Disclaimer: I do NOT own Batman or any of its characters. It is owned by DC Comics, Warner Brothers, and other stuff.
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My story is about an original character I've created- a teenage girl named Taylor Cummings who has just moved to Gotham City from Miami. The reason she and her family moved was because her father was offered a high paying job as a District Attorney in Gotham. While Taylor is in Gotham she meets other teenagers named Alexis Gordon (a punk rock chick), Devon Parker (a cool guy), Ryan Haws (a cute brainiac), and Kristen Meridian (a really shy girl). One night in Gotham she meets Batman, a superhero.
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Taylor's POV
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I rolled down my car window and took a big breath of fresh air when we drove past the Welcome to Gotham City sign. We had been driving for days and days and staying at motels night after night. This had been the longest car ride ever (from Miami, Florida to Gotham City, which is up in the New York area). I asked Mom why we couldn't just take a plane. She said that she and Dad shared superstitions about airplanes.
"We're finally here in our new city," Mom said in a sing song voice. My mother's name was Lynn Cummings. She seemed more excited about living in a new city than I was. "Oh, come on, Taylor," she said, after seeing the look on my face from her mirror. "Can't you be a little excited?"
"Excited?" I repeated.
"Yes," she said. "You're in a new place. You'll make new friends. You'll have new adventures. And we'll make more money."
I sighed. We really needed that money.
"I know," I said, tucking a lock of blond hair behind my ear. "I guess I'm just not ready for change yet."
"Who knows?" she said with a smile. "Maybe you might like it."
I thought, oh, since we're in Gotham already we're almost to our new condo. But no. Gotham was apparently one of the biggest cities in America so there was still ways to go. Dad was in the driver's seat, focused on nothing but the road ahead of him. His name was Bill, Bill Cummings.
I grabbed a Gotham magazine. I thought that I would maybe be able to pass the time if I read it. I opened it, read over some of the articles, and noticed that most of them had been written by a reporter named Gossip Gerty. And most of the articles were about a man named Bruce Wayne.
Bruce Wayne was a millionaire. He owned a business called Wayne Enterprises. And all his articles were about his love interests. He was a bachelor, and had so many girlfriends. As fascinating as he was I was going to look for a more interesting topic.
I found one that was about the safety system in Gotham City. Apparently there were more hired police men, fire men, etc in Gotham than in any city in the world. It said that Gotham had the fifth highest crime rate of any city anywhere.
"Mom," I said.
"Yes."
"It says here Gotham's got a high crime rate."
Mom's everlasting smile changed into a frown quickly. She snatched the magazine from me and began reading it to herself. Then she turned to Dad and whispered stuff to him. I knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, but it was a habit of mine. I didn't catch much but I heard her mention something about a past villain attacking a former District Attorney. Then I heard Dad say he wouldn't worry about it.
"So, apparently villains are bad in Gotham," Mom said, uncomfortably, handing the magazine back to me.
I was used to it. We left Miami because of the high crime rate. And now we were going somewhere with an even bigger one.
We arrived at our new condo. It was called, Wayne Terraces. That meant it was obviously owned by Bruce Wayne.
We stepped inside and hopped on an elevator to the tower of the condo. That was where we were going to be living. Dad looked at a map of the condo.
"Well," he said. "There's a lounge on the fourteenth floor. You can eat food there. You can listen to someone play music. I heard it's very nice."
"Okay, then let's go there later tonight after some unpacking," Mom said, lightheartedly.
We got to the towers of the condo and entered our new home. It was pretty cool. It was big. There was a large balcony, overlooking the city. There was a nice kitchen, a few rooms… yea. It was okay.
"I'm gonna claim a room," I said, swinging my duffel bag over my shoulder as I trudged into the hallway. And I found one. It was perfect. The window was large, and the view was of the Gotham Bank. The bank was a perfect place for a crime scene. And if I were to watch a crime scene I could be the first person to call the police.
