Chapter 14:
What's come over me? What am I thinking? Adriana thought to herself as she practically ran, but tried to make it look calm. She was glad she didn't have to see his facial expressions. She nearly tripped going down the stairwell, every now and then looking back up to the balcony, and thankful every single time that she didn't see him. She saw Ricard still enjoying himself when she reached the main floor. She bent down to quickly remove her shoes which were killing her feet. She then saw someone in her peripheral vision when she stood up again. Bruce Wayne.
Part of her wanted to run over to him to tell him the Joker was in the building, but only part. Part of her wanted to tell him that she knew who he was, but only part. All of her wanted to run away from the stifling shame out into the night streets, so she did. She ran barefoot across the street to the hotel looking back at what she was sure was the right balcony, once again glad to see no one.
The clerk at the check in desk raised his eyebrows in surprise at her costume.
"Wow, I suppose you were across the street tonight," he laughed. Adriana responded with a laugh that felt fake. She was envious of this man immediately. He had a normal job, and was carefree and could joke around with no worries. She wanted to be him.
"Yes I was," she laughed, embracing this moment of normality. She gave him her ID and credit card, feeling happy that she was wearing the hip pouch. If had a purse she probably would have run from the party without it.
"I'm uhh...", she started. Should I? This could all go away if I dont!...Well..he knows now, so maybe not. "..expecting a guest."
"Of course, what's your guests name?" the man asked nicely.
"Um..I can't remember now, I just have to give him something I asked him to meet me. He'll ask for me by name," Adriana said feeling like she was lying. She felt like she would be happy forever if the Joker forgot her name and couldn't find her, she told herself. But then again, she began to think, painfully fighting the though that wanted to push into her mind, that she actually wanted him.
She walked through the elegant hotel to the hall of elevators stepping into one that was open and empty. She pressed the third button then leaned against the wall, happy to be completely alone for a few seconds. The hotel room was beautiful and open, well worth the near four hundred bucks it costed last minute.
She turned off the lights and went into the bathroom. In the mirror, somehow her reflection reminded her of the Joker. What had happened to her? Where was her true self? Where did she go? Her makeup was still perfect but she wanted to scrub it off. She wanted to use an entire bottle of shampoo in her now gothic hair. For some reason, suicide didn't sound so bad. But she didn't feel guilt for wanting to kill, like Sidi said she would, meaning she would have to live even more time.
Adriana nearly jumped from her skin when she heard a knock on the door. She walked quickly to the door and looked through the glass hole to see who it was. She opened to the door to the Joker who was completely costumed as masked. He was accompanied by a steward, who clearly wanted a tip. Adriana pulled a $20 from her pouch and handed it to him. The walked off happily. The Joker stood outside of her door like a statue, the mask now eerie. She let him in. She closed to door, afraid to turn around. She did so as slowly as her body would allow.
They stood in silence for a moment.
"Can I see your face?" the question erupted from her. She felt like she was possessed and someone else was using her body. But she deep down didn't mind, and felt like she was in the opportunity of a lifetime.
She willed herself not to fight her way into his mind. If he was going to kill her, she wanted to be oblivious. He pulled off the mask quickly, exposing his serious and hard face. Something hit and sunk in her. There she was. That's what had happened to her. There was her true self.
He was pallid. The paleness seemed to be from poor health. His body appeared immensely strong, but it was in his sallow face that the melancholy showed. The scars dominated his visage. They jutted out harshly and had healed in such a way that there a few vertical indentations along them. If his front teeth were showing it would give the frightening appearance of the overly wide and permanent smile of a skeleton. His eyes were sunken and dark but were the least intimidating part of his face. He pressed his lips together as she stared at him, causing a muscle in his jaw to protrude. She then noticed, while observing him so closely and he stood there doing nothing, that his scars had formed thickly. This prevented him from being able to ever completely close his mouth without some force, which made him habitually lick his lips. For some reason, he was handsome to her. Unique and unlike anyone else she had ever seen.
"Are you here to kill me?" she asked, breaking the silence.
"Naturally, but what are you doing?" he responded with a question, his tone nearing fury.
"I don't know. I've gone mad. But I'm sure you of all people wouldn't mind madness...unpredictability," she replied in nearly a whisper. "But I'm also sure you might be more predictable than you think. Especially if you kill me. So I guess you could, be predictable and kill me. Be unpredictable and leave, or be even more unpredictable and..." her voice trailed off.
He watched in silence as she walked into the bathroom and shut the door. She looked at her reflection, still seeing him in it. She heard the door to her hotel room open, and then shut a few moments later. She shook her head and wanted to cry but stopped when the knob to the bathroom door began to turn slowly. He appeared with an unreadable and undecided expression, knife in his hand. She looked at him with her palms gripping the sides of the sink, her shoulders raised. He closed the door behind him and slowly walked behind her. She stopped watching him. Her gaze drifted back to her own defeated expression. She then looked down into the sink, wishing the could melt away into the drain.
She heard a sharp sound, metal on the tile floor. He had dropped the knife and wasn't bending to pick it up. She looked up again, seeing his reflection over her shoulder. He took an unsure step towards her, and even though he could easily kill her in seconds with his bare hands, he had never felt more vulnerable in his life. His hand reached slowly to her elbow where her arm barely bent as she gripped the sink. Even if he was about to kill her, his touch instantly relaxed her. Her shoulders dropped and she looked at him with pleading eyes. She wasn't pleading for her life.
She slowly turned to face him. When she was his head was down, he was looking at his feet. She placed two fingers under his chin and lifted it. Within the same instant her body seemed to move herself towards his. She kissed him softly. His lips felt idle against hers, he wasn't accustomed to this type of affection. She tried again, feeling the force in him this time. It sent what felt like a warm electric shock through her which moved from her lips, quickly through her spine, lingered in her lower back, shot up and exploded to its disintegration in her scalp.