Eyes open suddenly. A pair of nostrils flare at the stale motes floating in the dark. Chilling drops of heat slide away from french beige pores to soak into the cotton encasing of a spongy mattress below. The incessant buzz of silence reassures a pair of alert ears. Nothing lurks nearby tonight.
The boy leans upward, more sweat rolling off his body from the change of orientation. A cursory glance around the bedroom confirms its vacancy. No shadows lurked in any corners, nor obstructed the view of the singular trophy upon his window sill - an award from a junior karate competition with the name “WAYNE” etched onto its gold plated base. He inhales through the nose until his lungs stretch his rib cage. It takes a moment to let that air steady within him. When the moment is over, it rushes back out the same path it entered from while the rest of his body shudders. The red-glow of a clock on the opposite side of the room reveals the time - five thirty-five in the morning.
That recurring dream had plagued him for another night. The weirdest sort of dream, where it should be pleasant and yet his physical reaction was the same as a severe nightmare. Cold sweats, the sudden waking, and physical trembling accompanied this subconscious vision every time. It was like a flu of the mind, save for the fact that the dream itself was rather reassuring. It helped knowing that it wasn’t all a dream.
The part Wayne did resent, however, came in that brief space between the dream and waking. The memory of it never stuck. There was something in there. Some strong force that pulled his mind towards itself. It called to him from that unknowable place. Made its plans with him. Shared its secrets. The teen was certain that he met with it often. But whatever conversations occurred there - whatever face he spoke to - stayed there as well. That was the real annoyance; knowing and not, simultaneously. A built-in paradox.
This had become a bit of a routine, by now. And as per routine, the boy took a few more breaths to collect his senses before dragging himself out of bed. He thoughtlessly slipped his feet into a pair of grey cleaning slippers - which he enjoyed for the way they kept his steps dry - and meandered out of the still lightless bedroom.
The tan skinned teen squinted preemptively as he flicked a wall switch near the bathroom door. A stinging light bounced off white painted and tiled walls, as well as the slate grey of the floor stones. He shut the door behind him and turned the interior lock on the door knob, consciously listening for the tell-tale click to ensure the door continued to function. He stripped himself quickly, and sat upon the porcelain throne with the sound of groggy exertion. One hand propped up his cranium as he slumped forwards while also serving to better shield his eyes from the burn of fluorescent radiation. The other very casually worked the water knobs of the bathtub beside him. A two-thirds turn of heat, a half turn of cold. It was as much preference as it was pure ritual.
Wayne bathed for roughly an hour. He took his time. The sensation of warm water evaporating on his skin was something he took immense joy in, even if his face appeared to be its placid norm. Most of the actual bathing process was saved until the end, wherein he would hurriedly apply various sudsing solutions before running himself under the shower head. He dried off quickly, slipped the dark green basketball shorts he slept in back on, equipped his slippers once more, and left.
He returned to his own room, stepping towards the closet on the opposing side of the same wall. On any other day, his path would have instead led him to sit at his desk, scrolling through news on the internet. It kept him up to date on a wide variety of events that were crucial to his current plans. But today, doing so was entirely unnecessary. Machinations were in motion, and the day’s main affair would begin a long chain of more to come.
A myriad of t-shirts and other such casual wear were swept aside. Today’s attire needed to be special. It needed to be professional. A black button-up with a rather stiff collar was the first item of Wayne’s choosing. It was followed by a matched set of slacks and a sport coat, both in stone grey. For color, he adorned himself with a purple bolo tie affixed with a silver moth clasp - a symbol of personal interest. Black dress socks wormed their ways into grey monk strap shoes that Wayne had purchased purely for this occasion. Every ounce of Christmas money from the prior year plus some extensive lawn mowing had gone towards them. With the addition of a black belt around his waist, the teen was fully - if not overly - dressed for his moment of truth.
