Cygnus (Young Justice Fanfiction)

Thorne's Friend

-Kayo-

I hate Fridays! I work an extra shift because the Iceberg Lounge is always busy. From your average alcoholic to Two-Face himself, the lounge is buzzing with activity. Oswald Cobblepot, better known as Penguin, is my boss and the only family I have left. Yeah, I know, he's my uncle. He gives me all the necessities I need to survive, so he serves his purpose. My father, Penguin's younger brother, was always cruel to him. Their parents, my grandparents always loved my father, leaving lonely Oswald to go through life alone. I guess we were quite similar if I really thought about it. Even with the hatred for his brother, Penguin took me in and became a father figure to me. Now, I have been in his debt ever since. 

I shook my head to clear my thoughts and focused on the task at hand. Penguin gave me an extra storage room in the back of the Iceberg Lounge; therefore, I walked out right into the lounge every morning. It's not much, but it has running water and a heater, which most people in Gotham don't have, so I'm grateful. 

"Hey Kayo, we have tables that need a wipe down and menus," chirps Melody.

"Thanks, Mel. I'm on it!"

Melody is my best friend, she is a little older than me at age 17. She has to suffer as a bartender listening to drunk men and their demands just like me. In a normal world, a girl her age shouldn't even know how to mix drinks, but this is Gotham, nothing here is normal. 

She is so cheery all the time; even though, we both know that this job is a living hell. She never had it easy ever since her father died in a car accident. This cut her family's income in half forcing her and her mom to work non-stop to make up for the death of her father. Most of the girls who work here are 15 or 16, I'm just younger because of the family business.

I grabbed the paper menus and a dishcloth from the kitchen. I ran to each of the tables, wiping them down and placing the worn out "carte du jour" neatly in front of each chair. If you're gonna do something, you better do it right, I guess. I finished setting up all the tables with extra time to spare. We never put out eating utensils because the last time we did a fight broke out and the silverware went flying. Although, taking away the silverware doesn't stop the occasional brawl.

I looked at the big clock in the middle of the arctic-themed room. Nine-thirty, the clock reads. I brace myself as the bouncer slowly lets people into the lounge. The Iceberg Lounge always attracts Gotham's worst, but Penguin insists that the club is for Gotham's elite few. As the music starts to play, the dance floor begins to glow. People of all ages are drawn to the floor like flies to a light in the dark.

"My table is ready to order!" yells a deep voice. 

I dash to the table where the demanding voice comes from. I see a big man sitting at the biggest booth surrounded by three other big men dressed in suits. Rupert Thorne, of course, he always sits at table 46 acting like he owns the place. He pulls the rug out from under the poor and climbs his way to the top of the food chain. He makes me sick.

"Your usual, sir?" I say as politely as I possibly can. Thorne may be a jerk, but you do not want to be on his list.

"Yes, and get a drink for my friend here, something strong," he commands and nods his head towards another man that I haven't seen before sitting across the table. I didn't notice him when I walked up. He is wearing a suit, but you can tell his act is fake. His brown eyes are not greedy like Thorne's, but Gotham can corrupt even good people. I learned to read people's faces and emotions from an old friend...

"Now!" Thorne screamed and I flinched back before I could finish my thought.

"Of course, coming right up sir," I squeaked and scampered to the bar.

"Hey Mel, I need Thorne's usual and a shot of something strong!" I yelled over the music.

"Got it!" she practically screams back. Her crazed eyes are focused on mixing two drinks behind the bar at once while talking to some drunk college kid. I took more orders from other tables, but Thorne's table and his strange new "friend" kept catching my eye. 

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