When Daniel got upstairs to his bedroom he lay down on his bed. He had already finished his homework, and wanted to figure out what had gone wrong in his life. Why could nobody take him seriously, why was his father treating him like this? Daniel thought back to a time when things weren't so messed up with his dad.

The Caldwell's were at FAO Schwartz. It was Christopher's 7th birthday, and he was allowed to get whatever he wanted. Daniel, on the other hand, was told not to bother his mother and Christopher as they shopped for his gift. This normally wouldn't have been a problem, but FAO Schwartz was Daniel's favorite toy store. He never told anyone before, but he had always wanted something from there, but didn't want his parents to spend all that money on him.

Daniel couldn't help but feel jealous as he had to sit and watch Christopher run around the store and he was stuck with his father sitting by the giant teddy bear. Seeing the look of dejection on Daniel's face, Mr. Caldwell asked him what was wrong.

"Nothing…" Daniel said his gaze on Christopher.

"Oh…" Mr. Caldwell said, realizing that Daniel was jealous of Christopher.

"I know something that will cheer you up," Mr. Caldwell said, grabbing Daniel's hand and practically dragging him towards Mrs. Caldwell and Christopher.

"Well it looks like we're not needed right now. We'll meet you at the restaurant in one hour," Mr. Caldwell told Mrs. Caldwell.

From there, Mr. Caldwell took Daniel to the back of the store, out of Mrs. Caldwell and Christopher's sight, to the stuffed animals.

"I always loved stuffed animals growing up. I was teased about it, and I would always say 'it takes a real man to admit he loves his teddy bear' I was around your age," Mr. Caldwell said, gesturing toward the teddy bears.

"What are you saying? I can have one?" Daniel asked excitedly.

"Yes. Pick out the best one. Anything from this store. I just brought you here because I personally love the teddy bears," Mr. Caldwell admitted.

Daniel smiled and walked around the aisle. He went toward the more old-fashioned looking teddy bears, and picked one out

. It was a brown-sugar brown, and it had a bow around its neck. It wasn't too big or too small.

"That's the one," Mr. Caldwell said, taking Daniel's hand and purchasing the bear.

Daniel spent the rest of that hour with his father, walking around a nearby park, listening to stories about his father's childhood. When they got to the restaurant, Daniel wasn't even jealous of the many shopping bags Christopher had from FAO Schwartz. He was just glad he got to spend time with his dad, and get his teddy bear that he named Ben.

After a few more minutes of reflection, Daniel decided to call Veronica. She would understand he thought as he dialed her number.

"Hello?" she asked.

"Hey it's me," he started, "Daniel."

"What's up?" she asked.

"A lot, I just got into an argument with my father. He doesn't want me to become a writer,"

"Why not?"

"He doesn't think I'll make money, and apparently I can't handle not being rich. And he says Caldwells don't become writers,"

"Well…he might be right," Veronica said after taking in all Daniel said, "You wouldn't make that much money as a writer. How would you survive, I mean, if your trust fund runs out. You have everything now; you couldn't handle not having anything."

"I could handle it," Daniel said, frustration clear in his voice, "I don't care about money! I thought you of all people would believe that!"

"Oh please Daniel. And what do you mean me of all people? And you know what I think, you have everything and you need to stop pretending your life is so hard. Get yourself together," Veronica said, before promptly hanging up.

Daniel lay back down on his bed and wondered when Veronica had become like this. They had been close since fifth grade and over the past year he was sensing that she was changing. Veronica had always been the person Daniel felt he could trust the most, and she had always been understanding, even the first time they ever spoke.

It was the first day of fifth grade, and Daniel's sixth year at the Elementary School branch of the Shawn Carter School. Over the past six years he was placed in classes with the same people, but to prepare the students for middle school, the school board decided to mix them up.

Daniel looked around his new classroom, Room 312. There were tables of four and three tables of two. Daniel found his nametag at a pair of desks. The other nametag read Veronica. He wondered who Veronica was. When she finally arrived she sat down next to him and turned towards him said,

"I'm Veronica. And apparently you're Daniel. Nice to meet you," she opened her arms and gave him a hug.