He inspected himself in the standing mirror to the left of the closet door rather proudly. Running his fingers through a curly pompadour, he carefully combed it until the overhanging ends hung just above his left eyebrow, obscuring that entire quarter of his face with shining blackness. Slate grey eyes gazed into their own reflection with determination. Wayne looked once more towards the clock. It boldly displayed seven-o’-nine A.M. Still plenty of time to work in a light breakfast. He gathered his wallet and a brand new Nokia E66 before departing from his bedroom once more.
“Oh! G’morning”, said a gravelly older voice as Wayne entered the living room on his way to the conjoined kitchen.
Without looking to confirm, the boy already knew who to expect. Sitting at the head of the dining table, his back towards the interior of the kitchen, was a salmon-skinned adult man. Stray drops of coffee slowly soaked into his greying honey-blonde goatee - the only hair on his head besides his matching eyebrows. He wore a forest green polo shirt with thick lime stripes that ran vertically along it, as well as a pair of blue jeans and some charcoal sneakers. His silver rimmed glasses reflected the light of his laptop monitor. He seemed to be reading the morning news as well from the Daily Planet website, likely in anticipation for his son’s fast approaching outing.
“Sleep okay, kiddo?”
Wayne proceeded past his father into the kitchen proper. He opened a cabinet beside the refrigerator to retrieve a box of Cheer-Os - what seemed to be this reality’s equivalent to Cheerios.
“Eh, same as ever”, he replied in tandem.
Stepping to the opposite counter, Wayne opened another cabinet door and excavated a ceramic bowl from within. His father glanced over his shoulder to continue the conversation.
“Something wrong? Nervous about today?”
The feelings welling within the boy were far from nervousness. Far from anxiety. It was something closer to eagerness, zeal, or even excitement. None of this showed on his face, of course. It remained in the same frozen position it always did, whether he wanted it that way or not. What minimal movements he was allowed could be found almost exclusively within his brow and eyes. In this moment, he raised both eyebrows in an attempt to soften his expression. It was all he could do to try to placate this inquisition. But being viewable only from the side, it wasn’t particularly effective on his father.
“Far from it, dad. Been waiting for this day for a long, long time.”
Wayne had always kept a sharp eye on the goings-on of the various costumed individuals the world over. Any information he could come across was taken quite seriously. He knew how to navigate between the likely hearsay and the unreasonable rumors - such as the one making the rounds just last month about two ice-themed villains, Mister Freeze and Killer Frost, being a couple after a singular team up. Neither one’s disposition gave much room for interpersonal affection, regardless of similarities. Conversely, he knew all too well that many of the accusations thrown at Hugo Strange, the current director of the infamous Arkham Asylum in North Gotham, were true. Between them, he certainly preferred a similarly named doctor over this world’s professor - not that there was any choice in who was and who wasn’t.
Ah, but the opportunity! It was truly a godsend. The world famous Lexcorp had decided to open up a summer internship program for high school students. A golden opportunity to inch closer to the action as it was happening. Wayne had sent something more akin to a dissertation of the CEO’s greatness than a cover letter, but it worked well enough to get him into the final selection. The timing couldn’t be better, either. Mr. Luthor had only recently started his secret spat with Metropolis’ favorite man in tights. The evidence? Kryptonite’s effects on the last son of Krypton had only recently been uncovered. All he had to do was emphasize his own worth to the narcissistic billionaire, and his destiny would be set.
Wayne had stopped his commentary as he poured some cereal into the bowl, his focus firmly on the sound of each piece rushing past its peers and clinking against the smooth surface of their new container. Misinterpreting the silence, his father continued in the pause between.
“Well, you know”, the father began in reassuring tone.
The boy's ears quickly shifted their attention. This was not the day to hear what he knew would follow. Nothing was the matter. Believe in me for once.
“You can talk to me if there’s ever anything wrong, bud.”
There it was. The line he hated hearing the most. In the all too frequent moments in which it reared its empty head, Wayne considered his facial dysfunction to be a blessing. How he loathed those words. Two lifetimes over, he would damn their utterance by those incapable of following through - more, if he could. The way it stirred his blood to irrationality so easily was truly some kind of cosmic phenomena. One lifetime of hearing those words the same way from the same face for decades was already too much. But to do it again? No. No no no. His eyes surged with red.
