then steps forward and grabs your hips, trying to get you to dance, too. "Come on, dance with me! Please?" She gives you her best pout.
You give in, letting out a sigh. At first, your dancing is unenthusiastic and slow. You don't want to dance, you want to go home.
Kelsi rolls her eyes at you and shakes her head. "Quit acting like this is torture. Move your body like mine, let the music flow through you!" She twirls her arms in the air and does a quick little spin.
You sigh again, but decide to give it a shot; you watch Kelsi and try to match her movement and the beat of the music. Pretty soon, you've gotten lost in the rhythm and find that you're actually having fun.
Kelsi laughs as she watches you. "That's my girl; shake that ass!"
You laugh, too, and wiggle your hips for her; you soon forget that you wanted to go home in the first place. You dance for a couple of songs before Kelsi suddenly stops you. "That guy is totally checking you out."
You glance around in confusion, raising an eyebrow. "What guy?"
She glances behind you and nods in his direction. You turn your head to follow her gaze and spot a tall, pale man with bright green hair standing near a back wall, his eyes directly on you.
"Wow," You say, turning back to Kelsi. "He's... interesting."
"I think he's hot."
You give her a look. "You say that about everyone."
She winks. You take a second glance over your shoulder at him. You had to admit, she wasn't wrong.
You turn back to Kelsi with an uncertain expression. "Should I...?"
"If you don't, I will." She teases.
You nod, take a deep breath, and turn around, walking across the room towards him. You stop in front of him and smile nervously. "Hi." Now that you're seeing him up close, you can make out a few more details about him. He has a Damaged tattoo on his forehead, a J tattoo under his left eye, and you can make out small scars here and there across his face. His lips are crimson red, like he's wearing lipstick, and he's covered almost head-to-toe in gold jewelry–rings, chains, bracelets. His white shirt is half-unbuttoned to the middle of his pale chest and more ink.
He doesn't respond, so you introduce yourself, telling him your name.
At that, he grins, flashing a set of silver-capped teeth, and repeats your name in a voice that causes your heart to skip a beat and sends a light shudder down your spine. "What a lovely name."
"Thank you," You pause, waiting, but he doesn't say anything else. You prompt him, "What about you? What's your name?"
He pauses, as if he has to take a moment to think about it, then replies, "You can just call me Mr J."
"Oh?" You say, intrigued. "What does the J stand for?"
He laughs, but doesn't answer your question; instead, he asks one of his own, "Would you dance with me, doll?" He holds out his hand.
Mysterious.
"Sure." You smile, take his hand, and follow him back to the dance floor.

By-Mrjsplaything on Tumblr