DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own the Joker or any other DC characters, only Julie and other OC's I implement into this book.
Crime & Chaos
" THE FUNDRAISER "
by alwaysgeia
The next week went by like a breeze and the next Saturday afternoon rolled up.
There was no sign of the Joker but, then again, it had only been a week since he had tortured a man in a make-shift Batman suit.
Currently, Julie had been staring at herself through the tall mirror for the past 10 minutes. She wasn't sure whether or not the dress suited her. Or if her face was too asymmetrical, or that one of her legs stuck out from the slit in the emerald green cocktail dress. Her self-esteem was at an all-time low; she knew that there were going to be supermodels and pretty, young women at the party.
Hugging herself, she sighed and slipped off the dress that she would wear in the evening. Her door swung open and she let out a scream.
"Julie, they need me at the hospital-"
Julie scrambled to pick up the dress and pressed it against her body, "get out!"
"Sorry, honey!" Her mum shut the door and left a shaking Julie alone in the room.
"Jesus..." She threw the dress on the bed and changed into her loungewear. As she rubbed her fatigued eyes, the Joker's face popped up in her mind. How he had moaned whilst he sliced open her tongue, how he licked his scars, how he showed no remorse, no empathy for the people he had murdered...
The slam of the front door spooked her and her body jolted. Pulling back the curtains, she saw her mum's car reverse out of the drive-way and steer down the street.
She didn't want to admit it, but she was anxious. In the week where he hadn't tormented her, she had been normal, or, at least, close to normal, but now, the panic was exposed and raw. Thoughts of the Joker consumed her late nights and her times being home alone, but, it was nothing compared to how she felt on the day of a fundraiser for Harvey Dent. Why today of all days? She was noticing a pattern, maybe, that he would leave her alone for a week and then terrorise her and then do it all over again.
The evening was rolling up and she applied light makeup. After slipping on her dress, her phone buzzed.
"Beth? Hey."
"Heyyy..." She knew that tone. Beth always stretched out her words when there was a problem or she was apologetic. "I can't come tonight. I tried calling Clarice but she didn't pick up. I'm sorryyy."
"It's fine. Three out of four isn't that bad, but I'll miss you. I was planning on getting pissed with you." They both chuckled.
"What about Maggie and Clare?"
Julie snorted, "you know what they're like when they're drunk. 'I love you so much, Beth! Mwah!'"
Beth giggled from the other end of the phone. "How do you even remember?"
"I don't get that drunk, remember? I'm as sober as a judge."
"We'll get some drinks next weekend and have a movie night, OK? I really wanted to come but something came up..."
"Seriously, Beth, it's fine. I have to go, Clarice is calling me. Bye." And she hung up.
Clarice wasn't calling her. She just didn't want to talk to Beth until after the party. She was the only one who she could speak to without completely draining her energy. At the party, she'd have to converse with the huge bundle of energy that is Clarice and whoever she introduced her to. All that chaotic energy in the same room...
She shivered.
Honestly, she'd rather be tormented by the Joker than go to the party. Murderous clown or a snob-infested party?
Her brows furrowed in frustration, becoming annoyed with how her mind instantly turned serious and dangerous situations into a humorous farce. I can thank mum for that one. Cheers, mum, for teaching me how to down-play every genre of situation, no matter how big of a deal it was. Such an example would be when dad died and she pretended it didn't happen. "He's selfish for doing it, leaving me to deal with everything..."
God, why did she have to have an emotionally unavailable and unstable mother?
Her thoughts drifted again...
What is the Joker all about? she wondered, chaos?
She answered her own question: he's someone who disdains order and thrives on chaos.
Not simply anarchy but sheer, raw, unpredictable chaos. A man who was broken from the inside out; from the emotional trauma to the physical. A man who became chaos itself. Constantly finding the funny in the horrifying and perverse...