Then came a tug against his growing emotional hurricane. Some invisible, subduing hand came to rest on his shoulder once again. It happened often when the boy’s emotions neared a bursting point. An influence from that same place between dreams and waking. It wound him down, disrupting the torrent with intruding fingers. And then, Wayne was calm. He felt ridiculous for being riled up so easily. Especially by this every time.
“Yep. I know”, was all Wayne could reasonably reply as he closed the cereal box.
He proceeded to eat while humoring his father’s chatter. Brief discussions of the latest meta-human incidents in the city, recurring general warnings to avoid this or steer clear of there, and the age-old pep talk about how proud the man was of his son’s motivation. How everything would surely go fine for the boy. Of everything said, that was the single thing Wayne actually agreed with.
Time was beginning to run short, however. On a whim, the teen checked his phone to find that another forty minutes had passed. Hurrying to finish his meal, he cleaned up after himself and said his goodbyes to begin his walk to the train station. It was about seven blocks away. Far enough to consider alternative travel methods, but Wayne didn’t want to draw attention to himself quite so soon. Not until long after everything was underway. An ace in the sleeve was a last resort, as it should be. No, he walked the distance like anyone else would. It took nearly half an hour, even at power walking speed, but that was fine.
After an uneventful train ride, Wayne emerged from the subway exit out onto the bustling streets of Metropolis, New York. Now began the most difficult portion of his journey. His destination wasn’t far, but still required deft crowd navigation skills and enough will to block out the world around himself. At the very least, he must do so for the next several blocks.
The rhythmic sounds of a quiet subway car, while loud, were easy to dispel into the background of his mind. The chaos of these city streets was another matter entirely. Yelling every which way, cars blaring their horns for miles, perpetual construction noise, and the cries of animals just as bothered as he was all played into a pervasive overstimulation. The stress from navigating crossways with belligerent drivers and fellow pedestrians on all sides only added to this. Wayne wanted to scream. He wished he could do so without drawing even the slightest glance. By the time he neared the threshold that held his filter in place, he had rounded the final corner.
In respite, Wayne stopped to admire the building he was about to enter. A tall tower that overlooked the urban jungle. Though the architecture was generally brutalist with its browned concrete walls, it deviated from that norm with postmodern roundness upon the upper segments. The large, mint green logo held a glint of sunlight, as did the red letters below them which read “LEXCORP”.
Far below this flagrant display of corporatism, the doors of the ground floor waited before him. There was a mild amount of foot traffic in and out of the pair of darkened glass doors. Wayne assumed many of the equally well-dressed youths were there for the same reason he was. Other finalists. His bad habit of mentally tagging those around him slipped out quite easily.
A red headed male, tall and lanky with the office standard black suit and no tie. He seemed exceptionally nervous from all the sweat. Or maybe he ran there?
A fairly tan girl with black hair, on the stockier side. He guessed that she might be five-foot-five or so. Purple blazer and black skirt - almost encroaching upon a local journalist’s fashion sense. Were it not for the singular bead of sweat on her temple, he’d have guessed she was particularly confident. She was, presumably, of the “fake it ‘til you make it” school of thought.
Quite a few token blonde boys, both in navy suits. From behind, you could barely tell which was which if one wasn’t a few inches taller. Bland, but potentially good poster boys.
The last one to enter as Wayne grew bored stood out significantly. Rather than a suit, she wore a letterman jacket of black and red. Though he made a point not to leer, he was surprised by the form-fitting black pants this dark brunette had decided to arrive in as well. Her hair was up in a high ponytail, with slightly visible glasses on her peach face. Was it true? Could his goal already be that close to realization? To think the fates would hand him not one encounter, but two in the same moment! The sparks of excitement crackled behind his stony eyes.
