The date was June 9th. The sun sat at half its zenith, casting long shadows westward across the cityscape. Wayne yawned wide and loud. Cutting hours to show up on time will do that. The upside was that his father was available to drive him downtown today. It afforded the boy an extra forty or so minutes of rest, even if it meant humoring an intolerable presence.
Standing within the ground lobby once again, the atmosphere was much different. The employees seemed hastier than ever, and there was a distinct lack of foot traffic through the front entrance. The obvious answer to the latter could be seen through the tinted glass; a large congregation of press buzzed about the front courtyard of the building, just on the other side of a meticulously prepared stage and podium erected at the bottom of the steps leading to the building.
Wayne’s father was somewhere within the three ringed herds at the edges of the crowd. The families of the other two position winners - the real interns of the program - had mixed themselves in as well. Wayne felt a pang of disappointment as he watched them from within the tower. Rather than the two extras that had been chosen alongside him - though he was sure they were pleasant - he truly did hope that Kara would have been one of them. He’d have to wait for an after hours encounter instead. A pity.
Suddenly, there was a commotion from the elevators. From the hesitant admiration in the voices repeating the name of their boss as though a god had descended, it seemed that the event was to begin soon. Wayne, as well as the pretty red headed girl and a latino boy that he hadn’t seen on interview day, turned towards the auditory disturbance. To little surprise, Lex Luthor was strutting towards them in his courtly way. His best press smile had already been smeared from one edge of his full lips to the other. Mercy followed just two steps behind, as was her job.
“Ah! My lucky protégés”, Lex beamed with arms spread in welcome.
“Good morning! Glad to see you’re all-”
He paused his cursory scan of the three upon reaching his soon-to-be problem child. The other two teens were dressed to expectations. The girl was in the same attire as the week prior, and the other boy in a full brown suit. They were formal. Sleek. Up to code. But Wayne...
As if in defiance of the mundanity of status quo, Wayne wore a sleeveless black turtleneck and what appeared to be an office oriented pair of cinereous grey, wool parachute pants. They tapered snugly at the ankles, ballooning at hard angles around his black socks and just above his equally grey loafers - or at least what appeared to be loafers. The extruding taper surrounded each leg with roughly half a foot of radial excess. As a result, his stance was arrogantly wide. The usual hands in his pockets only accentuated that veneer, which was itself emphasized by the swept back ends of his open blazer - also a cinereous grey. A pitch black belt ran through the loops of the pants. It was the oddest item of all, as its plainness belied the fact that it seemed to be one continuous strip of material.
Lex was beside himself on whether or not to comment. It demanded attention he had no time to give. His mind sorted through a myriad of possible press responses before settling on something to the tune of "pioneering a fashion forward business environment".
“Appropriately dressed”, was the best conclusion the man could offer as he quickly moved on.
“From this moment forward, each of you will represent this company in all that you do. I have the… Utmost confidence that your talents, your ingenuity, will help you achieve more here than you could dream!”
More than you could ever know, Wayne thought with fervour.
“Now, to the important part.”
Lex proceeded past the adolescent trio while gesturing to the swarm of reporters outside.
“You see that crowd?”
The three nodded. It was impossible to have missed it on their way inside.
“Every one of those people is here to meet you - to see what makes you tick. They’ll bombard you with as many questions as you can take and then some, if you let them. Handling that pressure will make for an excellent debut for you. See if you can withstand it. Or better yet - conquer it.”
A challenge. Or perhaps “test” was a more fitting term. An excuse for each of the three to prove their worth to their temporary employer by making good headlines for him. Wayne also sensed that an unspoken competition was now in effect, as did the others. No cooperation here. Each was on their own. Just like the real world.
The fire of determination could be seen flitting behind the eyes of the other two. Their zeal could be felt in the air and in the force of their steps. Both wore their well-practiced smiles, and held their chests high as they all but marched out of the double doors to take their places beside the podium. The doorman on call made their public entrances all the more impressive. Truly, this was the appeal of model workers. Model students. Model cogs.
But Wayne was Wayne.
