Chapter One: The Hypnotist


"Oh, c'mon, you said we could do anything for my birthday!"

"I said I'll go, I just figured you'd pick something like going to a buffet or a coffee shop."

"Okay, but you keep complaining."

Charlotte groaned. She never liked going out and Roxanne knew it. Unfortunately, when you promise to go anywhere with someone, you should probably be prepared to really go anywhere, be it a thrift shop or a live-action Magic Mike show. She finished up her eye makeup and walked over to her closet. "I know, I know, I just don't like going to clubs," she said, rummaging for something to wear, "…and you know I'm not into magicians."

"First of all, it's not just any club, it's the club everyone who's anyone goes to. Secondly, he's a hypnotist, not a magician," Roxanne insisted, pinning her perfect red curls into a cute up-do.

Charlotte rolled her eyes. "It's the same thing…magician with helpers, whatever."

Roxanne stopped fixing her hair and turned, pouting. "Could you, like, not be a downer for two seconds? Maybe you'll have fun." She was visibly getting fed up.

Charlotte turned around, holding two dresses. "Look, I'm sorry. You know I'm just anti-social and am being a whiny bitch. I've always been nervous at clubs."

"Yeah, but you're my whiny bitch, and I wouldn't want to go with anyone else!" Roxanne laughed. "You're my best friend, you have to go do things with me like dance like an idiot at a club on my birthday."

"Kill me now," Charlotte joked, "Now which one?" she asked, holding up a black sparkly gown with a silver shawl and a white blouse with a black pencil skirt.

Roxanne looked back and forth between the two, "The dress, the other outfit looks like you're trying to be a sexy librarian or substitute teacher…unless that's the look you want."

Charlotte laughed and threw a pillow at her, "Yeah, because I totally want to pick up some college boys tonight!" She walked into her bathroom, took off her robe, and slipped into the dress. She stepped back and looked into the full-length mirror hanging on the door. The dress was down to her ankles and had a slit up both sides all the way up the thighs. The sleeves were three-quarter length and fell off of her shoulders. She couldn't help but smile. She never thought of herself as pretty, but she knew she wasn't plain and average, either. Tonight, she felt pretty. Walking out of the bathroom, she said, "Okay, I hate to admit it, but I actually like dressing up."

Roxanne turned around and squealed, "You look so amazing! All the guys will be trying to talk to you!"

Charlotte smiled at her feet and muttered, "Oh god, I hope not…but thanks, Roxie." She always knew that Roxanne was the pretty one. She was in middle school, high school, college, and still continued to be. Normally, she would envy girls for being prettier than herself, but Roxanne was always so nice and didn't make her feel less pretty.

"I'm ready if you are," Roxanne said, "I just need to grab my purse and we're good to go!"

Charlotte nodded, slipping into a pair of silver heels, "Yeah, I think I'm good. Let's head out." She grabbed her small crossbody bag, threw her overdramatic shawl around her shoulders, and walked to the door.


Their cab driver gushed over them, pouring on the compliments. As per usual, Roxanne ate up the attention and Charlotte just scoffed at every lame attempt from the cab driver to get laid. She had dated a few guys in college, but never understood the joys of dating and hookups like Roxanne did. She never minded Roxanne's lifestyle until she came home late from work to Roxanne and some guy trying to get frisky in the living room. They'd since made a rule that all hookups had to be at the guy's house or when Charlotte went out of town for work.

Roxanne's killer smile and excessive push-ups bras definitely came in handy when it came to free drinks and cab rides. After pouting her bright red lips and saying, "C'mooonnnn, it's my birthday," the cab driver quickly agreed to waiving the fee for the ride. Roxanne leaned into the front seat, kissed him on the cheek, and got out.

Charlotte followed, in awe. "Your high-pitched voice, that adorably forced Queens accent, and your insane confidence have probably saved me hundreds by now," she laughed.

Roxanne winked and the two headed inside. They packed into an elevator with a few other upper-class people. Charlotte was already feeling out of place and cramped. When they got to the top, she felt relief wash over her. They all got out and headed towards the door of the club. A neon-lit "Sirens" sign was mounted above the doors. The music was blaring, and it was almost too loud to hear specific surrounding conversations.

When they finally got up to the door, Roxanne, of course, went on about how it was her birthday and asked if there was any way she could get in free. The doorman called over a beautiful blonde woman who praised Roxanne's look and waived her fee.

"What about my friend?" Roxanne asked, motioning to Charlotte.

The blonde looked Charlotte up and down, "Sorry. Only have enough leeway for one."

"Bitch," Charlotte whispered to herself, and handed a $10 bill to the doorman. She shoved past both Roxanne and the blonde woman, making a direct line for an open spot at the bar. Roxanne quickly rushed after her.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

Charlotte was already ordering a drink, "Nothing, just that I got blown off by the manager. I mean, seriously? Did you see the way she looked at me? Sorry I can't afford Prada, damn."

"She's the owner," Roxanne replied, "Don't take it personally, she just—"

"Forget it, Rox, just go dance," Charlotte said.

Roxanne stormed off, but quickly found a couple of guys who fawned over her. She never did understand what it felt like to be the odd one out. Charlotte got her drink and downed it quickly. She wasn't a drinker, but definitely needed some liquid courage to make it through the night. She looked around and immediately started to feel self-conscious. In a room full of people who look like models, even a natural beauty could feel like trash. She pulled her shawl further up on her shoulders and immediately regretted something that showed off her legs so much. "I'll take another one," she said to the bartender.

The champagne didn't feel like it was doing much. A man tried to buy her another drink, but she blew him off. She just wanted to go home or be left alone. A numb feeling came over her, and the music turned more into a loud ringing in her ear as she began to think about her job and more practical things rather than enjoying the scene like everyone around her.