"Hi. And yeah I'm Daniel. And it's a pleasure to meet you," he said with a goofy smile plastered on his face.

"You seem kind of odd," Veronica started, "I like that."

Daniel was taken aback by her bluntness. Even back then kids treated him like he was special because he was a Caldwell, so he wasn't used to people talking to him like that.

"Thanks...I guess." Daniel said.

"So what's up? I'm thinking we'll be sitting next to each other for a while, and it would be beneficial for us to become friends."

"I'm up for that. Let's be friends," Daniel said, happy with the way the conversation was going.

"So I've heard a lot of things about your brother," Veronica said.

Daniel groaned. Somehow everything in his life had to somehow be about his brother. Sometimes he felt like he had nothing to himself.

"Yeah, everyone always wants to know about him," Daniel said dryly.

"No offense, but personally I don't see why. And it's kind of bogus to be asking you about him. I'm sure you get tired of hearing about him all the time."

"It is tiring. But I'm learning to live with it…I guess."

"Well, I've talked to your brother before, and I think you're cooler." Veronica said.

"Thanks," the goofy smile reappeared on Daniel's face.

From that moment on, Daniel had always trusted Veronica with his secrets and she proved to be a trustworthy friend. Now he felt like she was changing along with everyone else in his life. Daniel felt like he was the only person who stayed the same, and that worried him. He was also stressed that nobody would listen to him, take him seriously.

Even Veronica was against him. Did he really have the perfect life? Was he so spoiled he couldn't see it? He looked around his large bedroom. He had never asked for all of these nice things. He always just got them. He always thought he could survive without them. It was always Daniel's dream to go off on his own, and try to write something that would go down in history, or would at least be recognized somehow.

Daniel knew that part of the problem was who he was. Everyone saw him as the rich, pretty boy who would follow in his father's footsteps. He wanted to shed that image. He wanted to see the real world; he wanted to have friends who liked him for who he was, not for his money or looks.

Daniel thought Veronica was that friend, the one who liked him for him, the one that would support his decisions, or at least try to understand his reasoning. Today she proved not to be that friend. He wanted to be sure. He wanted a way to tell who was real and who wasn't. And he wanted to be able to go out into the world and be sure that everyone who liked him liked him for him. This change would have to be permanent.

He got up and walked to his mirror. He looked at himself. In front of him was Daniel Theodore Caldwell, with long blond hair, big brown eyes, and a smile that didn't meet his eyes. What could he do to ruin this image?

Daniel considered some possible ways. He could break his nose, but there was a chance that he would still look good. He considered cutting his face. That seemed like a good idea, except there was a possibility of his death. He then realized that if he survived it, it would really send a message.

After an hour's deliberation, Daniel thought of the perfect way to carve his face. He was going to cut his mouth to form a permanent smile. His life was perfect, so he should always be happy, right?

He stole one of his dad's collector's knives. It was the one he used to try to take when he was little, and his father promised he could have when he grew up. He brought it to his face, preparing for the immense pain he was sure to feel momentarily. He put the knife into his mouth, carefully enough so it wasn't touching anything.

In one swift motion he sliced his left cheek. He could taste the blood in his mouth, warm and salty. Blood rushed from the cut down his face down to his chin, like soda rushes down the can if it's been shaken before opened. The pain was surprisingly bearable, but the blood was beginning to make him nauseous. The way more blood flowed freely from the cut, showing no sign of stopping, and the anticipation for pain was beginning to make his head spin. The room was becoming blurry, and he knew he would be losing consciousness soon. He quickly cut his other cheek, and before he could even watch the blood rush down his face, he was on the ground. This is all very strange, Daniel thought, as his cheek pressed against the soft carpet, staining it instantly. The last thing he heard was his door opening and his mother's scream, so loud it could probably break glass.

Why so serious?

Let's put a smile on that face.

--The Joker