Though I've lived in Gotham City my whole life, I've never gotten used to the constant police sirens that litter the streets. It's more common for someone to be mugged than to be offered a warm smile from a stranger. The complex nature of Gotham intrigues me. With vigilantes and monsters around almost every corner, its a rough time for those who work for the GCPD. Commissioner Gordon's efforts are admirable but foolish at best. He truly thinks that his police force will clean up the streets, while Batman is responsible for almost all of the work. The Batman: Gotham's Last Hope, is the headline of every newspaper from here to Metropolis. Although I've got to hand it to him, his work ethic is my type of justice. Last week he fought off Killer Croc from attempting to strangle a wealthy business tycoon. The monstrous, scaly creature was left half dead before he managed to escape into the sewers... again. I have a feeling that we won't be seeing him for a while.
I stare at my shoes in silence as I take my typical route home from work. The walk isn't long, and I have yet to be mugged... so that's a plus. My boss was super bitchy today, but I guess that's the food business for ya. I was stuck with this group of agonizingly annoying teenagers who thought it would be funny to dine and dash. Their order was exceptionally expensive, and I was the one who was blamed for not "keeping a better eye on them." Without saying, I was pissed off. It's hard making a living waiting tables, but being an artist is hard these days. I turned the corner to my apartment and swiftly made my way inside the building. During the spring, the air is freezing and damp. I removed my heavy jacket and drudged up the stairs. Yet again, the elevator's broken. I will admit that I don't live in the best area in town, but hey, at least it was cheap. I moved in with my friend Andy last summer. We've been close since junior year of high school. I take out my keys and unlock my heavily bolted door. 34A. As I walk inside, the aroma of Chinese food and beer hits my face. Home. I notice Andy sat on the couch watching the news. "Hey, what's up," I say as I take off my layers of coats.
"Oh nothing much, just had the worst day ever at work today."
"Ugh, tell me about it," I retort, taking a box of noddles and jumping on the couch next to her.
"Well first, Vikki didn't pick up my latest story about the pollution crisis here in Gotham." See, Andy works for the Gotham Gazette. Her job includes getting coffee for the reporters and making copies for the journalists, but in reality, she wants to pursue her writing career. She was head of the newspaper at Gotham High and dreams of one day being a full-time columnist. I admire her dedication, five years with a company that does nothing but treats her like shit.
"Damn Andy I'm so sorry. I know how hard you worked on that story," I say, not wanting to bring up my day, seeing as hers was much worse.
"Ya, but you know just gotta keep trying," she says while turning her attention to the t.v. Her constant optimism always amazes me. I glance over at the window to my right. The sky tonight is especially ominous. I start to wonder what crimes are being committed this very second. "Hey y/n. Look!"
"Oh my god," I mutter. Valeri Vale reports, "Batman has just saved a woman from two corrupt local cops at a bar. The men are in custody and are awaiting their day in court. Meanwhile, Commissioner Gordon remains silent regarding the men's association with the GCPD. What will the Bat do next, I guess we'll just have to wait and see. Live from Gotham, I'm Valeri Vale, back to you Todd."
"I can't believe how corrupt the GCPD is nowadays," I say, walking towards my room.
"There used to be a time where it was an honor to work in the force," Andy remarks. My uncle used to work in the force, but was shot and killed by one of the Joker's men about five years ago. We weren't extremely close, but my dad was devastated. Later that same year my dad died. He was an ex con with multiple chargers of burglary and arson, but he was a great father. He always made time for my mom and I, regardless of the trouble he had gotten himself into.
My mom moved to Chicago after that, hoping to work with my grandpa in his architecture business. I could tell she lost a part of herself when he died. I only hope to find someone who is as in love with me, as my mom was in love with my dad. She asked me if I wanted to go with her, but for some reason, I felt obligated to stay in Gotham. My life was here, and despite all of its flaws, Gotham City is where I want to be.
I opened my closet and picked out a big t-shirt to wear as I finish up my latest art piece. "Hey Andy! Could you grab me a beer!" I yell from my desk that faces the window. Through it, I can see most of Gotham from my bedroom. The city lights are dim, and it's quiet—something very rare this time of night. I'll admit my line of work in the art community isn't appreciated as much as the others. Actually, it isn't appreciated by anyone really: artists, cops, the government, etc. Plain and simple, I'm a scam artist. I copy art from world-renowned artists and sell them. Though, I the job occasionally involves stealing some art from local museums. That being said, it still takes talent to do what I do.
"Here," Andy says, handing me my beer, "You know, one day your gonna get caught. And it'll be your ass."
"I know. But I'm here for a good time not a long time," I smirk.
"Goodnight, loser."
"Goodnight to you too."
I grab my materials, open my laptop, and start working.
