A/N: Hello, my lovelies! I know I've been away from FanFic for quite some time. I'm back, trying out a new fandom, so do wish me luck! Anyway, I'll cut right to it. PS, in regards to Demon From My Dreams, for those of you who have been following my for a while, I'm not promising anything, but I haveeee been entertaining the story for a bit.

…

Baby, be the class clown

I'll be the beauty queen in tears

It's a new art form

Showing people how little we care

-Lorde, Tennis Court

It's funny how one moment, everything in life seems so certain, and then the next the whole damn world has come crashing down, shattering into pieces. How one morning, you wake up and everything is just the way it's always been. And then suddenly, you're reaching for your alarm and you don't even know that everything has changed. You're dragging yourself from under the covers, trudging to the bathroom and wiping at those smudged makeup stains that never seem to quite fade away.

This was just another morning for Harleen Quinzel, before everything shifted and her whole damn paradigm was altered. Most certainly before him, that unwelcome presence that ruined everything, everything.

This was just another morning at Arkham Academy. Harley gathered her thick blonde hair over her shoulder and sighed. This was her final year at the pretentious school, and she couldn't have been happier. She was slipping, she knew, and she needed to get her head back in the game if she was going to pull through. And then he came, and he so easily ruined everything she had worked so hard for.

But of course, this was just another morning to Harley. She didn't even know him yet.

…

Arkham Academy may have been one of the top private schools in the nation, but in truth it was just another school. Sure, maybe the kids had a little more money, or were a little smarter, but the basis was all the same. There were the kids in power, and the kids left to surrender to their will.

Thinking on it, Bruce Wayne was probably one of the kids in power.

He tried not to let it go to his head. He tried not to act like he was better than anyone else. Buttoning up his navy oxford, he tried to remember how to breathe.

It was another sunny day in the city of Gotham. The golden rays of light caressed the streets, paving them in gold. Those same rays filtered in through the drawn curtains of his dorm room, where he was perched at his desk, scribbling out the last few lines of a paper he'd written the night before. Clenching his fist, trying not to remember all those things he tried so hard to forget.

At precisely nine, he grabbed his bag and headed out the door. He was always on time. The campus was a sprawling place, a few buildings connected by a winding sidewalk. Nearly everyone who passed waved or called out a hello, and Bruce always returned the notion. He was always polite. Except for the devilish smirk he gave to a few of the girls looking his way. Perhaps that was not so polite.

His first class of the morning was Honors American History. Most of the other students saw it as pointless, a waste of time. But Bruce found himself rather intrigued by it all. He was fascinated by the way a single event could trigger so much more to come.

After all, the past was the only thing he had.

…

At Arkham Academy, some kids had the power and some were just trying to pull through. And some kids…some kids were never supposed to walk through those door.

He was one of those kids.

And yet, there he stood, hands in his pockets as he stared up from under a shock of hair. I hate it already, he thought bitterly. The school was everything he was against, propriety and order and rules. Well, rules never did seem to apply to him. A smirk crossed over his lips then, and he let out a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding.

Might as well get the show going.

He was well aware of all the stares. When he walked into a room, people stared. It was just one of those things he'd learned to accept. Mostly, he kept his head down, kept to himself. Because those other kids, with the innocent gleams in their eyes as they smoothed out their pleated skirts and slacks, they'd never get it. They'd never understand what it was like to be the one people stopped to stare at.

Digging the papers from his pocket, he scanned the documents for the number of his dorm room. 213. Roommate had some uppity name he couldn't seem to remember. Probably they would be switching out within a week anyway. He wasn't exactly the easiest person to live with.

On the way to his new home, he passed a group of kids sitting on the greens, textbooks sprawled between them as they laughed about something that probably wasn't even funny. Nobody had a sense of humor anymore. They all looked up, naturally. Everybody stared, after all. Then, they made quick work of looking away, returning to their books and pretending they'd never seen him there at all.

Except her.

She nearly stopped him in his tracks, she was gazing so intently at him. His dark green eyes met with her bright blue ones, and for the slightest second, a smile tugged at her lips. It took everything in him to pull his stare away and keep on walking.

He would undoubtedly be thinking on that smile for some time.