Hatred Never Looked This Good (Young Justice) [1/3]

17 | Audrey

All my complaints shrink to nothing
I'm ashamed of all my somethings

Leading a double life wasn't anything new to me. As Batman's protege, Jet Starling, my secret identity easily stayed secret even to the Team. None of those outside of the Batfam knew I was Regina Hayden, an orphan who grew up in a broken system and had a history of running away. However, that was who I was before the solar tech incident at LexCorp. Now I was Pyrrha with the civilian alias: Hayden Reginault. But with four distinct aliases, four distinct faces, four distinct lives, it was getting harder to tell who I was anymore. The grey eyed runaway, the masked sidekick, the red eyed god, or bland, boring Hayden?

Hayden--with her layers of makeup to cover pale skin with glowing veins and itchy brown colored contacts to hide red eyes--may have been the actual suit and mask out of all of my versions. But I needed her until my unveiling as Pyrrha.

Luthor and I weren't speaking unless it was concerning the Light and despite my broodish orphan shell, being alone was taking its toll. Over the following weeks of learning about Luthor's test, I spent hours trying to forget about freeing Joker by researching the activities of Wayne Enterprises and people watching at the Sunspot Cafe in Metropolis slowly becoming more bitter towards this sloth-like, selfie-happy world.

Then Audrey stumbled into my life.

METROPOLIS
Oct 31, 09:00

The noise of the cafe hummed as I clicked around on my laptop on Gotham news sites.

"Crazed Joker Escapes Arkham"
"Clowns Terrorize Downtown Gotham"
"Gotham Failed By PD And Vigilante"

And then the knife to my heart.

"Anniversary Of Brutal Murder Of Beloved Hero"

Reluctantly, I clicked the link and saw the pictures of Jason's funeral attended by throngs of heroes and fans. In the back of one picture stood Jet Starling in her white and black suit glaring at the sullen Batman with the caption: 'Did the late Jet Starling blame Batman for Robin's death? Who's to blame for hers?'

"Excuse me, hon?" Startled, I looked up to see a young woman with long strawberry blonde hair holding a cup and muffin. "Can I sit here?" I looked around, confused as to why she would think it was okay to bother me but saw the cafe was full except for my extra bistro seat.

"Yeah, sure, I guess." I exited out of my browser and closed my laptop.

"Thank you!" She bounced into the spare chair, unwrapping her muffin. "You're here, like, every day, aren'tcha?" She had a slight southern twang to her speech.

"Yeah," I mumbled. "They have good coffee here."

"I'm partial to their green teas." She pushed her cup to the side of my computer to show me what she was drinking. I scowled as the drink sloshed dangerously and she pulled it back slowly. "I'm sorry, where are my manners? I'm Audrey."

"I'm Regin...ault," I stuttered. My social skills had definitely taken a hit from my seclusion. "Hayden Reginault."

"Ooh, you a spy, Reginault--Hayden Reginault?" She laughed musically making me have to take a conscious effort to control my glow. My makeup could only cover so well.

"N-no," I stuttered. Audrey was beautiful. Her eyes crinkled as she smiled and I realized I was in trouble.

"Really? Because that name sounds fake. Your folks didn't do you any favors." She took a sip of her tea.

"Yeah, they really didn't," I smiled sadly, thinking about my drugged out parents who let me be taken away and placed in the care of the state.

"So," she munched on her muffin, her cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk. "Where do you work?"