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♡♦♡ SO WE MEET AGAIN, MY LITTLE HARLEQUIN ♡♦♡
Various clippings and photos of Edward Cullen are covering the maroon-colored walls of Harley Quinn's bedroom. She is sitting in the center of her room on a queen-sized bed with a Hello Kitty blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Sitting in a slouched position, her clothes consists of silky red pajamas. She holds up a tiny remote control to a small television and VCR.
In the VCR is a video recording of the GNN coverage of Prince of Crime's Holiday, a yearly parade started since the peak of Joker's career. It used to be a procession where gangs and crime lords from all around the world unite in Gotham City to celebrate the Joker and his bravery for going up against the government and bringing money to their businesses, but now it's more of a celebration of life and a remembrance for the King of Gotham.
On the screen is the image of a life-size doll of the Joker in all his glory as it stands atop a float of itself. Harley pauses the tape and stares into the Joker's eyes. She smiles, all sorts of memories rushing in all at once — both good and bad — then she presses play. The rest of the news coverage continues. She watches the Joker's infamous green Smylex gas seeping from the floats. The people are in a panic, reaching for money, beaded necklaces and running. Harley laughs silently to herself as she watches.
It's been so long since she's seen the parade. She was just fifteen when she went to her first one. The Joker and her were the talk of town since then. It made their relationship official.
She starts to laugh harder at the sight of people running away from the smoking floats, feeling more and more giddy. Suddenly, she laughing stops as an actor dressed up as Batman comes into the frame, taking the balloons and cutting them loose into the sky.
The news coverage continues, and she watches a man dressed as the Joker perform his act, dangling in pretend helplessly from a ladder above Gotham Cathedral with a stone gargoyle attached to his leg. A clear wire holds him from falling.
At the sight, Harleen starts to frown, and tears begin to roll down her face. The rage inside her starts to swell. She continuously presses rewind and play, switching images of Batman and the Joker. The more she does it, the angrier she gets. Finally, she shrieks and throws the remote control into the television set.
Harley stands up and looks around her room at all the different photos of Edward. Then, her eyes land on a single photo of the Joker. She grabs it, the picture framed still in mint condition from the past three years she's had it, and plants a big kiss on it. She then places the photo down and glances over at her old circus costume, wrapped in plastic and hanging on the closet doorknob. She smiles wickedly. Just in time, her alarm clock rings loudly behind her.
An old sewing kit is open, and loose thread and fabric are lying about. In the shadows, is Harley Quinn. Piece by piece, she is putting on her new and improved costume. Its an old costume, but she has added some touches to it to make it brand new again. It's red and black, and there is a new mask that covers her eyes. The complete outfit gives off a much more sinister approach than the costume she wore during her circus days and is tighter and more revealing than the old villain costumes she wore in her teenage days. She's a woman now, so she has to look like one.
