A Wayne

4- Young Lady

-Martha-

If you listen closely at night you can hear the bats bellow Wayne manor.

When my mother first moved into the house, she hardly got any sleep because of it. But over time it grew to be almost southing. Almost like a fan or white noise. As a child I grew accustom to the sound, unaware of its presence.

I could see in the girls eyes as she exited the house that she had not slept a wink last night. I remember when Thomas's first girlfriend slept over; the next morning she had bags under her eyes. I guess the sound of bats was just something a Wayne had to get used to.

My father always refused my mother's wishes to rid the bats bellow the house. He never gave her any reason for not getting rid of them. My father has always been a curious man. His only reasoning for not exterminating the bats was,

"They aren't causing any harm, why rid of them. What's a little less sleep?"

My mother apparently left Wayne Manor for a few days after such words were spoken. Sadly, to her own disbelief; she eventually needed the ere sound of bats flying to help her fall asleep. I too need it, after all these years. Sometimes, after a long night of partying, I will notice the sound even more; like a fire place crackling or a drink being pored for an old friend. Such a discovery causes drunk me to lay on the hardwood floors for awhile, gently listening to the rustle of wings. Only of course to fall asleep, causing a wicked headache in the morning.

If I was going to attend the Gala, I demanded this to be my end result. Sneaking a martini or two, or 10 was a regular occurrence at such events. Bartenders seem to be slightly more lenient to a girl such as I; for I never lied about my age, but as I discovered a simple presentation of my ID was convincing enough to serve me. All they ever saw was my last name, and they dared not to question it. My Father and Mother never noticed my stumbling anyways, they were always far to busy entertaining the crowd with their precious wealth and charm. Mothers only concern was my over indulgence with the buffet, her main concern was that I would gain weight, therefore I would never 'catch' a proper husband. But can a drunk girl really contain herself around such marvellous food?

Much to my dislike, she has always insisted I be taught proper etiquette. Table placings, formal attire, you name it. I know exactly how to shit during a grand dinner with the Queen. The only upside to them was I knew how to hide my slurs and hiccups. She had practically trained a assassin when it came to these events. I knew how to slip through them, on my own terms.

The dress I was trying on now was a spitting image of ladylike, or my mother. It was floor length as expected, with a slight hint of lace covering the entire gown. The colour complimented my complexion, I'll give my mother that, which was a dimmed down rose hue colour. Overall, the dress made me seem older than I actually was; which might have been my mother goal. She always pressured that the whole family should attend all social events. The complete goal was to present ourselves as Gotham's ideal family.

"Everything is complete now Miss Wayne," my maid said, quite proud of her handy work, "shall I leave you know?"

Everything seemed up to Mothers code.

"Yes, thank you." I nodded at her, surprisingly happy with how I looked. Even if I did not enjoy dressing up; I know someone who will appreciate I did.

"Oh, Miss Wayne?" The maid peaked her head ever so slightly back into my dressing room.

"Yes" I reply, stepping off the small podium.

"Mrs. Wayne says everyone is waiting in the entrance for you...and to please hurry." Her lip curls slightly at the last bit. What a couple of early birds, the lot of them.

"I'm on my way." I quickly grab my clutch, and set my way down the hall. My heals melt into the carpet as stumble my way down the hallway, causing me to do an awkward leaping walk with my dress grasped into my hands.

"Martha!" I can hear mother shout, he patience getting smaller by the second, "We will be late if you do not-"

I stomp my way down on the stairs into the entrance way, where my family waits; each of them already dressed in coats ready to depart for another stupid gala.

"Finally." Her eyes look me up and down, making sure I am perfect for the gala. The group of them all together makes me feel like such an outsider. Each of them so incredibly refined in their suites, except for my mother of course; but nether the less each of them, deep down, frightens me. My father finds refuge discussing business with Thomas, while Andrew and Arthur stand firmly behind Mother and lastly Micheal stands a little too close to the door; perhaps trying to linger away the smell of pot. Such an idiot, but being Mother's baby boy he would never do such a thing.

With me arriving last, I am left to confine in Micheal for the rest of the evening, as always. Being the youngest ones, it seems we are always left each with each other. In my opinion I much rather be discussing business and politics with Father but Mother, as she constantly reminds me, insists I do not bother with such 'frivolous' things, better left to the Wayne men. Sometimes I will eagerly catch Father sort of watching me across the room. Such an inside by always excites me, for this might be the time he asks my opinion, or perhaps just as how I am doing; that would be a start.

"Seems like you were in the forrest Micheal," I quietly tease, "smells like you passed ways with a skunk." His eyes grow wide.

"Yeah...you know that's bull." He slowly pronounces his words, "you want some?" He slightly shows the joint from his pocket, grinning in the process.

"No, I much rather prefer booze on occasions like this."

"Drivers here Mrs. Wayne." A man peaks through the front door, signalling the night is about to begin. Mother nods, gesturing us to the car.

"So who was that lovely girl this morning Micheal?" I give him a nudge on the hip.

"That's Lacie, she's a friend."I roll my eyes, "we were...doing home work late."

"Bullshit Mike, and you know it." The driver opens the door to the car, I bring my voice down.

"She is, she's just as good of a friend as Mr. Hayes is to you" My cheeks grow hot, the car sudden grows far smaller; which is surprise, it being huge and all.

"Shut it Mike or-"

"What's that Micheal, Mr. Hayes is attending tonight?" Mother says hopefully. I glare at Micheal.

"Indeed Mother, in fact I think he will be bringing his entire family as well tonight" He looks right at me. That son of a-

"Oh well that's good, didn't Andrew and Arthur play tennis with his youngest boy?"

"I think so." His voice slowly grows goofier.

"How wonderful, more families like our own need to represent Gotham better." My father hums and nods.

"I can totally agree." he breaths in, almost bursting from laughter.

I elbow him in the stomach, he winces quietly in pain.

Fucking Mike.

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sry for the late up date; hope y'all enjoyed it tho <3