"I can't believe how great it is seeing you again."

We were lying on the rooftop amongst the stars. Usually I had to plan a conversation before I started it, but with Wally, everything was easy. I loved the way his dark brown eyes would twinkle whenever I said something funny.

We had been the best of friends before I moved to Jump City. People always wondered what miraculous force had brought us to be best friends. I was so sugary and too sweet for my own good then. He would always protect me, with his obnoxious attitude and cocky smile. Girls would always swoon and give in to his obsessive flirting, while boys would run away scared at his witty comebacks. It was a process I had learned to enjoy watching.

Of course, I had no interest in him romantically. The fact that Raven, the person who knew me the most, had set me up with my other best friend, was hilarious. We had had too many long talks, secrets, and exposure to each other's bad habits with each other; in short, we had too much history to love each other in that way.

He continued to gaze up at the night sky. "So, dating anybody nowadays?"

I breathed out a small laugh as he wiggled his eyebrow up and down. I shook my head as it rested in my folded arms. "Only half of Gotham, thanks to Raven," I said sarcastically. "How did she find you anyway?"

"This'll sound totally unlike me…so don't laugh," he warned me jokingly, yet there was still some uneasiness in him. "I've been seeing this matchmaker."

I tried to keep my promise, but a giggle escaped from my mouth. "Are you for real? How serious is this lady…I mean, does she even know what she's doing?"

"Well, some of the people she fixed me up with lasted for a month or two. But I haven't had much luck."

I raised my eyebrow. "You're kidding."

"Well, I used to date this girl. It was kind of a long distance relationship." He sighed dreamily, with fantasy swirling in his eyes. "She had these beautiful pair of lavender eyes, almost like…a cat or something. Her face was so pale, but delicate. And her hair was so purple, so rebellious...I loved it"

There was a slight daze in his eyes as he spoke, and in mine too. It almost sounded like he had been describing…

"Her name was Jinx."

I froze and lay stiffly. "Wait, was she originally from Jump City?" I asked. I didn't want to know the answer.

"Yeah. Hey, did you know her? She said she went to Jump City High."

I ignored his question as I sat up abruptly. "When was the last time you spoke to her?"

"Well, a couple months ago she told me that she was staying here in Gotham and then after that I never saw her again."

This could not be possible. Jinx was on that boat four years ago…the boat that sank while Richard and I were trying to escape from Slade. I knew that ships had seen bits and pieces of it floating in the midst of the ocean. Even five dead bodies had been found washed along the shores of a nearby island. They had all been identified correctly. I shivered.

Wally got up and stared at me intently. "Are you okay? Raven said she was pretty worried about you; now I am too. What's going on?"

I stood up and hugged Wally tightly. "I'm…sorry I have to spoil our little reunion. I don't feel very good all of a sudden."

I ran down the flight of stairs, not knowing exactly what I was running away from. From the corner of my eye, I could see his eyes cast upon me. Was he really that worried about me? Because it seemed like everybody was these days.

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I stood before Raven as she observed my outfit. Wearing pinstripe skirt and a loose white v-neck shirt, I felt my ankles wobbling awkwardly in my classic-looking three-inch pumps.

Today was my scheduled interview with G&W Corporation. Normally I would have gone to the interview in my usual jeans and sweatshirt ensemble, but today was important; more like the company was important. Though it had only been established for four years, G&W had it's own bank and trade market, and it was the high-tech factory where government weapons were manufactured. But G&W was best known for it's newspaper, The Gotham Times, where worldly secrets were released and gossip was proven right or wrong (by it's writers). It was the one thing I had been working my ass off for during my depression.

She sighed disappointedly and I slouched this time. "What's wrong with it now?" I asked, my last nerve almost lost. But a smile broke out on her face, and I pretended to send her a stern glare.

"You look fine. But put some makeup on, won't you? You know, just in case it's a guy who's interviewing you."

I had always downplayed my looks. Besides my clothes, I hardly ever wore any significant makeup and usually wore my hair up in a ponytail or left down. Many men had told me that my beauty was a gift, but it only made me feel cheated. My "beauty" made me feel self-conscious and exposed.

A slight brush of mascara and small touch of eye shadow later, I hugged Raven and walked out the door. The taxi drive had been hell, even though it lasted only for three minutes, because the driver wouldn't turn down his Mozart music. I thanked the driver as I got out of the cab, trying to keep a smile on my face. I paused just before I stepped in through the revolving French doors, wondering if I knew what I was getting into.

I was pretty sure I did…I think.

The floors were a beautiful marble, and my heels clicked against them nicely. I stepped into the elevator, covered in rich gold.

"What floor, miss?"

The uniformed man waited patiently for my answer as I dug into my purse for the directions, but his eyes were burning with a fiery gaze as they lingering on my chest while I told him to take me to the twentieth floor. It was the blouse. At least I knew it was working.

I stepped out of the elevator and walked up to the front desk where a woman about a year older than me was sitting. There was a fancy engraved block on her desk that said Donna. She was pretty with black-hair and her skin was fair, unlike my naturally tanned skin, her eyes were cat-like and blue. She looked so innocent, as though untainted by the world…I hated her already.

