Dick Grayson Trash

A Terrible Night at The Gala

-Didn't know what to write. Hope this is good-

"Hey, Dickie."

Dick looked up from buckling his seat belt. "Bruce? Why are you picking me up?"

"Alfred is getting ready for tonight." Bruce looked over his shoulder while pulling the car away from the side of the school and turning onto the main road. "are you excited?"

Dick groaned. "I HATE those stupid parties!"

"Dick..."

"Sorry, I don't like those parties." The nine year old muttered, trying not to roll his eyes.

"Right." His foster father agreed. "I know they aren't your favorite, but try to be patient, okay?" Bruce watched his boy in the rearview mirror. "So how was school?"

"Fine." Dick said flatly. It was just fine. No one was too weird, but no one was super nice either. He had to do team sports on gym, but he'd gotten to chill out (and nearly take a nap) in science when they watched an awesome video.  

"Well, maybe you'll have more fun tonight."

Dick groaned, slumping against his seat. "Can't I go to Barbra's instead?" The boy whined.

"Barbra's going to be there." Bruce replied. "Do you have any homework?"

"Just some Math... and English, and I also have my essay, but that still isn't due until Tuesday." Dick reported, kicking his feet back and forth moodily. "Can't I stay in my room tonight? I'll go to bed on time!"

Bruce slammed on the breaks as a car whizzed through the red light in front of them. He caught his breath and continued driving. He'd gotten a lot more anxious about things like that since the moment he'd purchased a booster seat. 

"No, Dick, I want you to socialize, and hiding you away wouldn't exactly help my look." Bruce meant his reputation with Social Services, but he didn't want to make Dick  to remember that.

"Yeah, sure, whatever." Dick pouted. He wishes He could just hang out with his friends (Redheads) and just sit around, playing video games.

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"Wally doesn't have to go to these lame, rich-person parties!"

"Oh, the injustice." Bruce smiled, helping Dick slick back his hair.

Dick stuck out his lower lip a little. "They're all the same! it's all just a bunch of rich people trying to out-rich each other." Dick shuddered. "There are no kids there!"

"There are some kids there."

"They're all rich kids!" Dick whined.

"You're a rich kid."

"It's different!" Dick said angrily, he knew Bruce was winding him up a little. He wasn't a rich kid, he was a kid adopted by a rich guy. "I don't want to go!" He reported for the billionth time that day.

"I know, Dick." Bruce sighed. "Finish getting ready, they'll be here soon."

Still frustrated, Dick put on his suit jacket (Bruce had already done the tie for him), and adjusted his hair in the mirror, slicking it back as flat as he could to look like Bruce. He uncuffed his pant legs to look more grown up, and trudged downstairs

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"Aww! Who's this?" Dick winced as two hands with talon-like  painted fingernails grabbed his face. He had to mentally remind himself not to panic at being suddenly grabbed. "he's so handsome!"