MELLIFLUOUS ➪ Bruce Wayne {Gotham}

XIV

The sound of excessive tapping echos off each wall in the elevator, somehow making the short amount of time slower and slower.

Bruce anxiously stares at the array of buttons to the left of the door, the rooftop knob gleaming. So many questions are stuck in his throat as he awaits his destination.

"All this time and she didn't even think to reach out," he mumbles angrily under his breath. The loud ding interrupts his thoughts, and the doors slide open. The light of every neon sign and skyscraper bounce off her figure. Her silhouette emits a nonchalant vibe to the boy, calming his anxiety. He almost forgets where he is until the elevator dings once more, reminding him to step out unless he plans on returning to the gala floor. His questions and anger return to him, and he makes his way over to the girl.

His footsteps surprise her at first, but she squints to make out his face.

"Who is that?" She asks, pulling a lit cigarette from her lips. "Bruce Wayne?" The boy approaches her and notices the object in her hand. "Wow! Long time, no see,"

"What the hell, Faye?" He angrily asks the girl.

"Woah, you approached me, dude," she takes a step away from him, her dress and hair blowing in the chilled wind.

"Where have you been?" He exclaims, forcing eye contact.

"I've been in Gotham...?" She responds in a confused tone. She pulls the cigarette back to her lips to take another drag. Bruce notices and slaps her wrist, causing the stick to fly out of her hand and over the edge of the building. She scoffs and watches it float twelve stories down to the street. "Okay, what the hell is wrong with you?" She cries.

"Don't change the subject," Bruce starts. "Over eighteen months ago you suddenly vanish from your room in my house. The police can't find you, the detectives can't find you, Alfred and I couldn't find you...and suddenly you show up to a random charity ball? Is it just me or does this all just sound crazy?"

"It's just you," she responds, stifling a laugh under her breath.

"I'm not joking around, Faye. I..." he chokes up a bit, taking a deep breath before continuing. "I thought you were dead!" He reaches his hand up and rubs his face, turning away from the girl. Faye reaches in her coat pocket and grabs a box of cigarettes, pulling one out. She places a hand on Bruce's shoulder.

"I think you need one of these more than I do, man," she turns him slightly toward her. Again, he bats her hand away, causing another stick to fly off the rooftop. "C'mon! Those aren't cheap!" She shoves the box back into her jacket.

"You've changed," Bruce mumbles.

"You have, too. Puberty finally caught up to you," she smiles.

"Faye," he sighs. "I'm serious. What happened?" He turns back towards her, getting lost in her eyes once again.

"I grew up, Bruce," she starts. "When you met me, I was this weak, delicate little girl. I had no sense of the world and I expected people to feel bad for me all the time." She walks over and leans against one of the air conditioning units. "Nobody wanted me, and I couldn't accept that. I was depressed and confused, but I never showed it in fear of being completely rejected." She runs her hand through her hair.

"So...you ran away? Even though we took care of you and accepted you?" Bruce asks, following her.

"Ran away? Is that what you think I did?" She asks, offended by his accusation.

"That's what everyone thinks!" He exclaims, trying to force his point across. "You had so much time to come back and tell us everything, but you chose not to!"

"Bruce, for God's sake," she rolls her eyes.

"It's the truth, Faye! Alfred was right all along,"

"No. No he wasn't," she pushes herself off the metal box. "Why should I have returned when I wasn't even wanted?" She snaps. "You know what? I don't even think explaining myself will satisfy your desire for answers," she makes her way back to the edge of the building, admiring all the lights across the land. Bruce follows once again.

"If you just come and talk to Alfred and I, we can all go down to the precinct and explain everything to Jim Gordon-,"

"I don't want to talk to anyone. What don't you get?" She sighs heavily, keeping many of her thoughts to herself. "Bruce, it was kind of you to come up here and check on me, but I'm fine," she shoots him a look, old feelings rising up to the surface, causing her to look back at the skyscrapers.

"Please, Faye," Bruce begs.

"Now if you excuse me, I have six-thousand dollars to collect from the directors of this thing," she walks towards the boy, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. "I'll see you around," she says before entering the elevator and going back down to the ballroom.

Bruce is left alone, the wind causing the tail of his jacket to whip around in the darkness, while he's frozen in the pit of his own jumbling thoughts.