MELLIFLUOUS ➪ Bruce Wayne {Gotham}

XIII

Days pass.

Then weeks...

Then months-

Almost a year and a half goes by since Fayette was kidnapped from Wayne Manor.

The GCPD's search has slowed down and the journey to find Faye is basically a lost case:

Jim Gordon cannot stand to look at himself anymore. The thought of being unable to rid Gotham of its increased rate of crime, let alone just find a lost girl is what puts him of the verge of quitting. He's sick to his stomach now that the GCPD has decided to file Faye's case as Unsolved.

As for Bruce, he still has thoughts of Faye, but has matured significantly within the past year. He has new ideas of what life will be for himself and his loved one's in the future. He admits that he had feelings for Faye at a point in his life, and it's devastating to think that she might be dead. After meeting with multiple of his parents past colleagues and old friends, the life of a vigilante is what Bruce believes he was meant for. He's decided to keep the one's he has now close to and to tread lightly with new individuals.

Why not pick up at a new beginning . . .

"Master Bruce," the voice rings along with the sound of soft knocking on the wooden door. "I have your tuxedo for the event tonight. Where would you like me to put it?"

"Just lay it next to me on the bed, please," Bruce responds. The butler enters the room and gently lays the suit across the comforter, eyeing the boy. "Thank you, Alfred."

"Of course." Alfred leaves the room, triggering Bruce to put dow the book he was reading onto the bedside table. He stands up and stretches, having been laying and reading for a couple of hours now. He walks around the bed and takes a look at the outfit. He sighs, rolling his eyes at the thought of putting it on. He walks over to the door and sticks his head out.

"Alfred, when is this thing tonight again?" He shouts down the long hallway.

"Around eight o'clock, I believe." He responds. Bruce groans loudly, shutting his door. "It's for a good cause, sir!" Alfred shouts back.

"Why would a charity ball be for a good cause," Bruce sarcastically mumbles under his breath. After some time, he finally puts on the suit and admires himself in the mirror. "I would much rather be roaming Gotham's rooftops than be doing this right now," he whines to himself.

Another knock on the door signifies that it's time to leave. Bruce follows the butler outside and into the dark vehicle, buckling up and opening a new book for the drive.

"Are you excited at all for tonight?" Alfred asks, peeking into the rear-view mirror to make eye-contact with the boy.

"Why should I be? Nobody who goes to these events really cares where their money is going, as long as they get to say it went to charity."

"That is...somewhat true, but you always have to be respectful and encouraging because you know where the money's going for your charity." Alfred responds.

"Yeah, I guess so." Bruce pushes off the conversation as they pull up to the venue. Before they even fully pull up, flashes from cameras blind Bruce. He squints through the glass to see the expected red carpet and photographers. The driver parks the car and allows Alfred to get out and open the door for Bruce. The boy stands up and brushes his suit off a bit to soften wrinkles, and proceeds to smile and wave for the reporters. Before he knew it, a tape recorder is being shoved in his face, and woman in her late twenties immediately starts talking.

"Mister Wayne! Valerie Vale with the Gotham Gazette! What is your opinion on the GCPD's numerous attempts to reduce crime in the city of Gotham?"

"Uhm, well," he thinks for a few seconds, making eye contact with Alfred for a brief moment. "I think that the police department is doing it's best to keep the citizens of Gotham safe..." he pauses, expecting to hear the click of the tape recorder and for the question to be done, but the reporter looks at him, expecting much more. "But, uh... sometimes our best is not good enough. We need more force and power than just the police here in Gotham. Thank you," he turns his back and continues walking into the venue, turning down multiple other press interviews and questions.

"Now what was that about?" Alfred asks, allowing the boy to catch up with his stride.

"Something about crime and the GCPD, same old same old. They always want to hear my opinion on the most basic stuff."

"You are a Wayne, Master Bruce. Your judgement is important to the people based on the impression your family has left here in this city." Alfred responds, guiding Bruce to the elevator.

"I guess so. I'm just so hungry at this point."

Bruce, Alfred, and multiple other people spill out of the elevator onto the floor of the charity ball. They're welcomed by the sound of smooth music, dim lighting, and a buffet. Many police officers and security guards stand at every entrance and exit after the multiple incidents that have occurred in the past.

"Let's go get some food, shall we?" Alfred offers. The men smile and say hello to the familiar faces surrounding them. They each create their plates, filled with extravagant food, and find their table. Multiple friends of the Wayne's come to their table to welcome Bruce and Alfred, also mentioning money and donations, as well as a couple VIP reporters come to ask Bruce about his ideas of charity and what he plans to do in the future. About an hour goes by before the two are left alone.

"I'll go get you some more food, Bruce," Alfred says, grabbing both their plates and returning to the buffet. Bruce sits back in his chair and sighs, finally being able to relax and enjoy the slow singing and dancing occurring around him.

The gala never announced who would be playing and performing at the event tonight, so he examined the small stage for any familiar faces. All he could see was just a small body behind the grand piano, and the music was amazing. Bruce just couldn't get over how soothing and beautiful the voice of the singer was. It seemed as if he was the only one at the event as the singer blocked everyone else out of Bruce's mind. Once the song ended and Alfred returned, he began to eat and enjoy the atmosphere. The person from behind the piano stands up and grabs a microphone from one of the tech people.

"Thank you so much! Honestly, piano isn't my best suit," she says into the mic, receiving a chuckle from the audience. "Now, I will be singing an original song, significantly inspired by some nineteen-hundreds jazz pieces, while my good friend and colleague plays the piano. Everyone give him a round of applause."

The piano starts playing and the girl starts singing, and something about the notable smoothness in her voice finally causes Bruce to look up. He somehow recognizes the girl onstage, but can't remember exactly from what, along with the face that her face is washed out from the bright stage lights. He continues to eat, but is interrupted by Alfred softly whacking Bruce's arm.

"Master Bruce, isn't that Faye Addington?" He whispers. Bruce looks back up at the girl, squinting, struggling to swallow his food.

"That...that is Faye."