Thanks HoistTheColours for the grammar advice. Here is the new and (hopefully) improved Part 1! Enjoy!
Smile for Me.
"Fuck, it's cold," I complained as bitter wind blew hair into my face. Securing it inside the hood of my sweater, I searched in my coat pocket for my lighter and half full cigarette box. Holding the box close to my mouth, I flipped the lid open with a finger and drew out a single cigarette with my lips. I sucked in breath as a strong gust suddenly blew over me. Huddled against the brick wall, I tried to ignite the lighter, which proved to be more difficult than it should have been, even with my back toward the wind. After three tries my hands were too cold to move. I plunged them into the armpits of my sweater to warm my rapidly numbing fingers, before they were bruised by the cold weather.
"Fuck," I cursed again as another harsh blast swept over me. All my exposed skin felt like it was being stabbed by a frozen knife. I shrank against the brick wall and hugged myself tighter as I waited for the wind to abate. When it finally slowed, I turned around and shivered at the silent darkness surrounding me. I had always felt uneasy being alone at night. There's something about the darkness, it was as if something sinister was waiting to grab those who left their guard down; which in Gotham was almost a guarantee.
That sense of unease had never completely left me. Always, it came back whenever I visited Gotham. With a frown I looked up into the pink and white night sky and there, hanging low on the snow clouds, was a dark silhouette. The bunched clouds distorted the image, but everyone in Gotham knew what it was; a bat.
The Bat Signal, it alters your behavior. It's similar to a police cruiser behind you; you weren't driving badly before and you should have nothing to worry about, but you do your best driving until the police cruiser turns the corner, leaving you to your vices once more. The Bat Signal works the same way. I stared at it for a moment, shivered again and turned away.
Eager to get back inside the warm bar, I yanked the door open and was immediately enveloped by loud rock music, a crack of a pool break, and drunken conversation. Next to the door there was a group of six or seven guys, a few of them grimaced at the burst of cold air that followed me inside. Ignoring any comments directed toward me, I headed for the ladies' room to warm my hands with hot water. Unfortunately, there was a waiting line, so I placed my hands in my armpits and stalked off to the bar. There were two people tending the bar tonight, a pretty little female to pander to the guys and a classically attractive male for the women. The male, who introduced himself as Tom, came over and asked me what I wanted; I told him I'd have a Bud.
There's always a guy that starts talking to me as if we were picking up from a previous conversation that had been interrupted by a brief phone call, and tonight, was no exception. He strolled up to me and slammed a tall glass beer mug on the counter as he leaned against the bar.
"I told that bitch that I wasn't going to do that no matter how good her cooking is!"
"Good for you." I replied, sliding a smile onto my lips. I smiled and nodded my head as if I were actually interested in the crap this guy has to say when really all I wanted is another drink.
"That's right, I took care of it."
"You sure did." We tapped the bottoms of our beers bottles together before he stumbled off towards the men's room.
I shook my head in amusement and turned my attention to the game on the big screen.
It's funny that once I get a break from working at a bar I go relax at one. I raised my hand to get Tom's attention and ordered another drink. It wasn't long until another guy stalked up to the bar stool next to me and tried to break the ice by asking me what the score was, politely I told it to him and turned my back on him, literally. I heard him mutter "Stuck up bitch" behind me as the bartender handed him his drink.
"You okay?" Bartender Tom asked me while clearing away empty glasses from the counter.
"Yeah," I answered lamely. Tom looked as though he was going to ask a follow-up question when he was called away by the pretty blond bartender.
I had two more beers before I called it quits. With a small wave and a generous tip for Bartender Tom, I headed for the door. The cold air couldn't reach me now; it was blocked by the artificial warmth from the alcohol. Unfortunately, so was my vision as I stumbled over the curb and landed in the arms of a stranger. "Shit! I'm sorry!" I slurred as I leaned against the door of the nearest car.
"Such ugly language from a lovely lady," he scolded me like he was my father. He even went as far as to wag a finger at me for my bad manners.
"I'd don't feel lovely at the moment." I replied roughly. Turning away from him I started down the sidewalk. I could hear him following behind me as I continued down the street. I was spending so much time paying attention to him that when I reached the end of the street I realized that I was headed in the wrong direction. Actually, I didn't know which way I was supposed to go. Though I was born here, I was a visitor to Gotham, I don't know my way around anymore. I looked left, right, and left again, just as I was taught when I was young, looking for anything familiar.
I turned around and there he was, just a few yards away from me.
The stranger seemed to study me for a moment. "I do believe you are lost." He finally said after a long pause, which I spent trying to see my rescuer, but it was too dark to see clearly.
"We're all lost." I said somberly. Even numbed by alcohol, I didn't like feeling embarrassed.
"Heh, very good, I bet you think you're pretty smart coming up with something like 'we're all lost' on the spot like that."
"Not really. It doesn't take that much to switch whatever you say in order to take the focus off of me."
"Yes," He agreed, "I can see how that would work on most people." His hand disappeared into the folds of his trench coat. "But fortunately, or rather unfortunately for you, I am not most people. So comments like that just piss me off." And suddenly I was staring into the barrel of a gun, what kind of gun it was I have no idea. But as my brain rushed to understand that I was in grave danger I looked passed the gun, to the stranger. As he approached me, he paused under a street light and I was able to see the stranger better. Now, I could see that his dark hair was dyed green and his skin was sickly white, his eyes wide and shining with the intent of murder. But the most defining feature was his lips. They were the brightest red I'd ever seen on a man; made all the more bright by the yellowing teeth as he grinned.
"I love your smile." I said suddenly, as my lips draw back, exposing my teeth in my own smile.
His smile disappeared. He cocked his head to side and peered at me, looking like a dog that didn't know how to react to a strange sound.
"Don't." I pleaded drunkenly with him. "Don't hide your smile. I want to see it. Please smile for me again."
His body shifted and the gun was slowly lowered to his side. Looking right at me, he straightened his head and smiled.
End of Part 1