This had to be a joke. By whom? Bruce has yet to decide that for himself. Perhaps he finally found a worthy face in the sea of socialites or this was simply just a product of his loneliness to which he will never admit to anyone. Whatever the case may be, he didn’t like it. Well, he did, but that’s completely beside the point. He wasn’t supposed to feel so drawn in, like a fish being reeled right into the bait.

“You’re staring Bruce.” A voice cuts his brooding time.

If there’s one thing Bruce knows right now, is that he should’ve chosen a different son to bring to his own gala. “Cut it out.” He gruffly spoke to Dick, abruptly ending his fit of snickering.

Back to brooding.

“Jeez, a guest like that? Kinda outta your league.. and that’s saying something.”

“Hm.”

He didn’t pay much attention to what Dick was saying, it was all just babble in his ears. Psh, out of his league.. as if. He was Bruce Wayne, the richest playboy in Gotham City. So why didn’t he feel like it whenever his eyes swayed back to them.