It would be hard for Sophie to explain how she had gotten into this situation. And to be fair, it was Gina who had initiated the whole thing.
But Sophie knew that she should have said no, she knew that things weren't unlikely to escalate, and she felt that it was her responsibility to keep her friend away from potentially dangerous things, especially when they were in some way related to Victor Zsasz and his employer.
But Gina had insisted that it would be fun to attend the mayor's celebration party and somehow managed to get her hands of two tickets for the event. Furthermore, she had skilfully evaded all of Sophie's questions about their source. The latter suspected that her friend, while not living the life reserved for the creme de la crème of Gotham, might be secretly rich and simply preferred living a modest life that included a small apartment and working long hours.
Sophie was well aware that it was her curiosity or rather obsession with getting glimpses of Gotham's underworld and the people involved into it that had once again outweighed common sense. But the feeble excuse that she needed to yield to this obsession to be a better writer did not justify putting her friend in danger, too.
Yet, here they were, blending in in the club called The Sirens, sipping expensive drinks and listening to talented artists performing life music. Despite her limited experience, Sophie really wasn't a fan of rich people's parties. While the purple attire of the dimly lit club looked classy and the band was doing a great job, no one seemed to really have a good time. Even the young teenagers she had made out in the crowd did not look like they enjoyed herself. Gina seemed disappointed with the fact that nobody was dancing and quickly excused herself to have a smoke and promised to be back for the mayor's speech.
Sophie took the time to tend to her drink in one of the darker areas of the club and made sure to more or less hide behind a couple that could not keep their hands of each other and caused most of the other guests to look away shamefully. Once she considered herself out of sight, she scanned the room for familiar faces.
The penguin-man was like a whirlwind, shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries with everyone that looked important. He seemed genuinely happy and when he came into hearing distance, Sophie noted that he was both rather eloquent and polite. Fortunately, her strategy worked, and she did not have to make up an excuse for being where she was. When the mayor threw a glance in her direction, his gaze became fixed on the kissing couple and he quickly turned away to chat with other people. Did he just blush? Perhaps it was the alcohol, but Sophie could not help grinning at the thought.
Interestingly, Sophie could have sworn that she saw the former bartender of Oswald's cross the room at some point which vastly fuelled her curiosity. Maybe he and the penguin-man simply remained friends after the club had shut down. But that explanation seemed too simple to her. It seemed far more likely that the man who had once worked for the mobster still worked for him after he became mayor.
With some disappointment, she realized that Victor Zsasz was nowhere to be seen. Maybe she had misjudged Oswald Cobblepot. Maybe he had become a righteous man and cut all ties to his former life as a criminal. Maybe his former barkeeper had simply remained by his side as a friend. Maybe Victor Zsasz had found a new employer now that his old boss was an elected political figure. But Sophie didn't really believe that. Probably because she didn't want to believe it.
Her thoughts were interrupted when the band started clearing the stage after their last song and the guests of The Sirens who had been talking loudly before became less and less noisy. Their conversations died away when a blond woman in a purple dress entered the stage and announced that the "saviour from the monsters and the captain of our city" was about to give his speech. Sophie couldn't help but suspect an ounce of sarcasm in her voice, yet the woman's wide smile did not falter.
When Sophie let her gaze wander around the room, Gina was nowhere to be seen. Instead, she noticed that a bald individual had appeared in a corner, and, much to her dismay, her heart skipped a beat.
Sophie slowly took a few steps towards the bar in the middle of the room, so she could get a better view of him. She witnessed him exchanging a look with a tall man wearing glasses and giving him a nod. Isn't that the mayor's chief of staff?
When the man with the glasses turned back to the stage, Victor Zsasz's face which had been expressionless before produced a crooked smile.
It was this smile that made Sophie believe something bad was about to happen. She knew that smile. It had been on his face when she met him before he burnt down her beloved café, it had been on his face before he went on a killing spree in the Canzuncella. It was a smile that sent a shiver down her spine. Instead of paying attention to her new mayor, she focused on his hitman.
She didn't have to wait long to find out. She watched as Victor's eyes merrily followed a bulky figure wearing a red hood that had emerged from the crowd right next to him. Sophie furrowed her brow. This didn't make any sense. I thought the red hood gang was dead?
While the bald man idly watched the more-than-potential threat firing shots into the air, the mayor's chief of staff had made his way onto the stage where he awkwardly held the penguin-man in place instead of dragging him away.
Only after it became apparent that the man had been firing blanks at Cobblepot, the chief of staff loosened his grip on him and Victor Zsasz finally started moving and shot the hooded man in the leg while grinning malevolently.
With squinted eyes, Sophie looked from Zsasz to the man with the glasses. Nygma, she remembered his name and wondered if she had just witnessed the most obvious set-up in the history of set-ups.
Yet, everyone else, including the mayor elect, seemed shocked that Butch Gilzean would try to murder his employer and did not question the fact that his attempt had included the use of blank ammunition. Nor did anyone seem to wonder why Nygma would drag the mayor within the shooter's range instead of onto the floor.
Maybe it was the alcohol, but a part of her found that weirdly amusing.
She couldn't help shaking her head, but was quickly pulled out of her thoughts, when another woman who was violently dragging a man to the stage, came into the picture and dropped said man off its edge. Sophie couldn't keep herself from flinching when she saw the knife sticking in the man's back.
Seconds later, Butch Gilzean used the given distraction and sheer physical force to not only disarm the bald man, but to also thrown him behind the bar's counter, before he made his way towards Nygma in an attempt to strangle him.
The drama in front of her which had caught everyone else breathless (or highly amused in the case of the blond woman on stage), ceased to interest Sophie who hurried towards the bar to examine the figure who apparently had passed out. In different circumstances, the image could have been funny. It was hard to imagine Victor Zsasz gracelessly lying in a puddle of booze.
The bartenders seemed too scared to approach the bald man, so Sophie rushed behind the counter, pushed one of the young men aside, and, without a second thought, crouched down next to Victor Zsasz and grabbed his wrist. With her own heart beating this fast, it was hard to tell, but his pulse seemed to be steady and there was no visible head injury, so she allowed herself to relax.
Sophie was aware that the barkeeper looked at her like she was crazy, so she gave him a glare that must have been mean enough to send him away. Once she felt unwatched, she started to gently brush some shards of glass off the hitman's face and suit. His pale face almost looked peaceful. It seemed weird to her that the men behind the bar were terrified by him even when he was unconscious.
Slowly, the clenching feeling in her chest started to dissolve, yet her pulse didn't slow down as much as she would have liked it to. But that was probably normal. She had just seen people get shot and stabbed- and she was touching a murderer.
The wailing of police sirens made her come back to her senses, so she tore her eyes and hand away from his features. I need to work on my impulse control. And boundaries. Boundaries are important. And I should drink less alcohol in the future.
She was sure that Victor Zsasz wouldn't be happy if he ever found out that she had dared to touch his face.
After one last glance, Sophie got up and left the club to look for Gina. Outside, she only had to follow the peculiar smell that had spread from her friend's hand-rolled cigarette. It would be best if they vanished before the police came.