Okay, I was nervous about posting here after so long, but seeing some inspiring literature here convinced me. I submit this after seeing the Dark Knight. I love the new batman movies so this is just an ode to the great movies R&R please!!
CHAPTER ONE
Madam Anderson sat tall and proud amidst her kind, the rich and extravagant of Gotham. Her husband returned from the bar with two tall drinks. Lylia sat near her mother and glanced around the room nervously.
"Mother, why do we come here?" She asked squeakily, "All of these people look like snobs."
"Sit up straight, Lylia, these are your peers and you will show respect," Her mother replied sharply. She smiled back at her husband and their glasses clinked together delicately. Lylia swallowed and sat taller, allowing a lot of her chest to show through the large dipping neckline of her red dress her mother bought her, much to her dismay. Her long wavy reddish-brown hair fell across her shoulders by at least three inches, and her amber eyes were decorated with dark blue makeup, allowing them to pop nicely. She felt out of place with the proper, rich people of Gotham. She had recently turned twenty-five, and her parents expected her to have a man very soon. But Lylia was not like that, she barely ever wore makeup as heavily as she was now. She had grown up by herself for most of her life and enjoyed it that way.
She forced a glance at the long bar to the right of the table. It had only three people situated at uneven lengths drinking. One was tall, but very thin holding a dark bottle with both hands. He was definitely depressed. Lylia eased her glance to the next man. He was more fitting in the appearance department with deep brown hair and a good form, as far as Lylia could see by the shape of his suit. His face was focused on a woman in front of him, making him look away from Lylia. She sighed. He even had another woman in waiting behind him; she would have to get in line elsewhere for him. Her mom laughed loudly at something Lylia's father had said and nudged Lylia.
"So true, isn't it, darling?" She laughed. Lylia blushed heavily and glared at her, but Madam Anderson wasn't looking anymore. Lylia shook her head softly and looked at the final man. He was alone and only sipping a small margarita. Maybe that was a good sign, depending of course on the contents of that alcoholic time bomb. She had never been a fan of drinking, but it was her "civil duty" as a wealthy woman to drink. Her mother had always told her that, along with every other duty under the book. Lylia turned back to the conversation at the table when the food was delivered. She looked at the delicate, small-portion meal and frowned. How was she supposed to survive on this!?
"Well, Lylia, have you seen anyone you like yet?" Her father asked her. She shrugged.
"No, all of these men look like players or drunks," She replied, attempting to cut the small piece of meat in two. Her mother laughed. Lylia twitched her eyebrows; why was that so funny? Her mother fiddled with the gaudy pearls around her neck.
"Now, Dear, you know not all men are perfect," she said scornfully. Lylia shrugged.
"They can at least try to get close," she said, revealing a hint of expensive taste. Her mother smiled and nodded in agreement as she began to eat her meal. Her father leaned forward and began to talk to his wife about something relating to their fortune and Lylia tuned them out. Her mother noticed.
"Lylia, dear, why don't you go and get us some more drinks, and order yourself something. You're too tense." She flicked out some money. Lylia rolled her eyes, took the money, and tried to reach the bar without interruption. She touched the bar and glanced in both directions for the bartender. He was a pretty good distance down, so she waited for him to return, or at least get closer. She noticed now she was close to the second man, and allowed herself to be slightly nervous. He was laughing and turned back to his drink, allowing Lylia to see his face. It was warm, with smiling hazel eyes and a nice grin, showing some teeth. She tried not to stare as she looked for negatives in his appearance. She wanted him to stay focused on his little lady-friend and away from her.
She tapped the bar impatiently as the bartender visited with a woman down the bar past the man. She knew she had seen this man before, but her mind was not willing to remember. Suddenly, his voice rang out loud near her. He had turned around.
"Hello," he said with a smile, "Name's Bruce Wayne." He said, producing his hand. That's who he was, Bruce Wayne, the sole proprietor of the Wayne Empire. She swallowed her dread of conversation and took his hand gently. He kissed it, and she blushed.
"Lylia Anderson, very honored to meet you, Mr. Wayne," She said with surprising grace. Bruce flinched plainly and a smile.
"Please, call me Bruce," he said. Lylia, smiled. At least his smile was sweet.
"Okay, it is an honor to meet you, Bruce," she repeated. He waved his hand.
"Hey, Bartender, give this girl whatever she wants," he said. The bartender nodded and looked at Lylia.
"Um, two margaritas for table four, and I'll have…a sparkling wine." She did not like alcohol, but she did not want Bruce to think her strange for coming to a bar not to drink. Bruce was staring at her and she was getting warm.
"Thank you for buying my drink," she said finally, sitting to wait for her wine. He made another face that made Lylia let out a small grin.
"It was nothing. Lylia, is it? That is a beautiful name." he said, resting his arms on the bar. Lylia looked at him full in the face for the first time. Her amber eyes searched his. He meant it. She grinned and enjoyed the comment.
"How many times have you said that tonight?" she asked, looking away. She heard Bruce chuckle, but she focused on the bartender who was handing her drink over the bar. Lylia took it and stood.
"Wait, where are you going?" Bruce said, showing the first sign of human expression. She was thoroughly surprised.
"I…my parents…" she glanced at them. They were in a heated discussion about something, and she had really no intention of being swept into it. She took a deep breath and sat back down. "Well, I guess they are fine without me," She said as she watched the waiter bring the two adults their drinks. Bruce relaxed.
"I'm sorry, if you want to…" Lylia shook her head.
"No, no, I just came with them; I don't want to sit with them." She said. Bruce was smiling again. Lylia didn't want him to flirt with her, but he made her feel at least slightly comfortable. She adjusted her dress nervously, but then noticed Bruce was still looking at her. "Oh…I'm sorry, I just hate this dress."
"Well, it's beautiful anyway," he said. She was surprised again, but smiled fully this time.
"Okay, now you're just desperate," she said with a laugh. He laughed, too, and Lylia felt better. She was about to say something more when her mother called her.
"Lylia!" she said as she stormed over. Her face was red and contorted by anger. "We're leaving, finish your drink." She hissed, noticing for the first time the man near her daughter. "Oh! Mr. Wayne, I'm honored," she said with an obvious change of heart. Bruce took her hand and nodded a greeting.
"Mother…" Lylia said with a ragged voice. Her mother seemed to suddenly remember her anger.
"Lylia, say goodbye. We are leaving." She said harshly, "You're father and I are done here." Lylia sighed, but knew her mother was not going to let her talk back without making a scene.
"It was nice meeting you, Bruce," Lylia said as she stood. Bruce stood as well.
"The pleasure was all mine," he said taking her hand and kissing it again. Lylia felt her face become warm again, and stay that way all the way out to the car. She slid into the back seat and her parents slammed the doors behind themselves. They always fought about the money, and it always seemed to ruin the evening. As the wind whipped through the convertible, Lylia felt herself more independent than ever before. She had a decent conversation with someone other than a family member or old person. At it was Bruce Wayne, a man she thought was a snobby playboy.
"Lylia, did you have a nice time?" Her father asked her, implying that they had not enjoyed themselves.
"Eh," she replied, "It was alright." She looked out the window and smiled.