Chewing on her thumb-nail, she thought about his scars and how he licked them all the time. Was it a tic? A habit? Something he did to ease the pain? Gah, she didn't know anything about this guy. Or why he pursued her. If he hadn't been maimed, he'd be good-looking. Handsome, even. I am disgusting.
She stared thoughtfully in her mirror, running her fingers through her coily curls, imagining little scenarios in her head about him. A normal life he used to have, perhaps. Did he actually slice his face open? She fell back onto the bed, sighing. She knew he made up the story he scared her with - it was about her, for Christ's sake, about her dysfunctional family and relationships. She wondered if it took one bad day.
One bad day that made him go insane.
Soft classical music echoed through the top floor of Wayne Enterprises.
Julie stepped off of the elevator, her purse in one hand and phone in the other. She tapped her phone's keyboard and clicked send to Clarice. 'Where are you? Just got off the elevator.'
She felt slightly inappropriate for focusing on her phone but realised most of the party-attendees had their face glued to their screen.
Looking up, she saw Clarice twisting her head from side-to-side around the room. She ambulated toward the blue-dressed-brunette.
"You look great, Clare." Her words were true but her expressions said otherwise. A forced smile had formed on her face, it was almost painful. As her grin stretched from ear to ear, she was reminded of him. When he smiled, did it hurt?
Clarice's brows furrowed for a split second before a smile plastered her tanned face. "Come on. I want you to meet someone. His name's-"
A man had appeared in front of them.
"Harvey." The two of them shook hands.
"The Harvey Dent? Clare told me this fundraiser is for you."
"Yeah, yeah. One and only." He chuckled awkwardly, "I have Bruce Wayne to thank for that."
After a few seconds, he said: "Well, enjoy the party, um... what did you say your name was?"
"I didn't. It's Julie."
"Julie, right. I-" A woman walked up to them and wrapped her hand around Harvey's arm.
"Harvey, I was wondering where you were." The woman looked at Julie and Clare, smiling. "Looks like you've overcome your fear of the Trust Fund Brigade."
Harvey chuckled. "It's your fault for leaving me alone, Rachel. I had no choice."
She smiled, looking up at Harvey, "I need to talk to you."
"Enjoy the evening, folks," they both walked off, "so now you want to rescue me?"
The loud roar of a helicopter drowned everyone's chatter. The chopper touched down on the helipad outside and the famous Bruce Wayne stepped out of it with a clutch of supermodels.
"I'm sorry that I'm late- I'm glad to see that you all started without me! Now, where is Harvey? Where-" Wayne looked around curtly and spotted him, "Harvey Dent. The man of the hour."
Harvey looked on, smiling awkwardly.
"Where's Rachel Dawes? She is my oldest friend, come here." Rachel cringed subtly and walked forward, her arms crossed.
"You know, when Rachel first told me that she was dating Harvey Dent, I had one thing to say... the guy from those god-awful campaign commercials? 'I Believe In Harvey Dent.'" Scattered laughter erupted around the room.
Harvey shifted uncomfortably as Wayne gave him a thumbs up. "Yeah, nice slogan, Harvey. But, it got Rachel's attention, then I started to pay attention to Harvey. And all that he's been doing as our new D.A., and you know what? I believe in Harvey Dent. I believe that on his watch, Gotham can feel a little safer. A little more optimistic. Look at this face." He gestured to Harvey.
"This is the face of Gotham's bright future. To Harvey Dent. Let's hear it for him!" He raised his glass as everyone clapped. Harvey, who had a genuine smile on his face, accepted the toast.
After Bruce Wayne's speech, the guests went back to conversing or occupied themselves with their phones. The latter was more prominent.
"Where's Maggie?" Julie turned to Clare, who was on her phone, too.
"Texting her..." She said, typing away on her mobile.
With a sigh, Julie grabbed two champagne glasses from a passing server and downed one. Gesturing the other glass to Clare, she shook her head. More for me, I guess.
