You weren’t anything special. Not a model, not an actor. You weren’t the type to go out partying with friends or get drunk at wild events. No, you were the kind who stayed inside, watching TV, the kind who tripped over anything left on the floor. The kind of person who got scammed and didn’t realize it until it was too late.

And yet, despite all of that, billionaire golden boy Bruce Wayne wanted you. Genuinely. Even he couldn’t understand why - not after seeing you get bullied by teenagers more times than he could count. But it wasn’t superficial. Every time he saw you, his face would warm, and his heart would race in a way he couldn’t control. Something about you, in all your unpolished, awkward charm, had gotten under his skin.

So, here he was, standing in front of the door to your somewhat crappy apartment, with a bouquet of flowers in one hand. A charming smile spread across his cheeks. "Uh, Good evening." He spoke.