"To be, or not to be. That is the question..." Marie's voice carried over the small audience as she recited the famous speech of Hamlet. She'd practiced tirelessly over and over again, memorizing every syllable of the soliloquy in order to gain Hamlet's role in the spring play for Gotham Academy. "Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to take arms against a sea of troubles and by opposing, end them?" the words poured from her with every bit of feeling she could muster. She eyed the judges, whose initial expressions of skepticism were now replaced by pure interest. They were impressed. In her mind Marie smirked. This role was hers.

As she ended her audition, Marie folded her arms in self pride as they deliberated silently with each other. They finally looked back to her, polite smiles on their faces. One old woman with a particularly large mole just beneath her bottom lip adjusted her rhinestone covered glasses as she prepared to speak.

"It was very nice, dear..." she said, and Marie's chocolate brown eyes twitched ever so slightly in annoyance. She hadn't lost hours of sleep for "very nice". Her performance was perfect, she made sure of that. What was going on here? "But..." the woman went on, and Marie froze, "...we still have one more audition for the role, so you'll have to wait a few moments before you know, alright?" Marie's shoulders slumped in relief, and she nodded before making her way off the stage to join her fellow candidates in the audience. The woman adjusted her glasses again as she looked to the list of people. "Last but not least, Timothy Wayne. You're up, dear." she said.

Marie watched as a black haired boy around her age stood up from his spot two seats away and made his way up to the stage. He coughed awkwardly and flashed a shy smile to the crowd. Marie rolled her eyes as she heard girls around her swoon at their crush as he began the same soliloquy. Teenagers...

His rendition wasn't bad. He missed a line in the middle, and he lost emotion toward the end in an attempt to choke out the final verse, but it was still better than the rest of Marie's competition. In the end, she gave him a 'B' for effort. When he was done, he was red-faced from mild embarrassment as he rejoined his friends in the audience, who clapped him on the back with wide smiles and harmless jokes. His eyes met with Marie's, and she gave him her own smile and a thumbs up before she turned back to await the judges' decisions.

The old woman finally stood from the Judge's Table and turned to the auditioners with a wide smile. "You all did wonderfully today!" she said. "Gotham Academy should be proud to have so many fine, talented students walking its hallowed halls! Sadly though, we can only chose one of you talented children to play the role as Hamlet. It was a tough decision, but here it is!" Marie sat up a little straighter as she awaited her name to be called. "Timothy Wayne, congratulations dear!" Marie froze in her seat as Tim's friends hooted and tousled his hair a few seats away.

What...the fuck...

"Good job Timmy!"

"Yeah, Tim-Bo, you're a right little star now!"

"Have fun in those tights, buddy!" Wayne's friends jeered at him as he slapped them away and fixed his hair. The girls around Marie swooned again as she continued to stare ahead in shock at her rejection.

"He's perfect!"

"He'll be so handsome as a prince!"

"He already is a prince!" they giggled as everyone stood from their seats and slowly filed out of the room, leaving Marie and the old woman behind. Her eyes finally blinked from the dryness and she jumped from her seat to stand before the woman.

"Why didn't I get the part, Mrs. Wilkins?" she asked. Mrs. Wilkins blinked and pushed up her glasses.

"Oh, Miss Booker, you startled me-"

"Why didn't I get the part?" Marie pressed. "I worked hard on that-"

"And your performance showed that, my dear." Mrs. Wilkins said, cutting her off as she gathered her papers from her desk. "But, Hamlet is a male role anyway, and Mr. Wayne showed much talent. The try-outs for Ophelia is tomorrow, why not try for that and we could have two wonderfully talented actors for the show! Doesn't that sound lovely?"

"But, I-"

"I'll see you tomorrow, dear!" Mrs. Wilkins smiled as she scurried out of the auditorium, leaving Marie alone, completely dumbstruck. She finally growled and kicked one of the cushioned red seats.

"Complete bullshit." she muttered, and slung her black backpack over her shoulder before storming out of the room as the bell rang to end the school day. She checked her pockets for her MP3 player, and remembered she'd left it in her bedroom that morning as she rushed to school. It would be a long walk home.

As she stepped out of the large double-doors that lead to the outside, she inhaled deeply, the smell of winter filling her. She buttoned her jacket and walked down the steps and turned left on the sidewalk in the direction of home, hoping that her mother would be home from work by the time she arrived. As an extra precaution, she walked a little slower. As she stepped Timothy Wayne walked by her with one of his friends toward an awaiting limo.

"Can't believe you went for that part, man." the friend said. Timothy nodded.

"I needed the extracurricular credits, so I took a shot at it. I honestly didn't think I'd make it, though. Barely even practiced..."

"Just lucky, I guess." his friend said. Marie watched as they got into the limo and it drove off, her hands clenched. She gritted her teeth and walked on, the temperature suddenly seeming to drop massively around her.

Gotham City got cold in winter. It would only be a few days before November would be upon them, and that meant snow was only a little farther away. Marie forced herself to enjoy the fifty-five degree weather while it lasted as she wrapped a purple and black scarf, her school colors, around her neck. She took in the sight of the many shops and buildings as she walked eyeing the Halloween decor a bit warily. Halloween was two days away.

"Great..." she muttered, remembering a certain crazy that was especially active during the spooky holiday. The Scarecrow was known to participate in the activities on Halloween night, and Marie couldn't understand why families still allowed their children to dress up and go out by themselves and hunt for candy. In fact, she couldn't believe why people stayed out too late at all on any day, with all the insanity that lurked in the shadows. She resolved that the only people crazier than the criminals in this city were the people that put up with them on a daily basis, all just to be able to say that they lived in the richest city in the world. If she could afford it, she would have moved herself and her mother out of Gotham years ago. To hell with the glitz of the Gotham lifestyle. She just wanted to wake up one day without having to read "Inmate Escapes" as the headline in her local newspaper. She scoffed as she thought how with all this city's money, they couldn't upgrade that damned asylum well enough to keep it from being a revolving door.

