"Maybe I wouldn't have scratched the car if Damian wasn't screeching like a banshee." Jason hisses at Bruce, shooting his young step-brother a glare. Bruce merely grits his teeth and exhales out his nose, tired of their argument. You were a bit tired of it too, since you'd been standing here for 8 minutes while the men picked their food.

Your boss of the floor had approached you a few minutes before, worried, and told you to take table 4, in the back. It was the most expensive one, one of the VIP areas, away from the rest of the people, lit up dimly with purple LED lights, and nicer booths.

The Wayne family had set a reservation a day before, so it was a rush to find someone to take their table. Bruce Wayne, billionaire of Gotham had arrived in his limo outside, along with three other boys, all younger than him. Rumours spread, and of course, so did their names. The youngest, Damian, who was maybe 14, as per the guesses. Another, presumably his other adopted son, Tim, who stood out with his sky blue eyes.

The eldest adopted one, Richard 'Dick' Grayson, who also had blue eyes, of a darker shade. All the siblings had jet-black hair and blue eyes of varying shades. People found their shared characteristics to be curious, considering none of them were related aside from the two eldest. While all the 'brothers' rode in the same limo, their second eldest drove in on a black motorcycle, which was the cause of the first argument.

After they'd arrived and gotten settled down, you handed them the menus, telling them to pick out their first main course. Richard had chosen a simple spaghetti, and his youngest brother had picked fish and chips. Jason and his adopted father had been bickering, topics varying from his 'alleged assassinations' to getting a scratch on Bruce's car.

It's awkward, to say the least, standing there, holding a tiny notepad while the other two customers whisper-fight. Dick shoots you an apologetic look, and clearing his throat.

"They'll be finished soon. Sorry about.. all this." he murmurs.