A young handsome man gazed out into the clear view that lay just outside Wayne Enterprises. There came a soft knock on his door.
"What?" he asked irritated.
A nervous clerk peered in through the room, her eyes falling on her boss's chair; it's back turned against her.
"Um, Mr. Grayson?"
He swiveled his chair swiftly. "Isaid WHAT!"
The poor secretary began to tremble fearfully as she hesitantly inched her way closer to the grim businessman and dropped a dainty piece of paper. She waited, still shaking.
Richard began to scan the note, his eyes never leaving it. "Well," he asked expectantly but nevertheless impatient, "Aren't you going to LEAVE!"
At the sound of his voice she replied back, "I'm sorry, Sir," and with that she scrambled out of the room.
Still sitting down in a slouched position, he sighed to himself and immediately felt a pang of guilt, as usual. He wasn't always like this; heck, being grumpy so many years had made him feel like an old man. He was once filled with pride and triumphant glory in his systems. He always used to be so…happy. But that was when he was Robin.
Sure, being the most adored superhero in Jump City was great, but being Nightwing was never and would never be as great as his experience with the Titans. As if on cue, he walked over to the bookcase and pulled a book down, causing the shelf of treasured volumes to turn, revealing the infamous costumes of Nightwing and former superhero Robin. But he didn't even stop to look at those. Instead he took hold of a photograph with five teens pictured in it.
A half-robot half-man had his arm risen up in a cheering type position, a cyber-cannon replacing one of his arms. He smiled warmly as he recognized Cyborg. On the right side was a green-skinned lean teen in a purple and black uniform with his arm slung around a dismal Goth with gray colored skin in a long purple cloak.
And then he saw her. Everyday he looked at this picture and saw her. He hated her for making his life miserable. She was the one who made him Donald Trump. She was the one who left him watching her run off in tears into the distance, trying to get anywhere away from him. HE HATED HER FOR GOD'S SAKE!
He got control of his anger hastily. The last thing he needed was a trashed office, which did happen one particular time like this. Sighing, he thought to himself, 'who am I kidding? I could never hate her, she's too wonderful.'
Her name was Starfire. The beautiful goddess who haunted his dreams always every night. Her auburn hair would always blow in the wind whenever he saw her, and at times like this he always felt it was his job to tuck every strand of hair that fell in front of her beautiful face. The emerald eyes on her orange tanned face twinkled out of joy, staring back at him. He lo-
"Richard? Richard? Are you there?"
Breathing in deeply, he turned to face the giant-sized screen with a man looking at him.
"What do you want Bruce?" he asked wearily.
"I was just calling to see if you were coming to the party tomorrow. Everyone will be there," the 50 year-old man said with a tint of hope in his voice.
But Richard crossed his arms and turned away to hide his look of disappointment. "I know, But SHE won't be there."
With a sigh, Bruce tried to console him. "Richard, you've gotta get over this…girl."
In sudden rage, Richard faced Bruce. "For your information, I AM over her." He paused slightly, and was about to say something but held it in.
"I'm glad to hear that. Now, go to the party tomorrow. I'll be expecting you." The screen flickered slightly and finally turned off.
"…And she's not just some girl."
He picked up his suitcase and opened the door, a poorly hung wreath smacking him right in the face. He picked up the wreath and flung it carelessly but with force amongst the shocked employees. As he strode by, they heard him mutter something.
"Stupid holidays."
A/N: Okay, so in the next chapter, you're going to find out why Robin/Richard/Dick/Nightwing/ or whatever you wanna call him hates the holidays. Anyways, please review so that I know what you guys think of this story!REVIEEEEW!