She expected the party to be full of conversation and life, but, it was just a hundred or so rich Gotham snobs on their mobiles who just wanted free alcohol. Only a handful contributed donations for Harvey Dent. Personally, she felt second-hand embarrassment for the guy. She would be if the spotlight was on her. But, she didn't know the kind of guy he was; maybe he liked the attention.
"Jules, she's over by the food table." (Just co-op-er-ate, Jules)
God, why. He crossed her mind again and she subconsciously rolled her tongue.
She laughed. "I don't blame her. I'll find her." Without waiting for Clarice's reply, she ambulated to the food table and searched for Maggie, whilst simultaneously deciding what to choose from the buffet. Pursing her lips, she decided on a cheese cracker.
After walking around for maybe five minutes looking for Maggie, she gave up and found Clare talking to a shady-looking guy.
"Couldn't find her. Who's this?"
"He just offered me a modelling job! What did you say your name was?"
The man stared at Clarice for a good 3 seconds before answering, slowly. "Smith. Mark Smith. Our company's name is..." he glanced at the floor, "Mark's Modelling Agency."
Julie couldn't help it and started laughing. "You can't be serious."
"Julie-"
This 'Mark' guy stormed off, probably pissed that he couldn't get into Clare's pants.
"What the hell? Did you actually just ruin my chance of being a model?"
She huffed, raising an eyebrow at Clare. "He just wanted you to suck his dick. Probably got his name off of a Sharpie pen."
"Whatever." Clare couldn't stop the grin forming. "The dick size of one, too?"
They both snorted, covering their mouths with their hands. They were the only two in the room that were enjoying themselves.
A few hours passed and the party was dead. Clarice had gone off somewhere else, Maggie was nowhere to be seen and Julie was left alone.
Beth wouldn't have left me alone with these people. She'd be a good friend and talk and joke and-
The elevator ding echoed through the room and a gunshot followed. All conversation ceased, replaced by screams. A man painted in greasepaint and purple attire exited the elevator, along with his thugs.
"Gooood evening, ladies and gentlemen." A voice she knew quite well announced himself mere seconds after the gunshot. She froze and the colour drained completely from her face. She couldn't look away from him, his presence simply demanded attention. Without her knowing, her back straightened up. His energy was so... strong. So mesmerising. He moved through the terrified guests, a tugging smile on his lips.
"We are... tonight's entertainment." He said, turning his head in different directions like he was searching for something. Or someone. Two of his thugs pushed a man to the floor behind him, threatening him with their shotguns.
He practically skipped to a table and plucked a shrimp from a food bowl, chewing vigorously. "I only have one question. Where is Harvey Dent?"
Silence. No one spoke or moved. Julie held her (fourth) champagne glass to her chest, trying to find comfort in it. It didn't do much. He was right in front of her now, how could he not see?-
The Joker twirled around with a shotgun pointed at her, and their eyes met before he ripped the glass out of her hand. She wasn't even fazed by the gun, but his eyes... his eyes were so dark, so full of hate when he looked at her. Like she was the ugliest thing in the world to him. Most of the champagne spilt out because of how aggressive he snatched it. Still, he drank the remaining drops and slammed it onto a nearby table.
"You know where Harvey is?" He smacked a woman's head in frustration, "do you know who he is?"
Julie hopelessly searched the crowd for her friends.
"I'll settle for his loved ones..."
His voice had been drowned out by her sheer panic of trying to find Clarice and Maggie. Earlier, she was upset by Beth's absence, but now she was glad she hadn't come. Her entire being shook and she could feel the hairs on her arms stand up. Joker had gripped an old man's collar and had a knife pressed into his neck.
A soft, feminine voice tuned in. Julie looked around and saw a woman standing in the middle of the room.
"Okay, stop." All eyes turned to look at the brave heroine. Rachel Dawes. Wasn't she the woman with Harvey Dent? She could practically hear sighs of relief, her own thrown into the mix. The Joker seemed distracted (or offended) by her bravery whilst everyone else was astounded.
"Well, hello, beautiful." He greeted Rachel with a smile and strode towards her, smoothing out his hair. "You must be Harvey's squeeze."
