Two Sides of the Same Coin | Young Justice

Chapter Twenty Two | The Save

THE SUN HAD SET by the time I arrived at West Street Bank. As a previously self-proclaimed connoisseur of robbing banks, I'm pretty familiar with the ones throughout Gotham. West Street was the uglier of the few— brown, worn brick with rusted letters on the top and poorly rubbed-off graffiti on the sides.

I parked in an alley across the street, boots sloshing through the muck as I passed a nearby convenience store. I looked up at a TV inside the window, recognizing the face of the dark-haired lady on the screen— Melanie Bramwell, the host of Gotham's favorite trash TV show, A Day in the Life.

I rolled my eyes, about to walk away when something she said piqued my interest.

"He's known by many labels— billionaire, philanthropist, socialite— but who is the real Bruce Wayne?"

I paused, raising an eyebrow. For the first time in her life, Melanie was saying something actually worth listening to. I leaned in closer to the window.

"Despite a 'larger than life' public persona, Bruce Wayne has privately managed to remain a mystery," the woman smirked. "Join me, Melanie Bramwell, for the first-ever in-depth interview with Gotham's most eligible bachelor, next Tuesday at nine, on A Day in the Life."

A corner of my lip turned up.

Oh, I was gonna have fun with this.

* * *

After scaling the side of the bank, I hopped down next to the large black figure that was currently looking out over the city. The only part of him that moved was the side of his cape which was disturbed by the wind I created.

There were a few beats of silence before I spoke.

"So," I began. "Do you happen to have any plans next week... oh, I don't know... say... Tuesday at nine?"

A pause.

"Unfortunately."

I couldn't help the laugh of astonishment that left my mouth as I moved out of the crouch I was in, swinging my legs over the side of the building.

"How the hell did you get roped into that?"

"It's good to show off Bruce Wayne in the public eye."

I rolled my eyes. Lie.

"So who forced you?"

Silence.

I snickered. Probably his butler.

"So, you're seriously gonna let Melanie Bramwell follow you around all day, prod you with her stupid questions— as Melanie Bramwell does— and then let her plaster it all over TV?"

He didn't turn to me, eyes still guarding the cityscape. "That's the idea."

"What if she finds out about your, you know, cough cough, nighttime activities?"

"Bruce Wayne has a lot of nighttime activities that I'm sure will satisfy her instead."

My nose crinkled up in disgust. "Ew."

"Crochet, for example. Improves dexterity." His low voice sounded amused.

I turned my head slowly in his direction, narrowing my eyes. "Shut up."