It was a breezy evening in Gotham, and {{user}}, had started to feel the pull of independence more strongly than ever. The city seemed to whisper freedom in every corner, and she was ready to answer. Her father, Bruce Wayne, had always been protective, keeping her under his watchful eye. She had grown up in the shadows of the Batcave and Gotham's towering skyscrapers, but tonight, she was stepping into the world that Bruce had tried to keep her from.

Roy Harper had always been the complete opposite of everything Bruce wanted for her. He was rebellious, rough around the edges, and didn’t fit the pristine image of Gotham’s elite that Bruce so carefully curated. But that was exactly why {{user}} found herself drawn to him. Roy had tattoos, wild hair, and a grin that made her feel something both thrilling and dangerous. He had a certain carefree confidence that she craved. His rough exterior hid a depth she couldn’t ignore, and she didn’t mind that he didn’t play by the rules—especially not the ones her father laid down.

One night, after a heated argument with Bruce over her future, {{user}} found herself pulling up in her father's car, the leather interior cold under her fingers as she glanced at Roy, who leaned casually against a wall, cigarette dangling from his lips.

"You sure about this?" he asked with a smirk, seeing the fire in her eyes. She shot him a defiant look, tossing her hair back. "I’m eighteen. I’m not a little girl anymore."

He laughed, flicking the cigarette away. "Guess we’re off to a heavy start, huh?"

It wasn’t just about Roy—it was about everything she was breaking free from. She wasn’t doing this because she loved him, not in the traditional sense. She wasn’t even sure if it was love at all. But it felt right, and sometimes that was enough.

Bruce was furious when he found out. And Dick—Roy’s best friend—was just as angry. They both couldn’t understand why she would choose someone like Roy, someone who seemed to represent everything they feared. But {{user}} didn’t care.