He shot Lex a flat look after watching his peers begin their catwalk. Lex met his gaze, dropping his pleasant expression to raise an authoritative brow at the rebel. Wayne maintained eye contact for a moment, then looked to the bodyguard. Mercy only echoed the expression of her boss, her arms crossed stiffly. No room for comment here. With a sigh, the boy straightened his back a bit and put on his best smile - the same one as ever. His pants pockets remained thick from his hands’ occupancy. Lex let out a sigh realizing that this was a demonstration of the boy’s best. The man shrugged in reluctant acceptance. Wayne took that as his cue to follow the others.
With a bit of a gap between, the large glass doors were once more opened by the doormen as Wayne made his first steps out into public view. Camera flashes assaulted his eyes. The noise level rose significantly, voices growing excited at the confirmation of the third program winner. The redhead on stage took notice of this, looking over her shoulder to squint at him with what little aggression she could afford while still under the paparazzi’s eye. He didn’t notice. Wayne was too busy scanning the crowd for today’s important contact. Or contacts, if he was lucky.
It seemed that once again, he was. Towards the back of the crowd stood an unmistakable silhouette. It was a tall man in all blue. His black hair was combed back into a small, shiny pompadour. Even from where Wayne stood, the thick black rims of the man’s glasses could be seen, and the angle made his dull red necktie just barely observable. Most importantly, his stature was unmistakable thanks to his overly proper posture. Stocky. Wide. Though his suit hid the details well, there were definitive signs of heavy musculature to his form. The width of the man’s neck was a major one - easily exceeding that of his square and dimpled jaw. It was the Daily Planet’s very own rising star: Clark Kent.
To add to the revelation, Kent stood beside a woman of equal recognition as they spoke with - of all people - Wayne’s father. Just as raven haired as her companion, it flowed down to her shoulder blades in neat, rounded ends. Her back was to Wayne at the time, so he couldn’t confirm her facial features yet. Additionally, rather than the expected Lilac blazer, she seemed to be wearing a black collared crimson suit. It didn’t stick out much in the boys memories at all, but these were still normal people. Expecting them to wear the same outfit daily was an illogicality of media constraints. It didn’t matter anyways. The way she elbowed Kent and her general body language was enough. There was no mistaking anyone for the one and only Lois Lane.
Were he able to, he would smile more, thanks to this show of good fortune. Seeing his father get along so well with the man in blue was a good sign for a number of reasons. Most importantly, Mr. Tipton was the sort to network and make friends in moments like these. Journalism was suitably proximal to his father’s work as an audio mixer, so there was an excuse to do so. Better for Wayne, really.
By now, he had wandered his way onto the stage with the others. Lex and Mercy were shortly behind him, slowed slightly from doling out dignified waves to the assorted cameramen.
Wayne was furthest out from the podium. He and his peers all stood an equal two feet from one another. While in the midst of pageant waving to cameras herself, the redheaded girl in the middle side-eyed Wayne and whispered.
“Don’t think your special placement will get you too far, slacker.”
Wayne met her glance and produced a fake chuckle.
“I wouldn’t sweat it much. You and I are playing different games, after all.”
Just as the girl was about to lose composure, the man of the hour cleared his throat at the microphone to their left. All eyes turned to look up at Lex Luthor as he placed his hands on either side of the podium top. His voice boomed through the courtyard, confident and firm. His delivery was as perfected as ever.
“As you well know; Lexcorp has always prided itself in being a monument to ingenuity and drive. A beacon to those seeking to bring out their very best, with the very best.”
Though there were still some hurried movements by those attempting to get better angles on the speaker, the crowd managed to stay silent as the CEO continued.
“One day, it occurred to me that these opportunities could not only benefit the business world at large. It could propel the future of this nation higher than ever imagined. It was for that reason that my Junior Entrepreneur Program was established; to raise the young and intrepid to not only learn the ways of the corporate world-”
Lex raised his right hand, dramatically clenching his fingers into a tight ball.
“But to dominate it.”
A light applause broke out at this phrase, seemingly started by one of the parents and a few scattered news anchors with free hands. Lex beamed and waved it down before continuing.
“The screening process was arduous. Thousands of this country’s brightest applied, spurred on by the promise of a golden future. In the end, selecting only two candidates proved more difficult than anticipated.”
Lex and Wayne exchanged a look at this moment. The girl huffed to herself while the other boy continued to watch the crowd with a prideful grin.
“So, without further ado, I shall introduce the three successful applicants for the first ever Lexcorp J. E. Program; Esteban Maroto Estéves!”