I unfolded some of my old posters and hung them up on the wall. They were of people like Chris Brown, Taylor Lautner (who was a male actor who shared my first name), Robert Pattinson, and David Cook. I laid my sleeping bag on the floor since there was no possible way we'd be able to set up the beds yet. I lay my family pictures on the floor nearby. Mom had said we wouldn't begin setting up any furniture on our first day here.
A few hours later my dad was in the living room wearing a new suit.
"What's the big idea?" I asked.
"We're gonna go down to the lounge," he replied. "Remember?"
"Right, right," I chuckled, feeling foolish. Then Mom entered the room, wearing a slinky red dress. She grinned, walked over to Dad, and he kissed her hand.
I groaned. "Am I supposed to dress up?" I asked.
"No, you don't have to dress up," Mom sighed, rolling her eyes. She and Dad both knew very well that I was a tomboy.
"Okay, good," I said, with relief. I would just stay dressed up in whatever I was already wearing. I was wearing a denim jacket and blue jeans. My blond hair was tied up in a ponytail, and I was wearing little earrings that were shaped like guitars.
We hopped onto the elevator and headed down to the fourteenth floor. When we got off the elevator I could hear the sounds of people chatting, eating, drinking, and of a singer singing and playing music with a band.
The lounge looked nice and cozy. It was lit by candle light, which was nice. The singer was singing "Fly me to the Moon" by Frank Sinatra. The jazz band behind him was playing well. There was a saxophone and everything. There was a nice atmosphere.
We sat down at a table. I had brought the Gotham magazine with me so I could read it. A waitress walked up to our table. "Hello," she said, putting on a polite smile. "My name is Selina. I will be taking care of you guys tonight."
"Hello, Selina," Dad said, looking kinda like he was in a trance.
Mom slapped him on the arm.
"Ow!" he gasped.
Selina was middle aged, like Dad was. She was very pretty and she had frizzy blond hair. "What would you folks like to drink?"
"Champagne," Dad replied.
"I'll take a Champagne too," Mom agreed.
"Me three," I said.
"Absolutely not," Mom said, shaking her head with disapproval.
"Fine, then I'll have chocolate milk," I decided.
"Good," Selina said, winking at me. "When I was your age I wanted to try my first champagne too."
I smiled politely. She walked away.
I opened up the magazine and continued reading. "Wow, Mom, Dad, this Bruce Wayne guy is kinda famous around Gotham."
"That's interesting," Mom said.
"Yea, I heard he owns this condo," Dad added.
Selina returned with the drinks. She looked at us wide eyed. "Were you just talking about Bruce Wayne?" she asked, curiously.
"Yes," I said, showing her the picture of him in the magazine. It was the page with the pictures of him and all his new girlfriends. "He's in a lot of this magazine."
Selina observed his girlfriends and scoffed. "Wow, they're nothing special."
I gave her a confused glance. She chuckled, embarrassedly.
"Well, I used to go out with Bruce," she explained. "It was about sixteen years ago, I think. It's so strange. He really is getting older. I don't understand why he just doesn't quit his bachelor days, settle down, and get married already."
"You dated Bruce Wayne?" Mom asked, looking impressed.
"But wouldn't he only date rich women?" Dad asked. Selina looked very insulted. Dad noticed. "No, no, I don't mean any offense. But I just mean, wow, Bruce would go out with a waitress?"
"I had something no other woman had that he was with," Selina said. "I had his heart. Bruce cared about me. I've always been poor, but I haven't always been a waitress. I used to be a secretary."
"Where did you work?" I asked, curiously.
"I worked at Schreck's for a while, the place down the street owned by Chip Schreck," she replied. "But his father used to own the place. His name was Max Schreck. He never retired (though he'd be the right age now). He died… in a fire."
She looked slightly amused from her last sentence. She noticed we looked shocked. Then she said, "Well, have a good night."
In the next chapter u will meet Taylor's new friends.