There was still the chance he could be wrong. The boy had faced a rather embarrassing moment a few years back, in fact. Somehow, he had managed to confuse one Timothy Drake with another. Upon overhearing a postal worker greet the resident of a home about seven houses away from his own, he had jumped to conclusions. Imagine his surprise when, as he attempted to make contact, the young boy was faced with a man well into his fifties rather than a person of similar age. If it were possible, his face would have contorted into a mess of embarrassment. Likewise, it was best to be cautious now.
Wayne entered the building not too long after spotting this new target of investigation, but kept his distance initially. It helped that he went through many of the early formalities with a lax demeanor, such as chatting with the front desk attendant while wearing what little of a smile he could manage. The woman commented how Wayne gave off a similar feeling to Lex, intending this to be a compliment. A decent sign in his favor.
He continued on, taking the elevators up with various employees surrounding him quickly as they rushed to their various end points. There was plenty of chatter between them, but nothing particularly interesting to Wayne. Tax reports, after-work plans and the like were all that were mentioned. The dull musings of corporate pawns.
Upon reaching the topmost floor, Wayne was one of three remaining occupants. One was a darker skinned black boy in the office standard. The other, a similarly toned black girl in all red. No one he particularly recognized, so he ignored them beyond what few pleasantries they had initiated.
He followed behind the pair as they all walked towards the mostly occupied row of chairs down the long hall. He guessed there might have been about twenty chairs total, with the majority of the other hopefuls sitting in a nice row, one after another. There were a few deviancies, of course. One of the blonde boys from earlier - lord knows Wayne couldn’t tell which - and a pale, black haired boy in tan tweed stood shoulder to shoulder, chatting up a particularly pretty auburn haired girl in light blue sitting somewhere around the middle of the line. Their intentions couldn’t be more obvious, nor could the girl’s lack of true interest. She humored the attention, all the same. Good for her, Wayne supposed. String the weak along and drag them out of the running.
The irony only dawned on him once he shifted his focus back to the brunette from before. He supposed he was planning to do something similar, wasn’t he? There were vastly differing motives, of course, but the girl was unlikely to know that off-hand. Wayne rethought his strategy as he walked towards the queue. He noted that the girl had chosen to take the second closest seat to the elevator, leaving a three seat gap between herself and the rest of the group. Wayne looked between the greater group and the empty space a couple times. The best option seemed to be to take his place in the center of that gap - one seat away from either of the next people. Or rather; he would stand there, back to the wall and hands in his pants pockets while he waited.
Wayne glanced once more at the girl, noting her attire again at a closer distance. She sat with her legs crossed tightly, navel gazing as her thumbs worked away at her flip phone’s keys. She certainly appeared to like who he believed her to be. Wayne looked carefully at her hair as well. While he wasn’t certain, he could swear he saw a few bright blonde hairs at the edges of the overall chestnut color. If only he had telescopic vision. Confirming his suspicions would be so much easier that way.
With nothing else of interest to inspect, and not wanting to draw too much ire from staring, Wayne turned away from his current person of interest. Instead, he gazed upward into the high wall, and receded into his own thoughts to help pass the time. His head listed to the left slightly as his focus drifted. He ran through his main objectives for the day again; What to say to get through the primary phase of the interview, how to segway into more dubious discussion, and more. That was, after all, the reason he was really here. To worm his way as close to the CEO’s front line as possible.
This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Just as he was beginning the internal rehearsal of his final ploy, a chipper and familiar voice called for his attention.
“Hey, guy? You know you can sit down, right?”
Wayne blinked back into the external world, looking to his immediate right. The girl was looking up at him with half a grin and one raised brow. An expression of confused amusement. She was leaning towards him as well, likely trying to keep her voice down while getting his attention. It was now far easier to see the silvery blue of her irises and the bright red of her lipstick. Shifting his weight off his shoulders so that the whole of his back was against the wall, the boy responded politely.
“Apologies if it seems weird. Standing helps me stay awake while I wait.”
