The first glimpses of dawn were upon us soon enough and despite my own status of sleepwalking through the last day of my life, and more importantly the last year of it to some extent, I felt like the lump some of my choices had been of some value. There was this feeling of release in the wake of my rendezvous with this vixen of the night that had made me feel alive again, and in so many ways just the sensation of changing my voice to suit the persona that had accompanied that cloak and mask proved empowering to me beyond the scope of written words. My meaning behind leaving Gotham had been to find answers and give myself a better life which had not been so weighed down by regret, and while the foundation of that promise fell through the night and early morning I had spent after my mental block more then justified my own hopes in the long run. How many may just have felt opposed to my lack of vision or my own failure to fear the inevitability of hindsight, but at this point there was this disconnect that was coursing through me at a very visceral level, and with it came the knowledge that even I hadn't known who I was becoming. All that my heart could think, and the extent to which my own ambitions and emotions had pulled me forth from the shadowy depths of one mans own inebriated lowliness, was being brought out to the forefront of the everyday. Not much of what I did now made much sense, but it was enjoyable, and the ephemeral negligence that persevered through my own memory was enough for me.
My source of companionship had left me in much the same gust of wind as she had came in on, saying little to me but baring her teeth all the same as she giggled all the way back into the light of the new day as it approached in full tilt, and with the absence having presented itself i too made myself scarce. Leaving the alley and returning back into the world as the rest of us knew it, my attention shifted to the fact that my backpack had been slightly torn on the left strap, a modification of which hadn't been there before to the best of my knowledge. There were still two days left ahead of me before i was to return to work and face the realization that people would ask about my progress after the passion I had exhibited regarding my little excursion into the midst for second chances, and given my own bluntness in my repertoire there was an expectation that I might just tell the truth. But none the less, here it was as my youthful exterior roamed the streets once more that the avenues and boulevards called to me for something grander in scale then what would usually occupy my nights. Eight o'clock rolled around and my feet stumbled into the front door of the apartment, at this point it almost seemed as if a revolving door would be oddly appropriate, the place was dead quiet as a small post-it note and an audacious looking invitation lie on the counter waiting for my eyes only.
"Hey Brian, don't know why the hell you would even be up at this hour, but stay safe man. I'll be working late...and plus I've been invited out to some ritzy socialite shindig at the Gatsby tonight. Wish me luck!"
The Gatsby had been on the most premier convention centers in all of the western hemisphere, not to mention the little piece of information that holding an event there had cost nearly as much as putting up with ones own home mortgage. Oddly enough it lived up to the pompous and overindulgent nature surrounding its namesake and held functions all throughout the year, commonly frequented by such prominent figures of Gotham as oil tycoons and mafia faithful alike, but the idea that Michael would have been given a pass to such an occasion was partially beyond belief. Part of me worried about the long hours and busy schedule that he had supposedly been exposed to in my leaving the past year, and as much as i was refusing to stake any faith in the claim there was a suspicion that he was back to his old ways and helping the Falcone family again. Never had he cared much for luxury in life, and to make a statement against it he retained his own one bedroom apartment in a lower middle class neighborhood, but I've noticed a lot of things had been either replaced or remodeled since and that coupled with the liquor cabinet holding nearly four hundred dollars in alcohol had been troubling me. Taking the small pamphlet into my hands for further inspection, there had seemed to be something amiss with the whole thing, the first of which had been the cheapened feel of the paper and the nearly illegible writing throughout the events description. The well-off or well spoken for wouldn't need to read the specifics on the festivities, they would just need to know that they would be lounging in a lavish ballroom and treated to an open bar and a fair share of tasteful music. If there was something going on, I felt that it wouldn't be something i could so easily put out of my mind, it was clear that my night was going to be spent crashing a party but given the dress code of "suit and coat, tie optional" i figured i was about to become a stowaway.
The form had said the party was going to start at roughly ten o'clock, so my best bet had been to arrive just shortly after it had started, the bouncers and guests distracted by their own agenda I would be able to sneak in completely unattended. The only real question was how, and for that I remembered that the convention center itself had been retrofitted to the peak of style and comfort, with several balconies extended out from the walls of the more costly rooms and floors for the people who desired a view from above. It wasn't much to go on, but it had been my prior skill to grapple and climb on most surfaces due to five years being trained in rock climbing and gymnastics, it wasn't anywhere near the same thing and the consequences were hideous but there was little else to do. My footing would have to be near immaculate, and the small gaps between sections of brick and mortar going up the structure wasn't going to give me much leverage, but with a running start I made my first stab into what was almost certainly going to be regretted. Launching myself a foot off the ground I landed, or more or less smashed my face into the cold, hard surface and held onto what little there was with all of my strength. At this particular moment I gained a better appreciation for my high school gym teacher, my legs were holding steady but my arms were shaky and buckling within minutes, a few yards at a time I took the distance in stride as the air in my lungs began to feel heavier by the second. It wasn't long before I could see it before me as it lie within arms reach, but my grip was degrading and if i didn't act quickly i would most likely end up flattening a party goer below, my mind raced and my body began to swing in an attempt to leave my position and fly high enough to reach the platform. One. Two. Three. Come on, Brian, I know you haven't been doing much lately and your torso is mostly Twinkies but you have to have some grace. One last deep breath filled my diaphragm and I found my entire body lifted another few feet, and with my right hand reaching all the while i felt my palm firmly planting itself onto a rung of the terrace railing.