"Que sera sera, I suppose..." she said to herself as she took a left onto her street. It was a shady place, away from the bustle of the city and just outside the Narrows. Weeds grew high in unkempt yards, and stray cats lurked in random trashcans that were knocked to the ground. She glanced at people as they checked out the window to see who was walking by their yards, most likely making sure she wasn't the police. The neighbors were the reason why she had bought extra locks to put on her front door a year ago. Her mother said she was too paranoid. She thought her mother was too trusting. Once she reached her house, a little thing with two stories that was sandwiched between two other dilapidated homes, she took out her small ring of keys and slowly unlocked her door before stepping in and locking it all over again.

"Mom?" she called out as she hung her backpack on the awaiting hook in the hallway. She removed her coat and scarf and hung them over her backpack. "Mom?" she called again.

"Oh! Hey! In the kitchen!" a woman's quick, high voice called from down the hallway. "Just in time! Come help me!" Marie rolled her eyes and walked down the hall into the cramped white kitchen where her mother awaited her.

"What did you break, burn, or short-circuit this time?" she asked.

"Actually," her mother answered, one hand held to her chest as another rummaged frantically through a drawer. "I cut my hand with the steak knife and I can't find the first aid kit..." she said, the yellow curls of her hair bouncing as she spun her head every wich way as she frantically searched for the kit.

"Under the sink, where it's been since we moved here." Marie said, sitting down at the kitchen table. She'd long grown used to her mother accidentally hurting herself as she battled ordinary appliances and utensils. She was the reason blondes were given a bad name. The stereotypical ditz, at it again.

"Oh, yes! Of course!" her mother said, and she ripped open the cabinet under the sink and removed the little white box that awaited her. "Can you help me?" she asked, bringing the box to Marie.

"No. Suffer." Marie muttered, and looked away from her mother, who looked heartbroken.

"Nooo, Marie! You know I can't look at blood without passing out."

"Then don't use sharp objects."

"But how will I cut the steak?"

"Use a fork."

"This isn't funny!"

"That's a matter of opinion." Marie smirked as her mother attempted to come up with a come-back. She finally sighed and took the box from her and opened it, removing the gauze. "Give me your hand." she said, and her mother nodded as she closed her eyes and held her hand out for Marie to see. It was a small cut, barely any blood. Nothing to freak out about. Marie tisked at her mother's inability to handle something as small as this and quickly wrapped her hand up and tied it tight. "There. All done." she said. Her mother smiled as she opened her eyes and viewed her daughter's handiwork.

"I don't know how I survived before I had you." she said.

"Neither do I." Marie said back, and her mother bopped her on the arm lightly.

"Is that any way to talk to the woman who is making your favorite meal tonight?" she asked. Marie's eyes lit up.

"Fajitas?" she asked, and her mom nodded, smiling.

"Hence the steak." she said.

"What's the occasion?" Marie asked.

"Well, it's a congrats for you on getting that part in the play! You worked so hard on it!" she said, going back to the raw steak she was cutting earlier. Marie swallowed, and looked down at the linoleum floor, wich was cracked in several places and yellowed from age.

"About that..." she said. "I didn't get the part. They gave the part to the Wayne kid, not me." she said. Her mother spun around then, shocked.

"But you were so perfect! Did he do well, too?"

"No...he barely even practiced for it." Marie said. Her mother frowned, and turned back to the steak.

"Well, he probably got it because of the donations Bruce Wayne makes to the school every year..."

"That's not fair." Marie mumbled, and rested her chin on the table top, depression waving over her.

"Life normally isn't..." her mother said, and Marie looked to her as she cut the steak into small strips. Of course she would know how unfair life could be, having being ditched by her highschool sweetheart once she'd become pregnant with Marie at the young age of seventeen. Marie was fourteen, and her mother was only thirty-one, soon to be thirty-two in December, and she was still working double shifts at the local grocery store to keep them both warm at night. What else could a woman who never finished highschool do? If Marie hadn't gotten a scholarship to attend Gotham Academy because she was considered "gifted", she'd still be attending the tiny run down school near the Narrows. She never would have been able to afford the academy on her mother's money. She remembered the day her mother received the letter requesting Marie's attendance to the academy, and smirked as she remembered the blonde woman bawling her eyes out and kissing her young and confused daughter all over her fac before even explaining what had happened. Considering all that, Marie had a pretty fair life, what with her loving mother and respectable education. There would always be more plays. Marie straightened herself up and forced a smile.

"It's whatever, you know?" she said, and hopped up to help her mother with the food. "At least it's not snowing yet."

"That's the spirit!" her mother said, accidentally flailing the knife in her hand around in her spurt of excitement, nearly slicing off one of Marie's long locks.

"Put the damn knife down before you kill one of us!" Marie said, stepping back before her mother could cause another 'accident'.

"Language, young lady!" her mother said, but did as she was told. Marie shook her head and changed the subject, and the night went on as normally as the two could make it, the harsh cold of the city and it's people locked outside.

Elsewhere in Gotham, at the very top of Wayne Tower, a figure lounged on an aged gargoyle. His thick black hair tousled as the cold wind swept over his face. An orange cat perched on his lap, its golden eyes staring expectantly into his black ones. He sighed, and stretched.

'"I'm bored..."