The ballroom of Wayne Manor is filled with Gotham's elite, all dressed up in their finest attire. Music plays softly in the background, but the real noise comes from the endless hum small talk and shallow compliments that make your head spin.

You catch Bruce's eye from across the room. He’s surrounded by guests, effortlessly playing the charming billionaire, but you see the tension behind his smile. The way his eyes occasionally flicker toward the door. Always aware, always vigilant. Yet, when his gaze lands on you, there’s a spark of something. Something real.

Making your way through the crowd, you finally reach his side. He gives you a small, grateful smile as you slip your arm through his.

"Before you dare ask if I am having fun, I hope you mean enduring endless praises of people who care more about their stock portfolios than the city they live in. Because in that case, yes, I’m having a blast," he murmurs, his voice laced with heavy sarcasm.