“Ah”, she responded while leaning to the other side. “I know what you mean. Waiting is such a drag.”
A smirk emerged on the boy’s face. The girl rested her cheek in her right palm. Wayne took the opportunity to sit in the chair finally, outstretching his closest hand over the empty seat between them after he had gotten comfortable. The girl lazily looked over at his face, then the inviting hand as he addressed her formally.
“I’m Wayne, by the way. Wayne Tipton.”
With a closed smile of her own, the girl leaned towards Wayne again. She took his hand in her own and led the handshake with just a touch of oomph to it. To her surprise, Wayne didn’t even flinch, which impressed her. He would have, if he could.
“I’m Kara. Kara, uh…”
She hesitated as she decided what last name to run with. Her eyes darted from right to left. With nothing coming to mind for once, she eventually just shrugged.
“Kent. Kara Kent. You, um, might’ve heard about my cousin at the Planet?”
“Ah, yes. The go-getting Clark Kent. I have certainly read the name before”, Wayne confirmed with a glint in his eye. Affirmation; he had hit the mark this time.
Ending the handshake, the two returned to comfortable sitting positions. In the background, a few more applicants had been called into the large room on the opposite wall, including the auburn haired girl from before, much to the boys’ mutual chagrin. Wayne, meanwhile, decided to initiate the next topic himself.
“So, what made you interested in applying for this? I would have figured working with your cousin would be the more, mmh… Obvious path. Not into journalism?”
By the look on her face, Kara was not prepared for that question so soon. Averting her vision as she spoke, she scoured through her mind to validate her own clearly fraudulent claim.
“Oh! Uuuh, yeah! Yeah- I would’ve done that, but uh… They’d already recruited their interns for the summer! Bummer, right?”
The “brunette” laughed awkwardly. To her credit, that latter detail wasn’t a lie. That deadline had indeed come and gone. Wayne had actually considered that angle for his plan, as well. However, after considering the workload and likelihood of achieving his ends while under the boy scout’s watchful eye, he concluded that his odds of success were worse than buying a lottery ticket. Clark was a stickler for rules and civilian safety. Without pulling his ace early, there was no way the man would have humored him.
“Fair, fair”, Wayne replied. “Bet it would’ve been nice to have that safety net there. People are less inclined to question the relative of one of their best. Would certainly make blending in much smoother.”
The girl seemed confused by Wayne’s last two statements. Nothing he said was technically wrong, but the manner in which he said them - and the fact that he said them at all - raised a flag at the forefront of her mind. Was it just social ineptitude? Kara needed to play it safe from here on out; of that, she was certain.
“Y-yeah”, she interjected with drawn out caution. “How about you, though? What got you interested in, you know, this gig?”
Wayne thought for a few moments about what specifically to say. His eyes seemed to lazily follow some invisible curving path, slowly turning left then right then left again before snapping back to meet Kara’s own gaze.
“There aren’t many opportunities to jump into the deep end of… Certain proverbial pools, let’s say. This is one of those rarities, so I’m catching it while I can.”
Wayne attempted to give some semblance of a smile to accompany his statement. He wasn’t sure if it did much to lighten the implications his vagueness might have presented, or reinforced them instead. He hoped it didn’t make him seem too sinister, at the very least. He was far too under dressed for that role. To his credit, Kara had no idea what to make of any of it.
“Huh”, was all she managed to respond with. A change in direction seemed most appropriate to her.
“So ‘re you from around Metropolis then? I can’t imagine you’re coming in from too far away, right? Those subway trains are something else…”
Kara stuck her tongue out and winced. A noise of exaggerated disgust emanated from her throat while she pulled her limbs inward with a shudder. Wayne’s smirk grew another centimeter, a puff of air escaping his nostrils in place of a laugh. The color in his eyes flickered.
“I live about an hour and a half out, actually. Know what you mean about the subway though; It’s always a toss up on whether you’ll see something crazy. Or disgusting… Or both.”
