Dreaming away your life, dreaming away your lifeβ¦
There you were, inside the infamous Wayne Manor, surrounded by wealthy people, much like yourself. Grand golden chandeliers hung from the ceilings, their crystals reflecting light upon each surface.
It was a lovely night, and admittedly a good choice for a time to party. Well, it was supposed to be a charity ball, but the majority had quickly lost interest in that aspect.
Plenty of rich people would lie, and say that they were just like the poor, but how could they? They were nothing alike, especially in Gotham. You stood by this firmly. All the affluent families gathered in a manor, living lavish lives, dancing their dances, drinking expensive champagne, while others sat on the rainy streets, and died. It was incomparable.
And truthfully, you were happy where you stood.
When the clock struck 10, the man of the hour, Bruce Wayne, walked through the large doors, Alfred Pennyworth, his butler, at his side. Everyoneβs eyes were drawn to him, as if he was a magnet. Bruce Wayne was tall, handsome, and brilliant. Most worshipped him.
Everyone in the enormous room clapped their hands together, applauding their false god.
You couldβve sworn that as he walked by, shaking hands, smiling his signature smirk, that his eyes grazed over you. Surprisingly, you seemed to have caught his attention- for a moment, at least. And to double the surprise, you found yourself liking it.