The fake of windows.

Windows are more alike us than you think. 

You may not know it, but glass slowly melts over time. Add heat or preassure, and it'll break in a matter seconds. 

We all break.

Some just take longer than others. Some can take so much, it's almost unbelieveable. They lose so much, yet they pull through, with a happy face, laugh and smiles.

Fake.

Tim Drake smiles. He laughs. He's happy. But it's not real. He's not happy. He doesn't feel like smiling or laughing. It's not real.

Fake.

Most people believe his facade. They believe that he's okay. After all, he's Tim Drake. The boy who cares, the boy will always be there, the boy you can rely on, the boy who doesn't break.

The boy who lost everything.

Fake.

Others, however, do notice Tim. They do notice that behind his laugh, behind his happy face,

behind his smile,

He's not okay. And they're concerned. And so they talk to him. 

And he's perfectly okay.

Fake.

He smiles at them, thanks them for caring.

Fake.

He answers them honestly.

Fake.

He knows that they love him.

Fake.

After all, he's Tim Drake. He's fine. He always will be. Always was. 

He's fine.

He's fine.

He's fine.

He's...

He's not fine.

But only he knows that. He puts up a face, dons the mask, and does his job. 

Tough it out.

To everyone he's fine. He told them so himself. He's happy, he's laughing.

He's smiling.

Fake fake fake fake fake fake FAKE FAKE FAKE FAKE FAKE FAKE FAKE!!

Fake.

"Tim?"

"Timmy are you alright?"

To which the raven hared boy, with his knees to his chest, replyed not with a smile, not with laughter, not with a happy face. He did none of these things. 

"Tim?"

To which he replied with two words.

"I'm fine"

Fake.

Then he went back to looking out the window.

Fake.