A stinging pain shot through my arm as a popping sound preceded its arrival, there wasn't much of a way to know what my brilliant scheme managed to pull but all I knew is that it was limiting my mobility and it wasn't going to look pretty in the morning. Gritting my teeth, I pulled myself up the rest of the way and got a better footing as my form now hugged the bannister, then I not so elegantly crawled over the concrete veranda and allowed my pulse drop back down to a more acceptable rhythm. Picking up my pace and trying to regain my more intimidating stance, I dusted myself off and dropped back out of sight against the small piece of wall between the balcony and the entranceway back into the convention center, curiosity getting the best of me I peered in to further examine what I was up against. The place was in perfect form and the ballroom which lay before my eyes was packed to the brim with people in the finest suits, their faces obstructed my sequenced masks, some more plain but others rather daringly bold whether it be bright colors or gaudy feathers. Don't get me wrong, as much as I knew the people in there to be marginally selfish and obtuse, the party as a whole was one to die for. A smooth jazz number was blaring from a small ensemble band in a simple set of black, white, and grey suits: one was of brutish stature and patiently strummed a deep bass guitar, the second was of a medium build and was preoccupied with his soulful solo on the saxophone, the last of their company was almost sickly gangly and hummed along in synchronization while he played the piano. I could see one of the guests ducking out of the mess of high-priced shoes and stylish cabaret in hopes to reach my position, looking over to my left I saw that there was just enough space for me to shimmy over and stand safely onto the lip of the building, and so I did. As he reached the terrace he removed in mask in a steady sigh and set it down beside him, his aged face now in view there was no mistaking the man that I saw, as no one in Gotham would be unable to place the face of the hero of the little man and the scourge of the criminal element. It was none other than James Gordon.
"Enjoying the night sky, commissioner?" I asked as he continued to blankly stare up at the moonlight, my abrupt comment startling him as he turned around in a mad frenzy to catch a glimpse of who was addressing him, eyes focusing on my meager costume and obviously casting a fair amount of judgment of his own.
"Just getting some fresh air, it's hard being with those people sometimes, you know you're rich when your worst fear is running out of caviar or your yacht not being big enough. What about you?" He inquired, obviously taking note of my position as I was crouched over the balcony railing with my arms folded over one another.
"Just taking in the scenery, I love a good party, it's just so hard to find one that has the right flavor of negligence and tax evasion." I jested.
"And the cape is just for the fun of it, right?" He was taking a quick jab at the costume, but all I could think was whether or not telling him my true purpose was wise, police were more corrupt then ever no matter his reputation.
"I have reason to believe that there is fowl play afoot, and this entire party is a front. The invitation, it's garbled and half-hazardly put together, and the names of the individuals briefly mentioned who are supposedly funding this event...I don't think they are legitimate." I confessed, his eyes becoming fixed on what I was saying and the smirk from before fading.
"A city like this, people who have the money to throw something like this together, they aren't going to stay unnoticed for long. What's your thinking?" Gordon motioned.
"Well, right now we have the richest people in all of Gotham, as well as some of the most well regarded Mafioso's and informants all playing nice and being friends. How nice of a bargaining chip is that? And besides, having no plan hasn't stopped people before, has it?" I was suggesting a name that I knew might not be pleasant to bring to the surface, and his face went emotionally dim for a moment as he realized that my manner of thinking wasn't without merit.
"I'm not a part of the force anymore, if you want my help in this, you're going to need to give me a little bit more direction then that. We don't know who, if anyone at all, is being targeted or putting it there." James explained competently, sound reason lent itself well for police work, and surely contributed to his successful career.
"Well, seeing as i'm a bit underdressed and would stand out like a whore in a monastery, go back inside and be my eyes on the inside. If nothing happens, we both leave here knowing that these people are safe. And if not, then we do what we can. You can use this..." I answered his worries, as I pulled a pair of black matt finish walkie-talkies from within my cloak.
"Are we also going to use a few cups connected by a string?" He mused, obviously doubtful.
"Patience, commissioner." It wasn't much, but for now he knew that I was at least taking the situation seriously, and so was he.
