It was going to be a long night.
He was itching to skip the event altogether, but one stern glance and a patience hum from Alfred quickly shutdown that idea. Luckily for him though, Batman needed to pay a visit to Metropolis as well. A new powerful strain of opioids had been flourishing through Gotham's underworld the past month. It was much more addictive than the usual strains of drugs and the rate of overdoses had skyrocketed. After a few interrogations and sleepless nights, Bruce managed to trace the supplier to the industrial sector in Metropolis. Waiting for the bat computers to finish an extensive background check on all the warehouses was proving to be a test to his limited patience.
So here he was. Miles away from Gotham, outside of an extravagant gala in Metropolis.
Bruce Wayne hadn't made a public appearance in a while (an Arkham breakout on top of the opioid crisis had kept him very pre-occupied) and the tabloids started to stir. As much as Bruce hated to admit it, Alfred was right. He still needed to keep up with the affairs of Gotham's White Knight. Especially this affair, as rumors of his attendance caused a stir in both Gotham and Metropolis. After all, it was an event hosted by Victor Damera himself.
It was a name he hadn't seen make headlines in a long, long time.
Over a decade ago, Wayne Tech and Damera Industries dominated the tech sector. Thomas Wayne and Jamie Damera were strong allies in their business and personal life. Fond memories of greeting Uncle Damera and playing with Victor in the meadows behind Wayne Manor filled his head. Uncle Jamie was over as often for family dinner as he was for business. A familiar dull ache in Bruce's heart came and faded quickly. He still remembered Uncle Jamie's funeral. It was the last time he had seen Victor, and frankly, he wanted to keep it that way.
But nevertheless, here he was. It would be suspicious of Bruce Wayne to pass on an invitation to a gala, let alone the chance to party with Metropolis's most elite.
He purposely arrived an hour late, claiming to Alfred it was to keep up his nonchalant playboy attitude, but they both knew it was just to spend the least amount of time there and the most amount of time on the case.
With an exasperated sigh, he let his features lighten, ran a hand through his elegantly styled hair entered the building with a charming smile.
The hum of charismatic chatter and clanks of champagne cheers covered the gala in a warm and joyous tone. Clark anxiously shifted in his shoes, brushing out the creases in his suit trying to shake off the evident feeling that he was very out of place. It was normal for reporters to attend galas like these, but the swirling of tuxedos and dresses worth more than a year's rent heightened his nerves. It had been a long and stressful work week at the Daily Planet and the last place on earth he wanted to be was here. But Perry was very insistent that Clark went tonight and made it quite clear that if he didn't have a story by tomorrow morning, to "not bother coming in at all."
Clark politely accepted an offer of champagne from a bottle girl in a feeble attempt to blend into his surroundings, as his eyes scanned the crowd. The event started an hour ago and he still didn't see any sign of the man he was hoping to interview. He usually didn't mind waiting but being in this crowd made him uneasy. His foot softly tapped in annoyance. Where was this airhead playboy?
As if on cue, he saw Bruce Wayne ceremoniously enter the gala, immediately being swarmed by hospitality, as a bellman took his coat.
Clark silently pouted. No one offered to check-in his coat.
He tuned in with his super hearing, picking up the conversation with ease.
"Welcome back to Metropolis Bruce! Nice to see that smile of yours again." A woman cooed.
"The pleasures all mine, the party scene in Metropolis is so much better. Especially the ladies." Bruce flashed a grin, practically making the growing crowd of women around him melt. Clark rolled his eyes.
The guy was such a moron.
"It's really nice to meet you, Mr. Wayne! I've been following Wayne Tech's advancement for years, and you've done a fantastic job. Could give Victor here a lesson or two on running a successful company." An older man chuckled, but his eyes were sincere.
"Thank you very much, but I'm simply here to show an old friend some support and congratulations. I'm looking forward to seeing Victor tonight, it's been a while."
It had indeed been a while; Clark knew that much. Ever since the death of CEO Jamie Demara, the company went into a downward spiral. Victor the new heir to the company, tried his best to fill his father's shoes but failed miserably. The company's motives started to change and any resemblance of its golden reputation faded with the late CEO. Damera Industries was constantly tied in court with accusations of fraud, mob-ties, and blackmail. Thomas Wayne even cut ties with Demara Industries, claiming that their companies values no longer aligned. As Wayne Tech continued to dominate and define the tech sector, Damera Industries was reduced to the punchline among cooperate talk.
But yet here he was, a decade later at the celebration of the re-branding and re-vamping of a new company, now known as VD Inc. To his luck, Clark saw Bruce Wayne charmingly excusing himself from his small fan-club as he walked to the bar to order a drink. Now was his chance.
Clark impressively weaved through the crowd considering his large stature and made his way towards the billionaire.
"Nice to meet you, . I'm Clark Kent from the Daily Planet– "
"- Oh c'mon you reporters never enjoy yourself. Soak it all in, you probably don't get the chance to experience this that often." Bruce said smugly, playfully gesturing to the extravagant venue. Clark refrained from snorting and bit back an impolite retort. He took his Ma's words to heart: "if you don't have anything nice to say don't say anything at all."