The first boy took a step forward, waving jauntily to the flashes in the crowd with a wide, toothy smile. The parents and other members of the crowd clapped heartily until the boy took a step back. Lex, Mercy, and the girl also joined in the applause, stopping in time with the rest of the audience. Wayne’s hands didn’t move from their places.
“Alice Berenice Cohen!”
The redhead took her turn in the spotlight, met with the resumption of applause and photography. She posed a little as she waved. One hand to her angled hip, a single knee bent, and her waving hand held high. Her expression had been practiced to a frighteningly perfect genuineness. Alice took a few seconds longer than Esteban, using that time to happily wave to her parents before returning to her starting place.
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The air deadened again. Attention shifted once more to Wayne. He could feel their anticipation. Dozens of forefingers poised to depress their camera triggers as soon as the signal was given. Wayne stared into the benign firing squad, ready to be shelled into personhood. Into public perceptibility. And then the moment came.
“And finally, Wayne D. Tipton!”
As the clapping ensued, the boy followed the unspoken protocol by stepping forward. It had occurred to him, in that moment, that he had failed to write out his middle name in full on both his resume and application forms. Normally, this would have mattered as little as what the name actually was, but this scenario made the difference in addressal stand out. Waving felt too pedestrian a gesture, but simply standing there seemed worse. Something more personal was needed.
Wayne’s left hand escaped his pocket. Starting as a fist, he extended his index and middle fingers straight with his thumb running parallel against the former. He pressed their tips to his temple for just a moment. In the next, his hand moved outward from the point of contact by about one foot. As the limb arced into position, the extended fingers separated into a V shape. He held this pose for the mob of lenses, his smug seeming smirk stretched across his lax face. The photographers loved it. Alice hated it. Lex remained undecided.
Once roughly twenty seconds had passed, the hand returned to its holster. Wayne looked to his new boss, who met his gaze. He shrugged, attempting to signal that he had nothing else to show off with. The boy wasn’t much for the limelight. Lex made a lucky guess by stopping his own clapping hands and turning back towards the crowd. The boy took his cue to step back.
“Yes, well”, Luthor resumed. “These three are quite the spectacle, on their own - and that flair spoke to me just as loudly as their displays of wit and intellect. I could not ask for finer apprentices!”
In the brief pause, the parents took the opportunity to instigate yet more applause. Lex humored it with a smile, and let it die down naturally before moving along.
“While I would love nothing more than to continue to sing their praises, this is to be a momentous day for these three youths. The first of their two months working alongside me and my best! Learning all that they can! Stepping into tomorrow stronger and wiser than they began. Congratulations to each of you! Lexcorp and Metropolis look forward to what you will achieve here!”
The final ovation. Whistles from the parents. Confetti burst into the air from small mortars hidden behind the stage, showering the crowd. Everyone clapped. Everyone smiled. Lex stepped away from the podium, motioning with one hand for his three understudies to gather around him. In a hushed tone, the man addressed the teens with cutthroat clarity.
“You have thirty minutes to speak with the press. Be terse. Be civil. Speak to your families if you must, but I expect you all in my office once you’re done.”
They nodded. They scattered. Lex remained on stage, speaking to a few reporters as they came. Esteban beelined to his parents to receive a hug and their praises. Alice eyed the crowd for the biggest grouping of press. Her family took notice when she had picked her mark, making their way towards her as she began her personal Q&A session.
Wayne felt like giving an exclusive to two specific reporters, who were conveniently still with his own father towards the back of the crowd. He waved off a few stray journalists on his way. He gave an excuse he thought they might like. Something about wanting a family farewell before starting his big day. He’d do that too, of course. It was simply secondary to his true objective.
“Wasn’t sure about the outfit this morning”, Mr. Tipton teased as his son approached. “But ya' honestly looked pretty good standing up there, kiddo. Proud of ya’.”
The boy spared his father a chuckle. Fake as ever, but it was the right thing to do. The father gave his son a firm side hug and laughed in turn. It was jovial, yet anxious. Then, eyes sparkling with paternal dignity, Mr. Tipton gestured towards the other adults that had kept him company.
“Wayne, this here is Mr. Clark Kent and Ms. Lois Lane, from the Daily Planet!”
Both reached a hand forward and offered a hello, which Wayne was glad to return in kind.
