Smile - Joker Leto Fanfiction - {BWWM} - {COMPLETE}

T W E N T Y T W O

~ Just Like Me ~
~ day 42 ~
• C H E Y E N N E •

I toss my bag on the floor, stumbling in my heels to heat up a couple hot pockets and grab a couple beers to get up the stairs to check on Joker. I found myself constantly worrying about him, wondering if he was hungry or thirsty, bored even. After he woke up, he sobered up quite quickly and we began talking more and more. He hadn't hated me apparently, he actually found the fact that I was Bruce's daughter quite amusing, especially since we kissed and came so close to being intimate so many times. But, it could all be an act. That's why I keep him cuffed.

Being at the club without him was slightly unsettling. All the guards were on high alert, questioning and suspecting every single dancer in the club especially me. I was the last person that they'd seen him with, but they also saw me come out of the lounge. I was lucky enough to make it back to the club after the girls and I kidnapped him. It would be all too suspicious if all 4 of us just disappeared into thin air with no explanation.

So far, my alibi was that Joker had suddenly left, muttering something about Chanel. As of now, she was nowhere to be found, but the henchmen were no doubt searching for her high and low.

On the other hand, Angel had come into some high power. With Joker's disappearance, most of his clients took no time to convert to her business, making deal after deal with her. She was getting everything she wanted before I could even guarantee my freedom. Speaking of which, no matter how much I called Bruce, he would not answer his phone. If it weren't for having to keep an eye on a certain mischievous clown, I'd go over to Wayne Manor and drag him down here myself.

Moving my hair out of my face and unsticking it from my lipgloss, I push open the padlocked door, finding Joker laying on the bed, tracing patterns in the wall next to the handcuff links. I sigh, once he looks over at me in the dark, his eyes lighting up at the sight of the alcohol in my hands.

"Where are you coming from, Princess?" He asks, sitting up as he watches me move around the room. It wasn't until just now that I realize that in the process of me rushing around, my robe fell wide open. With Joker not being there, I tried not to dress too sexy, but I was still a dancer. I couldn't exactly dress conservatively. "I hope it wasn't the club. You look way too good for me not to have been there."

I chuckle, moving my metal chair in front of his bed and setting our hot pockets in front of him. I open his beer and hand it to him before we both begin eating. He quickly became accustomed to eating the same food I did instead of eating expensive dinners every single night.

"I have to go to the club," I explain, my mouth full of food. "Otherwise, I'd be in big trouble with Frosty."

He shrugs, agreeing with me as he takes a huge bite from his hot pocket. I look up at him, watching as he sets his hot pocket down and chugs most of his beer. I went out and bought the most expensive stuff I could find so that he wouldn't complain. It's dead silent in the room beside us eating until he speaks again, asking the same questions he's been asking for the past couple of days.

"Can I tell you a story?" He asks, watching me as I eat. I roll my eyes, swallowing my food before I speak for once.

"No, Joker," I state, watching as he gives me a playful pout. "You're only trying to get me to tell you why I got adopted."

"There's no point in hiding it from me," he explains, leaning forward. "When I escape Arkham, like I do every single time, I'm gonna do some digging. I'm gonna find out."

I shake my head, chuckling at his persistence. "Well, there's only two people that know and you're funny if you think Bruce is telling you and I'm taking it my grave."

"What do you think you get out of that, Cheyenne?" He asks, furrowing his brow line. "Peace? Happiness? Tranquility? You will never get those things. I bet you have PTSD from whatever it is that happened. You know how I know that? I don't even have to explain. All you have to do is look at me. There is no such thing as freedom when you're like me. And you are just. Like. Me."

I clench my jaw, maintaining eye contact with him. He knew he was right. I knew he was right. I didn't want him to be, but he was. There wasn't much of a difference between the two of us. Over the past few days, I'd been struggling with that fact, but to hear someone else say it made it real. And for some reason, I hated it. I hated that he was right. I was no better than him and look what I was doing to him.

I stand abruptly, letting the metal chair fall behind me with a loud clank. I snatch the almost empty beer bottle out of his hand and collect our plates, before leaving him alone in his room. I make my way back to the kitchen, making sure to throw both beer bottles away, making sure there was no evidence that I wasn't treating him like a prisoner.

As I wash the dishes, I can't help but stare blankly at the backsplash thinking about what he had said upstairs.

You are just. Like. Me.

I was. There was no denying it. The only difference is that I killed people in secret. I'm also sure our origin stories were quite different, but it didn't matter. Either way, someone died in the end.

deciding to double update last minute
cuz y not 💖
(mostly cuz this a real short chapter -
almost less than 1000 words)
this is just a filler
i will still double update the next chapters
some foreshadowing before we start learning
origin stories 😈