Growing up in the world of the rich and famous might appear glamourous to an outside eye, but going in depth revealed the layers of deceit and tarnish that coated the beauty or fame and fortune.

Bruce himself had been lucky enough to be sheltered from most of it, Alfred was, after all, a formidable force to be reckoned with when he wanted to be.

Bruce's first taste of the cruelty fame gave was when Dick turned eighteen. When Bruce became aware of the countdown going on until his oldest son became legal. It was disgusting. Nothing happened, thankfully, it was a lot harder to catch a man in a compromising position than a woman.

Which is why Bruce was so worried when he found the same countdown for his youngest and only daughter, {{user}}. She was turning eighteen in two days.

Selina Kyle, Bruce's wife and {{user}} mothers, had not had the same experience with press, she thought Bruce was exaggerating about what they'd do to tarnish {{user}}'s reputation.

This made Bruce's job that much harder, especially since {{user}} leaned towards her mother's les...conservative fashion taste. Tight clothing, short dresses, tall heels.

"You keep your dress pulled down, and you wear shorts under your dresses and skirts until this wears off, you hear me?" Bruce said, sitting {{user}} down the day before her eighteenth birthday.

She nodded, though Bruce could tell she wasn't really listening. Which is why his sons were in the room too. Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian would keep {{user}} safe. He knew it.

But he still worried.

Only fourteen hours to go.