“Quite the impression you’ve left here, ‘kiddo’”, Ms. Lane followed up, echoing the father's endearing term. “Takes a lot of something to catch Luthor’s eye. Your father was telling us all about how determined you were to get into this program. He’s very proud of you, y'know?”
“That something”, Wayne replied confidently. “Is just knowing the right angle to work. Adults tend to underestimate children. Lex, especially so. I just happened to know exactly what he wanted to hear, and how to word it.”
Ms. Lane’s brow flinched, but she maintained her composure overall. There must have been an error with Wayne’s tone. Or maybe he could have worded that less abrasively? Something to work on. Something to mull over. Something for later.
“Hmm. Now I can see why Lex took such a shine to you. You’re very… Similar.”
There was a splash of venom to that last word. Wayne didn’t need to know what he knew to understand the implication. Lois Lane was no fan of his tongue. He was suddenly glad to have not tried the journalism angle.
As if to save the day, it was at this moment that Mr. Kent decided to interject.
“I’m sure Luthor thought the same thing during your interview. All three of you must have given him a run for his money!”
Mr. Kent and Mr. Tipton laughed together. Clearly the two were on a similar wavelength. It was a smart move, though, Wayne had to admit. It certainly softened Ms. Lane’s expression up again.
“So”, the statuesque man continued with an inquisitive look. “I heard you ran into my cousin on interview day, right?”
“Kara, yes”, Wayne replied, his smirk faded at the mention. “A shame she didn’t make it in… Was really hoping she would. I get the feeling it would have been a lot more interesting with her around.”
The boy looked out towards where Alice was still coyly fluffing up publicity. It seemed she had now brought her family into the act as well. Or perhaps they inserted themselves into it. Somehow, neither possibility struck him as too outlandish from the way their perfected grins sparkled in the camera light.
“I don’t normally vibe with show boats, but I think she would have been a welcome exception.”
The three adults could only make guesses at what he meant, but Mr. Kent got the idea.
“Well, you certainly left an impression on her. She almost forgot to mention the interview itself, talking about what an eccentric young man you are.”
The smirk returned.
“Ah, sorry if I teased her a bit too much. Bad habit on my part - I meant no offense. We were having a great conversation, so I felt I should, um… Share a bit of what I knew. Just between me and her, of course.”
There was no way that the bespectacled man would not know what he meant. Wayne was sure of it, and the stern face Mr. Kent was making all but confirmed it. He hated to make an enemy of the guy so soon. This topic was simply unavoidable. It was especially unfortunate what poor timing it arrived at. No escape, nor suitable explanation could be employed here - at least, none the boy could think of. Wayne could only offer yet more cryptic implication due to present company.
Mr. Kent narrowed his eyes in response, searching the boy’s face for any signs of malintent or trickery. The tiny hairs of his cheeks and neck remained unperturbed. No pupil dilation, nor suspicious nostril flaring. Even his heartbeat was steady. A little slow, but steady. No ticks at all. Either the boy was speaking the truth, or he was so attuned to lying that he had overcome the physiological tells. Mr. Kent couldn't tell, and that worried him the most.
There was some good in this. At minimum, it meant Kara really was the only one the boy let anything slip to. However, this also confirmed a very real problem; Wayne really did know. About Mr. Kent. About Kara. About their shared secret. Perhaps the boy knew even more. And now, that same boy was working in close proximity to the one person that very likely hated Kent above all others. The man worried for the boy. But he also worried about his own circumstances.
“Well”, Mr. Kent contemplated aloud. “As long as it was just between you two. I know he’s your boss now, but Luthor can be ruthless when he wants something. Just try not to get in over your head, kid.”
“The concern is appreciated”, Wayne bowed, placing his right hand over the left side of his chest. “Don’t worry about me though. I can distract Mr. Luthor with plenty of other nonsense. Lots of busy work. It should be fine, for a while.”
Ms. Lane took this as an insult, although she wasn’t entirely sure what about. There was something about the combination of the teen’s half-hearted grin, the bowing, and his perpetually flat tone of voice that stirred her blood.
She shot Mr. Kent a look; one brow pushed inward, the other raised high while one corner of her lips receded into the cheek. Not a pleasant expression. Mr. Kent glanced back, holding up a single hand with his palm flat towards her. He didn’t blame her for her frustration, but the man couldn’t risk retaliation with the current stakes.
