A brief summary

First, thanks for the click. Hopefully you'll enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed making this. Second, this is supposed to be the first part in a three-part series. Hopefully they won't go on forever and I'll get to finish it. Third, this is a behind the scenes story – an explanation as to how the Joker became the Joker. Where did it start? Why does he have those scars? What drove him to that insanity? So, as a pre-story, a few basic things. This is set in the late nineties/early millenia, as I assume The Dark Knight is in the future. Ergo, cell phones are common and computer hacking is just reaching its peak. The story follows a few main characters, and p.o.v. switches around, a tad. As for the rest, dear reader, you will have to see.

Beauty (The Beginning)

The only reason Corinne was even in this class was because she had already taken all the others. As the only underclassman in the combined English 12/ Creative Writing class, she wasn't exactly comfortable sitting around with all the disgruntled seniors. She sighed, her day swiftly spiraling down. First bell and she was already rather annoyed with school in her middle-class suburbia hometown.

It wasn't a bad school, she thought as the teacher began a lecture on Emily Dickinson, but it was. . . . normal. There were a few kids living on food stamps, a few more who drove a Benz to school, but most were middle-class, blue collar kids. Many wouldn't go to college, Corinne realized, glancing around her cramped classroom. Her eyes rested on one outcast ( a bit like her) sitting even further back than she was.

David. Tall, lean with slightly greasy hair and a rather dark demeanor. He seemed to always wear dull colors and Corinne couldn't remember the last time he had spoken in class. Definitely not going to college Corinne decided as she continued to look over him. Lean might not be a good word for him, she thought. He had definite arm and back muscles, lazy posture and dark brown eyes that flickered from the teacher to the pencil in his hand. His clothes weren't dirty, but they were definitely . . . . .old.

Corinne shifted slightly in her seat and suddenly found herself eye-to-eye with David. Her eyes widened slightly, in surprise and she let her gaze continue around the classroom, as if the small gesture had been in total coincidence. David shook his head, barely, and continued writing, if only half of what the teacher actually said made it onto his paper.

The younger girl bit her lip and opened her binder, beginning to jot down notes furiously, trying not to think of how embarrassed she must look to these older, more mature, cooler seniors. Around kids her own age she was much more comfortable. She didn't know how to act in the room of disgruntled, on edge kids who were dying to leave this town.

Her eyes narrowed.

She would make it. No way would she be stuck here forever. Or for even a day more than absolutely necessary.

Towards the end of the class, just when everyone was starting to pack up, the teacher stood up. Corinne sighed. Crap. So she had remembered that project. Corinne pushed a few stray summer-blonde bangs out of her eyes and smoothed down her jean skirt, a few centimeters longer than dress code, and eyed the teacher.

"You will work in pairs-"

That sucks, Corinne thought, glaring at the elderly professor.

"Two weeks, in that time you will do-"

Getting out a piece of scrap paper the girl jotted down the assignment. A poster, a paper and a power point. What did this woman want, a thesis on Dickinson? Analyze one poem. Corinne rolled her eyes. Writing was so useless. She couldn't wait until Anatomy and Physiology. Now there was a worthwhile class.

"You may choose your partners now. The bell rings in five minutes."

Corinne looked up, startled. Oh god. She knew maybe five people in the class of nearly thirty. No one would want to pair with her – they all had their own friends. She looked around and again her eyes found David. She ducked her head, acting like she was putting away her things.

Even David would be better than letting the teacher call her out in front of everyone. Taking a deep breath, Corinne stood and turned around, about to make her way over to the back of the room, a small inhale of breath came as she saw David standing a few desks behind hers.

"Need a partner?" David asked. One hand in his pocket, the other resting on a messenger back slung across his shoulder

What a voice. . .

"Yeah, sure." Corinne nodded, thankful just to have anybody rather than to be publicly assigned someone by the teacher. She dug out the scrap piece of paper. "Do you have a phone?"

In the pause that followed Corinne looked up. David was frowning.

"I'll just give you my home number." He muttered, taking the pen neatly out of her hand and scribbling down the seven digits. "Call really late or right after school." He added. "Do you have a cell?" He asked her.

Corinne shook her head.

"My mom won't let me get one." She said, narrowing her eyes. "I'll just trade home numbers." Tearing off a strip of paper, Corinne wrote down her own number and handed it to him. "Anytime."

David took the paper and nodded.

"Alright."

The bell rang and there was a mad rush for the door. Corinne shrugged her over-large purse higher onto her shoulder and did a swift-about face after the herd had left. David too, exited swiftly, and they nodded to each other as they went down to different hallways.

'Need a partner?'

That one, simple, single question would change both their lives. Forever.

Updates will be fast, and usually short and sweet. What do you kids think?