Kara stifled a snort as Wayne continued.
“I’m also like… About 30 minutes from Gotham, driving. Near the Verdant Acres area, if you know that.”
“Oooh, so you’re near that big swamp then!”
“Kinda’. Just south of it.”
“In the suburbs?”
“Yeah - it’s no Smallville, to be sure, but at least it’s still not Gotham.”
Another flag. Now Kara was certain something was amiss. She made no attempt to hide her growing animosity as she further leaned away from the boy, the beginnings of a frown on her face. Wayne, in turn, made no attempt to cover that he was unveiling what should be privileged information. Part of him was curious what the girl would do with the revelation. Assuredly nothing now, but it’d make for some reliable bait in the future. He wondered if she’d tell her cousin; tell him that some strange boy trying to get into Mr. Luthor’s pocket had some yet stranger awareness of them. Of their identities. Wayne wondered if the two would spin their wheels trying to deduce how and why. If they’d make a house call with some utterly bizarre pretext relating to the Daily Planet’s next release. Now that would be a sight.
“Mr. Tipton?”
Before either one could make another move, a voice familiar to both teens called out from the doorway. The woman speaking was fairly tall. Her charcoal pea coat was just short enough to emphasize the length of her legs without going too far. It was also clearly tailored to draw attention to the woman’s hourglass frame just as much as it exaggerated the width of her shoulders. She wore a pair of matching gloves, short boots, and chauffeur’s cap. It was difficult for Wayne to tell the exact color of the tights she wore, but he guessed they were grey. The overall dark coloration of her uniform made the paleness of her pink skin stand out that much more. She wore no name tag - not that it was necessary. Light ash brown strands of tied-back hair could be seen beneath her hat. Presumably, it was pulled into a bun underneath. The stern woman’s hazel eyes scanned the room for a reaction, a rose vale painted frown on her lips. She scrunched her already scowling brow further together as she yelled out once more.
“Mister Wayne D. Tipton! Are you here?”
“Just a second, ma’am”, Wayne responded with a raised hand. He turned back to Kara as he rose from the chair. Hands back in his pockets, he put on his friendliest smile - which most would perceive as a sneer - and gave his farewell.
“It was wonderful meeting you, Kara. If all goes right, you’ll be seeing me a lot more often. Your cousin, too. Good luck.”
The girl was left speechless as the tan boy walked towards the tall, red doors. The woman that had called for him stepped just enough out of the way for Wayne to enter with a careful sidestep past her. She shot Kara a curious yet guarded look as she shut the door behind the both of them and followed the boy towards the interior of the room.
The office itself was as expected; a dark red ceiling and carpet, to add a sense of foreboding for guests. A rather simple, U-shaped desk made of dark oak sat centered near the back of the room. A computer system with an ellipsoid monitor sat on the right side of the desk, from the boy’s perspective. On the left, a small stack of black and brown binders - three in total - as well as some sand colored plastic trays for documents. In front, a pair of blue sofa chairs sat with a small table between them. Wide and tall glass windows spanned the height of the room behind the desk, overlooking the north side of Metropolis in its entirety. Wayne turned to his right, admiring the rather literal shark tank that occupied half the room’s wall space. The opposite and remaining walls were covered in what appeared to be huge slabs of black, shimmering granite.
Sitting behind the desk, a lone man wrote leisurely on some paper. As Wayne drew closer, he could see that the businessman was writing notes about the prior applicant. It didn’t look like much was written before the pen in his hand - the hand being of similar skin tone to Wayne’s own - was placed back upon the desktop. Clasping his fingers together, the adult sat upright in his black leather chair. The incoming light from the windows bounced off the edges of his bald scalp and the large golden ring worn on the middle finger of his right hand. Black irises stared into Wayne’s own, reading the boy’s face and mannerisms as he approached. Neither blinked in these few seconds of silence. With an intrigued smile, the man gestured for him to take a seat.
“Welcome, Mr. Tipton. Please; have a seat and we can begin.”
