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family gatherings are always... awkward. aurelia was well aware that her stepfather didn't quite appreciate her presence. not to mention her brother was literally harvey "two-face" dent. and almost everyone was aware of their family drama, from her mother's affair to her illegitimacy. it was... embarrassing, to say the least. but they smiled like none of it mattered.
this time was for new years. it was a high-class event with bottles of champagne and fancy charcuterie boards. not that it really mattered; aurelia wasn't old enough to drink, and she'd grown to care a lot about her image since moving back to gotham. it was different than her occasional visits to gotham in her youth; this time she was a permanent addition to the city.
aurelia sits near her mother at the table. harvey was no place to be seen. her mother swore he'd been invited. she wasn't so sure herself.
"so, lia," the older woman smiles warmly, but it only sends a shiver down her spine. all of the eyes at the table shift to her. she hated that. her mother doesn't seem to notice, and if she does, she doesn't care. "how's school?"
"it's... fine," she answers, careful, measured. "i have A's in all of my classes."
"your classes... which ones are you taking?" mrs. dent prompts further.
"oh- um- american lit., african american lit., shakespeare's later plays, and digital composing."
"sounds like a lot of reading," her mother says, teasing.
"definitely," aurelia plays along, giving her mother a tired smile, shoulders sagging theatrically, warranting a laugh from the table.
there's a moment of silence between them. it's tense. they continue their own conversations, separate from one another. aurelia got on well with most of her family, but she knew they were examining her, her features, most of none of which she shared with her dear old mother. it was also unfortunately public information that's aurelia wasn't in contact with her dear old father either. she wasn't sure how that'd gotten out, but she knew they'd whispered about it.
it was hard not to think about everything as part of a game. everything felt like a play until she finally returned home to her apartment, until she washed the makeup from her face, until she was in her own comfortable clothes. nothing was more comforting than crawling into bed with her plush animals and hide under the blankets until the mental exhaustion lulled her to sleep.
it was february 14th, a saturday. a charity gala was not how aurelia had planned to spend her weekend, but... what was the worst that could happen? the invitation had come via email from bruce wayne himself. it only seemed appropriate that she was invited, considering she was a recipient of his endless charity work.
she was surprised at all of the offers that came after her acceptance: a ride to the manor, money for a new dress (or whatever she chose to wear; bruce had become a bit more progressive in his later years), whatever she wanted. it was a bit overwhelming. though, she had taken him up on his offer of a ride. she didn't particularly want to walk there.
she'd decided on a pale pink cocktail dress. it was a cold february in gotham, so she'd also decided on a pair of white tights and a white turtleneck to pair with it. as much as she knew she'd regret it, she also chose to wear a pair of white mary janes she kept in her closet; they weren't very comfortable, but they were cute. cute was exactly what she was going for.
the gala itself was loud and energetic, the lights dim and romantic. she enjoyed watching the people dance, the atmosphere warm and fun. she herself stands off to the side, a flute of sparkling grape juice in her right hand; her cane is gripped in her left. that was, until a man, who seemed to be in quite a rush, bumped into her. before she can comprehend, she's on the floor, a shattered glass beneath her palm, dress wet. her brows furrow.
"hey-"
"watch where you're going," the man interrupts.
"hey, you watch where you're going!" she retorts, eyes raising to the man. oh. oh. it was library guy. she'd recognize that white streak in his bangs among the mess of black hair anywhere, that muscular build. her green eyes widen. it's clear: recognition. "oh- um- i'm-"
"you're sorry?" library guy mocks, a brow quirked at her.
aurelia's face burns with embarrassment, and her brows knit again. asshole, she thinks. part of her felt she owed him. after all, he'd lent her his jacket, and they'd never even spoken before. but then again, he was being such a dick!
"...are you just going to stand there?" she frowns. "you knocked me over, and you're not even gonna help me up? who're you running from anyway?"
library guy looks a little annoyed for a moment, staring down at her. he offers her his hand, clearly begrudging. aurelia takes it, and he pulls her to stand. she stumbles slightly, and he steadies her.
"could you...?" she gestures to her fallen cane, and he picks it up, handing it to her. "thanks."
"yeah, well..." he shrugs nonchalantly.
"aurelia," she offers her hand.
he eyes her hand suspiciously before taking it, shaking it gingerly. "jason."
dennis picks up his phone as it rings, the ringtone a cat piano rendition of the swan theme from swan lake. that could only mean one thing: his online friend, aurelia, was calling.
the two had met nearly a year ago online, and they were as thick as thieves in what seemed like an instant.
he picks up: "yo."
"DENNIS," aurelia practically squeals into the phone, rolling across her bed dramatically before sitting up against the pillows. "oh my goodness."
"...you good?" he laughs, concerned.
"i'm so good!"
"did your gala go that well?"
"like you wouldn't believe!" aurelia replies, smiling so widely it almost hurts. her face is warm with excitement. "i met a guy."
"a guy? what guy?" dennis quirks a brow at his friend. "i thought you had the hots for that guy from the library?"
"that's just it! it's the same guy! and guess what!"
"...what?"
"HE'S BRUCE WAYNE'S SON."
dennis spits out his nonexistent drink, sputtering. "he's what?!"
aurelia can't help but giggle. "i know!"
the call carries on for about an hour, aurelia first recounting their not-so-meet-cute and then gushing about how polite and well-read he was. she sits against her pillows, curling her blonde hair around her fingers as she speaks.
"so, how was your night?" she prompts curiously.
"it was... fine," dennis answers, glancing anxiously towards his closet.
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