Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the Music Man

Chapter 1: The day of the Heist

I was at the bank that day. The day that changed my life. The day of the heist. The day a school bus crashed through a wall. The day I saw a man kill his own comrades.

The day I first saw the Joker.

I had gone there to make a deposit. The only reason I know this is because of the paper clipping I have. The story about the heist was in the Saturday paper, which means the heist was on Friday. Now Friday might not mean anything to you, but it has one huge significant detail that means the world to me. Have you guessed what it is yet? If not let me give you a little riddle to help.

It gives me hope it helps my dreams. When I need it I go to an ATM machine.

Still not getting it? Well then I guess you just don't appreciate the glories of pay day. How could you not get it anyway? I worked so hard on that little riddle. Then again if you asked my old English teacher how long that riddle took me he would tell you I had just thought it off the top of my head. Like any poetry I seem to write. Do you know the funny thing about this statement? It would be absolutely true.

Where was I before I started babbling on about riddles though… ah yes, the day of the heist.

So I had gone there to deposit the check I receive weekly from my pitiful excuse of a job. I can't really complain though. Working at a library may be extremely dull and boring but at least it isn't McDonalds. At least it pays enough to save money so that in three years it can be stolen from me by the exact bank I'm depositing it in.

Now you may ask why the bank will steal it from me in three years. All I have for you are two words that should explain it all.

Student Loans.

I was at one of the tables in the middle signing my name on the back of the check when they burst in. Guns and clown masks. I froze and couldn't think until one of them shouted to get down. I literally did not even bend down to get on the floor. I just let myself drop. Then I had three thoughts. The first was 'okay. I'll get on the floor so I don't get blown to hell.' The second, 'I think I bought one of those masks last year for Halloween.' The third, 'the hell I'm depositing my check here!'

The clowns, three to be exact, then went around and put grenades in everyone's hands. Well almost everyone's hands. I didn't get one. I didn't know why then and I don't know why now. I have three theories though. One, they ran out of grenades. Two, they thought I was scared so shitless that I wouldn't try anything. Finally, three, god decided that I wasn't done with my part in this play taking place on the stage of earth so he spared me. It might be a little of all three though, but I hate making long lists so lets just leave it at that.

I watched as all hell broke loose when a bank manger the clowns had over looked come out with a gun. I don't know how they missed a guy sitting in an office with glass walls. Nor do I know what type of gun it was and I don't care. All I know is that he is a horrible shot and revealed to me a piece of information about this bank I hadn't known about before. Well he didn't really reveal it, but he caused one of the clowns to.

Really how could I have known it was a mob bank?

Anyway I know better now and plan to change banks to one that doesn't have such a bad history. I might even skip out on paying those student loans. In fact, I plan to.

Back to the subject at hand though, I'm at a bank that's being robbed. I'm on the floor, check still in hand, watching a manager at a mobster bank shoot at a guy in a clown mask at point blank range and missing. As funny as that sounds he's the guy trying to protect us. Which makes everyone in there look doomed. But as luck would have it he gets shot and goes down, leaving me and fifty other people lying on the floor of a bank defenseless.

Yeah. Prospects looked great.

One of the clowns left to go into the back room where I think the vault is. I heard a shot which made me jump, but the same clown came out with bags of money and kept going back and bringing out more. When he finished he said something along the lines of "that's a lot of money." One of the clowns looked at him then shot him at point blank range. Unlike the bank manager, he actually hits him and the clown falls dead.

The clowns think nothing of it but I can't help but stare at the body. You can't even tell he's dead. It just looks like he fainted or decided that a bank floor looked like a very good place to nap. I couldn't think of much else because the clowns said something that got my attention.

"So are you supposed to shoot me?"

"No, I'm supposed to shoot the bus driver."

Then with no warning the clown who spoke first shot the other clown and a back of a bus slammed through the wall. Another clown jumped out and started to load the bags onto the bus. This clown also said something along the lines of "that's a lot of money" and just like that the other clown shot him leaving only himself. He finished loading the bus. He turned around and looked at us and took off his mask.

I stared at the green hair, white facial makeup, and black circles. I was fascinated with the red make up put on so large it made him look like he was always smiling. I could do nothing but watch as he walked over to the poor shot bank manager who was miraculously still alive and trying to splutter out words. I didn't hear a word he tried to say. All I could do was watch and stare with fascination.

My eyes were drawn to the hands of the green haired man when he pulled out another grenade. This one was different from the rest though. This one had a string attached to the pin. He bent down in front of the manager and he placed it in the manager's mouth. He stood up and walked over to the bus and tied the other end of the string to the bumper.

He jumped into the bus and closed the door. He drove it out of the wall and into a line of school buses just coming from picking up the kids at school, blending into the scenery. But as he drove off I could only keep my eyes on that string. A string that had just pulled the pin out of a grenade.

I knew I had mere seconds and that I could get out because I was right by the hole in the wall. So I made a decision that would change the rest of my life. I made a choice to abandon all of those people in the building and run out of the bank. I scrambled to my feet and ran out onto the street.

I got out seconds before the police arrived. Maybe two seconds before the explosion. I was blown off of my feet and into the street. I watched the building burn with the people inside it and noticed something. It wasn't about the building nor was it about the people. It was about myself.

I noticed something that fascinated and horrified me.

I noticed that I had abandoned people in order to save my own skin... and that I didn't care.

I didn't care that I had survived while they got to burn to death. The only thing I cared about was where that green haired man had gone. Why he had done what he had just done. Why I couldn't get his face out of my mind.

I went home that night without stopping at the hospital to see if I had injuries from the explosion. I didn't even change clothes as I went to lay in my bed. I didn't sleep that night. Thoughts raced through my head.

I almost died that day. Due to the hands of a man who played his own game and forced others to go along with it. I almost left the world and I haven't done anything worth mentioning. Nothing worth remembering. I'm a student up to my neck in loans. I stack books for a living. It's a boring life, a dull existence.

I wanted out.

I wanted excitement.

I wanted danger.

I wanted to be known throughout Gothem.

I wanted to be like this clown, this Joker.

I wanted to be able to do whatever I please and ignore the rules.

I wanted a life worth living and get the freedom I had always dreamed of.

I wanted to get the attention of the man with the red smile.

One way or another. No matter what.