“With due respect”, Wayne began, giving a small bow. “I prefer to stand. Keeps the brain alert. Better blood flow. That aside, it’s nice to finally meet the Lex Luthor in person.”
Lex cocked an eyebrow, but the smile remained. A good sign.
“Very well”, Mr. Luthor continued. He opened up one of the coffee brown file folders that were stacked in front of him. It was clearly marked with a bold, black “W. TIPTON” written in permanent marker on the extruding tab. Taking it into a single hand as he read, the executive leaned back into the cushions of his chair.
“Current age of fourteen. Residing in North Plainview, New Jersey with only your father, and attending a locally named high school. No stated extracurriculars… A rather average GPA, but consistently high test scores. Hm.”
Luthor looked up from the file to observe the boy’s reaction to his statistical dressing down. Wayne continued to stare back, not a muscle out of place. Dropping the dossier back onto the pile of its peers, the man leaned onto the desk once more.
“In that case, let’s cut to the chase, shall we? What made you take interest in Lexcorp’s Junior Entrepreneur Program? I’d like to hear it in your own words.”
Wayne raised a brow of his own. His smirk maintained.
“I could sell you some of the usual schlock”, he began boldly. Though he couldn’t see it from where she was standing, the woman that had walked him inside went wide-eyed at this opener. Mr. Luthor remained composed.
“I could tell you that I think this would be a great way to learn the intricacies of a major corporation. I could lie about wanting to get a jump start on entering the sphere of big business. I could even try to butter you up with something like ‘wanting to learn from the greatest business leader in the world’ - as though I actually cared about that.”
That last part managed to wipe the smile off the CEO. Some points had been lost, but Wayne knew he had Mr. Luthor’s attention. That was all he needed.
“I could do all that. But that would be bullshit, and we both know it. So I’ll cut to my proposition: I want to assist your… Other ventures.”
Now Mr. Luthor was scowling. The teen could feel a growing aggression radiating off of the woman behind him as well.
“I assure you”, Mr. Luthor interrupted as he leaned back in his chair, head tilted downwards to intensify his glare. “I have no idea what ‘other ventures’ you’re talking about, nor do I welcome these insinuations.”
While it certainly wasn’t the best reaction, it was also nothing outside of Wayne’s expectations. Lex Luthor was a prideful man, and Wayne had essentially stomped all over one of his publicity stunts as though it were a joke. Some part of him admitted that was precisely what this program was to him - a cover. Still, now was the time to reel the shark in. His only chance at it, to boot.
“Insinuations? Oh no, no. Let me be perfectly clear-”
Wayne clasped his hands behind his back and walked around the desk to look out one of the windows. In the faint reflection, he could see the woman standing in a wide stance, arms angled out and fists clenched tight. Mr. Luthor himself had swiveled his chair to keep the boy well within his sight, his hands subtly resting upon a security buzzer near his computer. Wayne paid them no mind.
“What I want is to aid your fight against Superman. Very specifically.”
The two adults were taken aback. While there was no doubt that a public rivalry had formed between the billionaire and the man of steel, thus far no incidents had been traced back to them. Mr. Luthor had been particularly careful to outsource his more dubious enterprises to others. He maintained a clean paper trail. How could this boy - this random civilian - have even caught wind of it? Even more bizarrely; why did he want to join in?
“You have my attention”, Mr. Luthor finally said, breaking a brief silence. Wayne turned to face him. The smugness of the boy’s expression twisted the hook.
“Glad to hear it. Now, I’m sure you’re well aware of the core weakness that Superman possesses. Namely his affliction of Green Kryptonite.”
“Yes, yes. Every two-bit crook in Metropolis knows of the alien’s fear for green rocks. What about it?”
“Simple. There are other forms of Kryptonite that have a wide array of effects on Kryptonians, and potentially other lifeforms as well.”
Mr. Luthor shot his attendant a curious look. The attendant responded with a stupefied face of her own and shrugged. Both turned back to the boy, who was returning to his starting position in front of the desk, awaiting more exposition.