Her thoughts got cut short when the music suddenly faded to a stop. A spotlight dropped onto the stage, and the blonde from before stepped up to the microphone, "Thank you all so much for coming out tonight. We love each and every one of you. When I started…"

Charlotte groaned, looking away and whispering to herself, "Oh, please, you love whoever seems to draw the most attention."

"…and back by popular request, Jervis Tetch!"

The crowd clapped and Charlotte downed the last of her drink. "Can you save my spot?" she asked the bartender, sliding him some cash. He nodded and smiled, so she got up and walked to the restroom.


She looked into the mirror and wiped her lipstick off. In a room full of fakes, I'd rather not blend in as one. She pulled her hair down and let the waves fall past her shoulders. After sitting on the counter for a good 15 minutes, contemplating leaving, curiosity got the best of her. While you're here, you might as well at least try to enjoy the show. It could be a good distraction.

She returned to her seat, setting her elbow on the bar, and rested her head on her hand.

"Have you seen him before?" the bartender asked.

"Me? No," Charlotte said, swiveling in her seat to face the bartender, "I'm not into this sort of stuff…"

The bartender shrugged, "I wasn't either until I saw him. He might surprise you."

Charlotte leaned across the bar to try to get a better view of him. He had the blonde woman up on stage.

"Look into my eyes. Not around them…not above them…but into their center. Now sleep." He turned to the crowd, "Now. What would we like to see the lovely Miss Kean do? Physical feats? A trip into her psyche?"

"She said we needed more whimsy," a woman at the front of the bar shouted out.

The hypnotist smirked, "Barbara…when I count down from three, you will find me irresistible. You will be madly in love with me." He turned to see the crowd's reaction, smiling, then turned back to Barbara, "Three…two…one."

Barbara opened her eyes suddenly.

"Barbara…do you care for me?" the hypnotist asked.

Barbara turned towards him and replied, "Oh yes," before walking towards him.

He followed up with, "Do you love me?"

"Very much," Barbara said, trying to kiss him.

Great, he makes women fall for him.

"But…what if I can't feel the same?" he asked, "What if I love another? I'm sorry, Barbara, my dear, but—"

She cut him off by breaking a guest's glass and quickly holding it up to his throat.

Charlotte gasped, along with most of the crowd.

The hypnotist quickly said, "Three, two, one, awake."

The woman at the front of the bar rushed up to Barbara, said something quietly, then turned to the crowd, "Ladies and gentlemen, the great Jervis Tetch!"

As the crowd applauded, Charlotte nodded. "Not bad," she said to the bartender, "Barbara must be a pretty good actress."

"While that may be true, you should've seen what he did the other night. A man stood up on the top of a chair…and I mean the top as in the back of a chair…" the bartender insisted, "…it was like the guy was floating. He must be the real deal."

Charlotte looked over as Jervis walked over to a man then left. Interesting.


Roxanne walked up and put a hand on Charlotte's arm, making her jump. "Where were you? I got to go up on stage, but I didn't see you at the bar."

"Oh, I just felt sick for a sec and decided to step out," Charlotte lied, "So what did he make you do? Fall in love?"

Roxanne laughed, "No, I actually don't even remember! According to that hottie in the corner I've been talking to, he made me divulge some college secrets and everyone thought it was hilarious."

Charlotte looked over at the man she was talking about, "You can go back to talking to him if you want."

"I will here in a minute, I just wanted to make sure we're okay," Roxanne said sincerely, "I hate it when we fight."

Charlotte smiled, "Yeah, we're good. It hasn't been as dreadful as I expected, but I still hate that Barbara chick."

Roxanne shook her head smiling, "Of course you do. Hey, is it cool if I go to Mr. McHottie's house for, um, drinks later?"

"Well, I won't get a free ride home if you leave me, but fine," Charlotte said, winking, "I hope you enjoy your…drinks. You deserve whatever you want on your birthday."

Roxanne thanked her, said a quick goodbye, and went back to the man in the corner. While Charlotte was going to let it slide since it was Roxanne's birthday, she wasn't thrilled that she was always getting ditched for some guy. It'd always be a guy she'd see Roxanne fawn over for a couple of weeks before moving on to the next one.

I guess I can leave now. Charlotte tipped the bartender, thanking him again for saving her spot earlier, and headed towards the door, ducking her head to avoid having to talk to anyone on the way out. Right when she rounded the corner to get to the elevators she ran into someone and got knocked back. A man caught her hands and let out a light laugh, "In a hurry, are we?"

"Sorry, I just—" she looked up and froze, speechless. It was the hypnotist.


Author's Note / Introduction: This is a story I posted last year and deleted. I wanted to re-write it to make it more accurate and overall better-written. I didn't like a few of the chapters I had written before, so I'm changing some things. Just a few things to help make reading my story a little easier: When I put in a line-break, that's meant to be where a "commercial break" sort of moment would be for the show. It's either to pass time or be seen almost like a dramatic moment. When something is italicized but not in quotations, it's a thought that Charlotte is having. When something is italicized but is in quotations, the word is meant to be read as drawn out and/or sarcastic. If a word is bold, it's meant to be emphasized when read. I try to write in a way where you can really visualize and hear these characters saying and doing these things. I try to keep everyone as in-character as possible. I'd prefer the comments to stay vague, spoiler-free, and positive...so please send criticism, questions, or suggestions to me in a private message. I hope you all enjoy my story! Make sure to check out another Gotham story of mine, Different Demeanor, Same Heartbeat. It's another one I wrote, deleted, and am now reworking, but it's about Victor Zsasz. Much love to you all!