He neared her with the knife, waving it in the air slightly. "And you are beautiful..."
Rachel's previously brave confrontation shrivelled like a deflating balloon as he approached her, circling around her like a hyena. "You look nervous - is it the scars?"
He stopped in front of her. Rachel couldn't look away from him, her eyes glued to his in terror, pleading for her life without words. "Wanna know how I got 'em?" He gripped the back of her head, pressing the knife into her cheek, just like he did to Julie. Like everyone else in the room, she stared at the two of them. Julie listened, though, more out of interest than fear of his story.
"So, I had a wife, who was beautiful. Like you. Who tells me..." Joker looked up for a second in thought, like he was thinking of what to say next, "I worry too much. Who tells me I oughta smile more. Who gambles. And gets in deep with the sharks. Hey." She tried to pull her head back from his harsh grip, "one day they carve her face. And we have no money for surgeries. She can't take it." Rachel stares at the knife edging closer to her mouth. "I just want to see her smile again. I just want her to know I don't care about the scars."
"So, I stick a razor in my mouth and do this-" He pretended to shift his jaw side to side in some kind of chewing motion, "to myself. And you know what? She can't stand the sight of me." Licking his scars, he shook her head in his grip. "She leaves. Now, I see the funny side. Now, I'm always smiling." He raised his knife from Rachel's cheek, grinning.
Julie furrowed her brows. How many times has he told a different story? How would chewing a razor-blade have sliced both sides of his face like that? It didn't make sense. He didn't make sense.
Rachel slugged him in the stomach and he wheezed. "Ha. A little fight in you. I like that."
"Then you're gonna love me." A gravelly voice growled, owned by none other than the Batman.
The Joker turned. Batman caught him in a blow and sent him backwards. The thugs immediately jumped him and tried to fend him off, but he took them on two at a time and disarmed them without sweating. The crowd looked on in awe. A thug prehended Batman and made him buckle.
The purple-clad clown clicked a blade from the tip of his shoe and kicked - jabbing between the plates of armour that covered his ribcage. A wheeze of laughter let loose.
Julie caught the eyes of Clarice and she sighed in relief. Slipping through the huddled crowd, she made her way over, somehow undetected by the thugs.
"Oh, god. Julie-" Clarice was in tears, her mascara and foundation streaked down her face.
"Shh. Come on." She nodded her head to the bathroom. It was incredibly obvious, but she hoped they could manoeuvre their way around it.
She grabbed her hand and squeezed it reassuringly, leading her towards the bathroom. A gunshot pounded through the air. "Very poor choice of words." And a scream followed. Looking back, Julie saw Batman dive out of the window. As she stared at the window, she didn't even notice the Joker walking away from it. Or when one of his thugs appeared in front of them.
The thug smacked Clarice's head with the barrel of the gun, knocking her out cold. She quarrelled with the thug and gripped the gun, struggling to wrestle with it. He head-butted her and ripped his gun from her grasp.
Julie stumbled backwards and held her bleeding nose, feeling light-headed. Before she had time to recover from the attack, a leather hand snagged its way in her hair and pulled her head up. She gasped and squeezed her eyes shut, refusing to look at him. She knew that smell anywhere. Sweat, gunpowder and gasoline...
She felt something rough graze her ear and a whisper invaded her hearing. "You got all dressed up for me, hm?"
"Not for you, asshole." She spat. Police sirens whistled in the distance and Joker's head looked at the window.
"The pigs have arrived." Growling in annoyance, he threw her forward, making her fall onto her hands on knees. Without a second's hesitation, Julie crawled over to Clarice. Joker and his thugs left for the elevator. As the elevator doors started to close, the two of them gazed at each other.
Joker looked back as his car sped away. Breathing hard, exhilarated, he touched the blood running down his sweaty white makeup and smacked the back of the driver's seat. The driver glanced over his shoulder at him and then back to the road. "What do we do about Dent?"
"I'm a man of my word."