“I can tell you’re interested”, Wayne spurred on. “And to answer your foremost question: there is a good chance that one of them could, in fact, give you powers to battle the man in blue on equal terms. One way or another.”
“And how do you propose we acquire these… Variants, exactly”, Mr. Luthor retorted. “While the ‘green kind’ isn’t exactly in short supply at the moment, it’s still troublesome to acquire enough of it to work with. I can only assume these other forms would be increasingly more rare?”
“An astute observation, sir. And I do have the answer for you.”
With this, Wayne bent forward. He placed both palms atop the arms of the chair previously offered to him, and slowly lowered himself down upon the cushion. One leg rose and bent to lay over the knee of the other. He leaned back confidently, looking down his nose at Lex. His grey eyes narrowed as he leered at the man before him. Lex had already realized his gross underestimation of this applicant, but it was far too late. The shark was trapped in the net.
“Hire me, and that information - plus so much more - is yours.”
◅◁◇▷▻
Kara sat impatiently in the now much less occupied hall. She bounced the foot of her top crossed leg rapidly, trying her best to hold back the force of the act. Shaking the entire building would certainly set off extra suspicion, and there was already a serious x-factor to consider.
She found it strange how quickly she had gone from utterly bored to deeply anxious from just one random conversation. She found it irritating that despite her heightened senses, Lex’s office was exceptionally well treated for sound. The most she could hear was effectively a whisper of the conversation within. Some parts were easier to interpret than others; like that the boy had managed to irritate his prospective employer halfway in. How that had managed to transition into a boisterous laugh from Lex remained a mystery. Shortly thereafter, two pairs of footsteps began to approach the door again. The interview must be over.
Wayne reemerged from the office, smirking as he had been when he first entered the room. There was a bit more confidence in his posture now. His chest was raised slightly, and his head leaned arrogantly towards one side. Though his pseudo-bangs now obscured his left eye completely, he still confidently made eye contact with a visibly uneasy Kara. She rose sharply from her seat and took two steps forward as Wayne approached her on his own. The attendant holding the door stepped out as if to relay a message, but stopped to overhear whatever conversation was taking place.
“Good news”, Wayne gloated to the bespectacled girl. “You’ll definitely be seeing more of me around - on the clock or otherwise.”
Kara blinked her eyes wider. Her mouth sat slightly agape as she processed the numerous implications of this. Some of the remaining applicants had begun to listen in, a sense of dread beginning to grow over them.
“So- what? You got the job?”
“A job, to be sure. Much better prospects. Paid, even. I put in a good word for you at the end, too.”
“What do you-”
“Mr. Tipton.”
Before she could finish, the attendant shouted out from the doorway. The two - and many others - turned their attention to her immediately. She made a motion towards her neck indicating for Wayne to cut the discussion short. Her frown emphasized the imperative nature of doing so. Wayne let out a disappointed huff from his nose, but relented.
“Apologies, Ms. Graves. I’ll hold my tongue.”
The now named woman echoed Kara’s earlier surprise.
“How did you-”
“Know your name without you ever saying it? Don’t sweat it too much, Mercy. Plenty more surprises to come.”
Another hit. In confused panic, Ms. Graves shot a look towards her boss for some sort of answer or order. Lex was too busy rubbing his temples and thinking over his latest unplanned recruitment. She grit her teeth, resuming her glare towards the boy. There was little more for her to do or add.
Wayne had now enjoyed himself thoroughly. He returned his attention to Kara, who looked more on edge than ever. Removing his left hand from his pocket, he flashed her a peace sign for a moment, then returned it to its prior resting position. Sticking around any longer would only rattle the hive. The boy made his exit, leaving a crowd of bewildered onlookers in his wake. The last thing he heard as he entered the elevator once more was a highly frustrated Mercy calling out for one “Ms. Danvers”. He hoped she would do well. Having an active spy to dance around would make for an interesting start to his new position.