Forcing a pleasant smile on my face, I greeted her kindly. "Hi, I'm Kori Anders. I'm, uh, here for an interview about your newspaper's job opening."

I couldn't tell if I was just too nervous to function, but I could have sworn that her blue eyes flashed black with alertness when I said my name. She knew who I was. She did a good job of covering up her shock, because she smiled and stood up from her desk.

"Oh, of course. This way, please."

I followed her though the floor. The offices were nice, built out of glass, just like the building was. Heads turned my way, and I wasn't sure if it was the blouse again or if I had something on my face. Finally we reached a stop as we came to a large glass room.

There was some kind of sympathy running between our intense silence, and I knew that she had undergone everything that I was about to go through. She opened the door slowly, dramatically, and gave me a small smile.

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Raven was right. A guy was interviewing me. He wasn't cute or ugly, just your same old Average Joe, only a couple of years older than me. But he did not look at my blouse or my face for more than two seconds; he was being careful.

"And how old are you?"

"Twenty-one. I just graduated college three months ago with a master's degree in journalism."

"Have you had any experience with detective work?" He waited for my answer patiently. Giving him a skeptical look, I answered awkwardly with a simple "no".

Twenty-five questions later, I sat still in the chair, keeping my poise. I was getting antsy already, and I wasn't sure how much longer I could stay still for a couple more minutes. Michael, the name of the man interviewing me, was still at it with the questions. My heart flipped as he came to his final conclusion about me.

"I see that you've graduated from Stanford as valedictorian." The black-haired, brown-eyed man inspected me intently with approval, and then looked at my resume once more. "Here at G&W, knowledge is just as important as dedication. I see that yours will do you well here."

There was silence in the empty room. I held my breath as he shut the portfolio up, waiting for his answer. "So, do I get the job?"

He smiled slightly. "Yes. But I should have you know that this decision was not based on just this interview itself. You were highly requested here by G&W's president himself."

"And who is G&W's president?"

"He's not here right now."

"Well, then could I meet your vice president?"

Michael gave me a blank look. It didn't look entirely confusing on his part; it was the kind of look that seemed to be worn out, as if it were used too many times on different people. "I'm sorry, but Mr. Gr-"

"-I want to know who I am working for, Michael," I cut in, strengthening my voice. Michael, seeing that I was serious, nodded meekly and walked out the doors. I sat in the leather chair switching my gaze between the two paintings in the room boredly. It wasn't until I looked at the clock until I realized that it had been twenty minutes since Michael had left the room. My fists curled up into balls. If my boss didn't want to meet me, then I would have to go to him myself.

I walked out into the hallway with a straight posture, although I wasn't exactly feeling all the confidence that I was showing inside. It wasn't comfortable that I was probably going to screw up my job on my first day. I came to the front desk where I saw Donna, her blue eyes questioning my presence.

I was just about to open my mouth when I heard Michael's voice coming from another hall. "But sir, the girl wants to meet her boss," he said panting. "It's been twenty minutes since I left her in there!"

"I don't care how long she's been waiting, Mike. What's so special about her anyways? Tell me what she's like first if you're so desperate for me to meet her."

That voice…so velvety and bold…it sounded so familiar…

Michael was finally in sight. He was pushing somebody in a suit down the hallway. "Red hair, green eyes, smart…boss, just go!"

The guy that Michael was struggling with suddenly stopped trying to get away and paused for a moment. I stormed up to them, and I saw Michael's eyes widen fearfully. Frightened, he pushed his boss towards me recklessly. "Meet your boss!" he said in hastiness, and disappeared around the corner. Poor guy. If he was afraid of me, then he must've been afraid of everything.

We collided against the wall, the man who was supposedly my boss crushing me against it. I slid away from the man's body as quickly as I could, and I sighed in frustration as I brushed my blouse. Quietly muttering angry nonsense under my breath, I was soon interrupted by my boss.

"…Kori?"

That voice. His words flew around my ears like mosquitoes, diving and threatening before they bit me. And then they bit me. I felt instantly poisoned, paralyzed in my own shoes. Thoughts that had disappeared long ago came back again, but the old hopes were gone for good. I lifted my gaze up slowly, silently praying that I might be wrong about who it was.

I felt his gaze on me, and I finally looked at him. As our eyes met, his unreadable and seeing me at last, my vision began to fuzz around the edges.

There he stood. Richard Grayson, my past, the person who had taken away the Kori that everybody used to love, was standing there. His eyes were still as blue as ever but they were no longer soft, but they had become solid and rigid. He had gotten taller and leaner, though his muscles showed underneath his shirt, but his boyish looks hadn't changed the tiniest bit. His jaw was clenched tightly, from what I could tell.

By this time, I felt eyes plastered on my face. Workers were peering from their rooms, and people were crowding the hallways. They were eager to see what would happen to this lost romance.

I felt so weak all of a sudden. I sank down to the ground, putting my fingers to my temple. I put my forehead to my knees. I was vaguely aware of the gasps that echoed in the room. Dimly I felt Richard's alarm as he broke his stiff posture to put his worried hands on my shoulders. After a few moments I felt myself being cradled in his arms; I could feel him running. My human instinct told me to hang onto consciousness, but I was too weak, and it was a blessed relief to let it go.

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