"A whiskey on the rocks for my friend here," Bruce announced to the bartender.
Friend? They had just met. But then again, Bruce Wayne did appear like the superficial type. In an instance, Bruce whisked away from his still full champagne glass and replaced it with a whiskey.
"This will help loosen ya up. I'd take one too but had a wild time yesterday, just sticking to champagne for now." Bruce chimed taking a sip of his drink. Clark lifted an eyebrow in confusion as he could most certainly tell that was ginger ale he was sipping on. Only someone with enhanced scent could tell, but of course, that wasn't a quality Clark Kent would possess.
"Thank you for the kind gesture, Mr. Wayne. It's a pleasure to meet you tonight, but If you don't mind, I have a few questions regarding your past business relations with -"
"-Ladies and Gentlemen, I'd like to all welcome you to my gala tonight!" Clark huffed as he was cut off again, but this time from a different airhead playboy.
The strong voice boomed from the microphone followed by loud cheers and applause. Victor Demara stood proudly at the podium, standing with a commanding posture and a charming smile.
"I'd like to thank all of you for your support this past year. As you know, Damera Industries has been dormant for quite sometime, but I am determined to bring it back to its once prosperous and cutting-edge status!" Again, loud hollers and applause filled the corridor. Clark glanced back to catch Bruce's reaction, but to his surprise, the man was gone.
Bruce slipped away into the crowds, getting away from the annoying reporter. As reputable as the Daily Planet was, he wondered why they would send such a babbling idiot into the field. He must have been a new guy. Quickly disregarding the reporter, Bruce made his way through the crowd focusing on Victor's speech instead.
"Most importantly, I'd like you all to hear that I vow to bring great honor to this city and create Metropolis back into the booming tech center it once was. I'd like to thank my old childhood friend Bruce Wayne for attending. You have been a big inspiration to my comeback, and I cannot thank you enough."
The crowd roared in cheers and "awwws" as Victor's face beamed gesturing to him. Bruce beamed back brightly, flashing his pearly whites and lifting his drink up in friendly acknowledgment. He received pats on the back from the people around him and toasted with a dozen more. His breath shortened with annoyance.
God he absolutely hated these galas.
Victor's speech droned on about declared promises and the vision he had for the new company. Despite how wonderful all of the promises were, Bruce had heard this spiel all before on the lips of hollow politicians. He had to admit though, he was impressed with Victor being able to gain so much capital so quickly. He must have secured some high and mighty investors for the re-launch, which was impressive within itself. Especially for Victor. But it had been a decade since he saw him.
Perhaps the man had changed.
"Thank you again for all attending, and please enjoy the night!" Victor declared with a toast.
Finally. An opening for him to leave. Bruce politely excused himself from his current conversation ( not like he was really listening anyway) and headed out to the far-left corridor where he had been told where the coat check-in was. Out of the corner of his eye just as he was walking into the hallway, he caught a glimpse of a familiar reporter from across the hall hastily making his way towards him. He could have almost sworn he looked concerned. Probably desperate to get anything out of him to meet his deadline for a mediocre report.
He had enough with the large crowds and nosey reporters for the night: it was time to investigate the warehouse.
"Thank you and please enjoy the night!"
As the crowd started to disperse to continue mingling with some getting ready to depart, Clark's eyes scanned the room for Bruce and cursed when he could not find him. Perhaps he was getting his jacket.
"Excuse me, ma'am. Where is the coat check-in?" Clark asked the nearest bottle girl to him. She flashed him a confused smile as it was painfully obvious Clark was still wearing his coat.
"Hallway to your right sir."
Clark sheepishly thanked the lady and searched for Bruce. He was determined to get a statement or two for his article. He'd take chasing after a billionaire asshole than dealing with Perry's bitter disappointment any day. He just caught the glimpse of the black-haired man before he disappeared into the left hallway. Clark quickly followed suit, turning the corner to see an annoyed Bruce Wayne searching for the coat. Weird. Guess the bottle girl was mistaken.
"You again? Look I'm flattered you're such a big fan of mine, but I don't do autographs." Bruce huffed with a twinkle in his eye attempting to be carefree, but that did little to mask the heavy impatience in his voice.
"No no, of course not… Mr. Wayne, I must insist on getting a few statements from you." Clark stumbled, straightening his posture to make up for the lack of confidence in his voice.
"Guess I'll get you a tequila shot instead of whiskey next time… Fine go ahead," Bruce said with a dismissive sigh, as he rummaged through the rack.
A distinct ring and a soft blue light emitted from one of the jacket pockets and Bruce immediately scooped it up. Clark was slightly annoyed that Bruce was immediately glued to his phone, reading whatever message he had just received, completely disregarding his presence. Probably about an after-party he was rushing to. Clark rolled his eyes and cleared his throat.
"So, about earlier. Your past business partnership with -"
For the third time that night, Clark was cut off. But instead of another rambling billionaire, it was a deafening boom that shook the foundation of the venue.
Screams erupted from the venue as rough voices and sounds of ammunition rounds being loaded echoed.
A robbery.
Note:
Hope you enjoyed the story! Been on a long hiatus from writing so hope this was okay :) Any type of comments are appreciated they really make my day!