Gotham
Gotham breathed like a slumbering monster.
The city lights reflected in the dark puddles of the wet sidewalk, and the wind slicing through the corners carried the scent of gasoline, cigarettes, and pretense.
Lex Luthor's limousine glided smoothly to the entrance of the Gotham Royal's main hall, where the powerful gathered in designer suits and fake smiles. The spotlights above the marquee flickered irregularly, as if even the electricity hesitated to illuminate the event.
The car stopped. A valet hurried to the rear door.
"Lex Luthor, of LuthorCorp."
The name echoed with weight at the entrance.
Nearby guests turned their heads in an automatic reaction. A mix of respect, curiosity, and suspicion glinted in the eyes that followed him.
Lex stepped out with firm strides, adjusting the cuffs of his black suit jacket. The cut of the suit was flawless. His face, expressionless. Every movement meticulously calculated.
'Why did I leave Smallville for this idiotic party?'
He squared his shoulders, his gaze scanning the faces around him.
'A waste of time. But still… no opportunity should be squandered.'
The entrance hall was a display of opulence. Crystal chandeliers cast light over raised glasses, and the marble floor reflected the steps of the elite as if they were all actors in a play too trivial to deserve applause.
Lex moved through the main corridor. Familiar face, unfamiliar face, cold handshake. Empty conversations floated in the air, scented with expensive cognac and hypocrisy.
In the background, musicians tuned their instruments with barely concealed disdain.
The party unfolded on two levels. The lower hall was filled with businessmen, shareholders, and invited artists. But all eyes gravitated upward—to where he stood.
Bruce Wayne.
The returned heir.
The ghost turned legend.
At the top of the marble staircase, Bruce descended calmly, eyes half-lidded, a faint smile on his lips.
A blonde model on his left.
A brunette on his right.
Their arms looped through his with the ease of those who'd done it dozens of times.
'Hoping this whole charade is worth it is… exhausting.'
Bruce's steps echoed through the hall.
'As Alfred said: smile, pretend. Pretend until it feels real.'
Each person who approached dipped their body slightly. The Wayne name still carried weight, even after years of absence.
Bruce stopped beside an ornate fountain, pretending to listen to the words of one of Wayne Enterprises' partners. The champagne flute in his hand remained untouched.
'I should be patrolling the streets.'
His eyes scanned the room without haste.
'But instead, I'm here. Surrounded by idiots in expensive suits.'
He glanced at the brunette beside him, who laughed for no reason.
'I've lost count of how many times she's called me "impossible." She hasn't figured out I don't even know her name.'
Across the staircase, Lex appeared.
Their eyes met at the same moment.
Bruce remained still.
Lex descended with elegant steps, never breaking eye contact.
The people around them seemed to sense the subtle tension in the air—not visible, but felt.
They approached each other with the ease of those who recognize one another… without ever having met.
"Bruce Wayne."
Lex's voice was dry, effortless.
"Lex Luthor."
Bruce tilted his head slightly. The smile lingered on his lips.
"I see Smallville gave you a good haircut."
Lex kept his face impassive.
"And Gotham hasn't dulled your reputation with women."
Their gazes locked for a moment.
The blonde model laughed, tugging Bruce's arm.
"He's being polite now, but he was a sarcastic nightmare in the car."
Bruce didn't respond to her. He merely took a symbolic sip from his flute, his eyes still fixed on Lex's.
'Ambitious. Like all the executives Alfred warned me to keep at a distance.'
'Superficial. Everything about him screams money. As if wealth were a shield against everything.'
"Come to enjoy the party, or are you on a corporate mission?"
Bruce's question was tossed like a coin into a well.
Lex tilted his head, weighing his response.
"Depends on what the night has to offer. Maybe I'll observe. Maybe I'll enjoy. Maybe I'll buy something."
"I hope you're not talking about me."
Bruce smirked faintly. His eyes didn't smile.
The blonde tapped Bruce's chest with her finger.
"He's already taken. By the city itself."
Bruce looked at her as if only now noticing her presence.
"That's the least fun part of the contract."
Lex maintained his posture.
'He wants to play the fool of Gotham. But behind the act, there's something sharper.'
'That look. That calculated slowness. He listens more than he speaks.'
Bruce stepped to the side, moving away from Lex as if shifting scenes.
"The hall's full of shareholders. Maybe you'll find something worth your trip."
Lex watched Bruce walk off, guided by the two women like an emperor bored with his own empire.
'He's the kind of man who lives by image. By façade. Must think he's fooling everyone.'
'But he's only giving me more reasons not to trust him.'
He grabbed a glass of whiskey from a waiter's tray and swirled the liquid slowly.
'If this city is his… it won't be for long.'
---
Near the windows, Bruce gazed at Gotham through the large panes.
The sky was dark, overcast. The kind of night when criminals come out to breathe.
'I need to end this.'
'This theater. These laughs. These hands wanting to shake mine for their own gain.'
His reflection in the glass showed Lex across the hall, surrounded by executives, trained smiles, and veiled intentions.
'Lex Luthor.'
Bruce kept his eyes on the glass, as if the city beyond were less threatening than the man reflected in it.
'You smile like a salesman and think like a general. You speak little, but weigh every syllable like it's ammunition.'
'I don't trust you. But… I understand you.'
The whiskey in his left hand swirled with gentle movements, ignored.
'You're the kind of shark that walks on dry land. You smell blood before the cut. And the worst part: you don't hide that you're hunting.'
Bruce narrowed his eyes as he saw Lex greet one of Wayne Enterprises' shareholders.
'You're circling my walls like you already have the blueprints.'
'My instincts tell me you're the most interesting person in this room.'
'Not because you're brilliant, but because you hide your blades behind compliments and Italian ties.'
The blonde beside him whispered something in his ear. Bruce didn't respond. He just smiled, out of politeness.
'Maybe one day I'll return the favor, Lex.'
'Visit your Smallville.'
His smile grew fainter, almost imperceptible.
'After all… a businessman like me can't limit himself to Gotham.'
The piano in the background shifted its tone. The party went on. But Bruce no longer heard the music.
Only the echo of his own certainty.
Lex was a threat.
And Gotham… wasn't big enough for two men like them.
---
Lex brought the glass to his lips, the amber liquid sliding precisely against the crystal.
Around him, voices blended in rehearsed compliments, corporate jokes, and laughter that sounded scripted.
He didn't hear any of it.
'No doubt, this was a waste of time.'
He smiled faintly, glancing at the glass for a second before swirling it slowly.
'I should've brought Clark.'
The thought amused him more than he'd like.
'It'd be interesting to see the writer and farmer here. He'd have something to say about the lights, the masks, the metallic taste of power in the air.'
He chuckled softly, so subtle no one around noticed.
The executives laughed at something a tall, heavy man had just said. Lex merely nodded lightly, his eyes never straying from Bruce in the distance.
'And Bruce… I've seen young rich men before.'
'I've seen the ones who try to seem humble, the ones who embrace chaos, the ones who shirk responsibility.'
'But this one…'
'This one plays the part so well he almost convinces. Almost.'
His eyes narrowed slightly as he watched Bruce smile at an older woman in a golden dress like he was her favorite grandson.
'I know when someone's pretending.'
'I can read the movement in the eyes, the lack of intent in the hands, the disinterest masked by charm.'
'But in the end… it's none of my business.'
He took another sip.
'After this party… we'll never see each other again.'
The glass made a faint clink as he set it on a silver tray.
And the smile that followed… was as cold as the city that welcomed him.
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