“Be that as it may, I’m sure your father would feel better knowing that you aren’t getting into too much trouble. Right, Mr. Tipton?”
“Please”, Wayne’s father chuckled, finally able to edge into this otherwise incomprehensible dialogue. “Call me Mitch! But, uh– You’re right. Staying safe and out of trouble are definitely priorities. I don’t know what you seem to 've cooked up... But please don’t pull yourself under on a whim. Okay, kiddo?”
“Absolutely. Not on just a whim, at the very least”, Wayne agreed, ignoring the full scope of what was asked of him.
Mr. Tipton chortled more, taking this to be a joke. Mr. Kent was less trusting of the boy’s word, but joined in to keep the peace. Ms. Lane maintained her glower. Wayne hoped at least Mr. Kent would be satisfied.
Wayne was more tight lipped as he remained in this group. His father was happy to recount memories of the boy’s past to the others. After the third one - a story about Wayne going above and beyond to prove to his cantankerous kindergarten teacher that narwhal were very much real - the mood was successfully restored. Ms. Lane just laughed at the boy’s expense, but Wayne wasn’t perturbed. He'd rather she have her fun, so long as it didn't interfere with his doing the same.
Compelled to check his phone, Wayne noticed that his remaining free time was dwindling. He said his farewells to his father, and thanked the journalist duo for the conversation before starting his walk back to Lexcorp tower. It seemed that Esteban and Alice had already slipped inside, leaving Wayne with a slew of press to dissuade from any last second interrogations. He shot off a few brief answers to the simpler questions, ignoring anything that required a more thorough explanation. It was a quizzical gauntlet, but Wayne managed to escape into the safety of the glass double doors once more.
◅◁◇▷▻
As they watched him leave, Clark turned to the boy’s father to ask a question. He wasn’t expecting to see the man’s face turn so glum. Clark looked to Lois, who had been observing the crowd before noticing the attention. Clark motioned towards the other man, awaiting the woman’s opinion on the change. Lois stared at Mr. Tipton's profile, clueless as to what she was expected to do. She fired a look back at Clark. He shrugged. She sighed, then carefully pried.
“Everything alright?” asked Lois as she placed a hand on the older man’s shoulder. Mitch looked to the both of them before glancing down to the ground beneath himself. His smile was embarrassed. His hands fumbled with one another aimlessly.
“Well… It’s hard to put into words”, he said solemnly. “I’m proud of my son. He’s worked hard for this– obsessed over it, even. But that’s just it. The boy’s got… Some sort of goal with all this. Won’t tell anyone what it is, or why he’s so sure about everything. Least of all, me.”
With a gravelly sigh, the father turned back to Clark.
“Mr. Kent… Would you believe me if I said that my son knew who you were before you even wrote your first article?”
Clark and Lois both gawked.
“What do you mean by that?” Lois imposed with astonishment.
“Same goes for you, Ms. Lane. Back when you worked for that other newsletter, um… What was it– News Express? I think? Boy wasn’t more than six at the time. Started talking about how you were gonna end up working for the Planet any day now, and boom; the very next month, you’d gotten scouted out by ‘em. I’ve never seen Wayne so much as glance at a newspaper unless it had a headline confirming something he’s already predicted.”
“Good to have a fan… I think?” joked Lois. Though she downplayed her response, the emotion pumping through her was a rather new sort of fear. Clark felt it too, and much more intensely. Seeing the father's worry only amplified his own. His next query hesitated. He wanted to be as delicate as possible.
“Did... Did Wayne ever mention things about any, um… I believe ‘meta-humans’ is the term they use now. Any cases where he’d bring them up?”
Mitch laughed bitterly.
“When doesn’t he? It’s the only thing he seems to ever think about: Superman. Batman. The Flash. Some people called ‘Wonder Woman’ and ‘Martian Manhunter’. My boy is fixated on those capes more than anyone.”
Shaking his head, Mitch stared once more at the black-tinted shine of the Lexcorp glass.
“I wouldn’t doubt if he knew the names and faces of every masked marauder out there. Not just their known ones, either; I’m talking the names on the birth certificates. Scares me like nothing else can. The thought of some nut job coming after him ‘cause he knows something he shouldn’t… And no one coming to save him for the exact same reason.”