Bad, I'm better [Bruce Wayne]

Chapter 8.

When I turned around, I nearly bumped in to the person behind me and to make it even worse, while looking up I realized it was Bruce Wayne himself. I was so shocked at first that I completly forgot about how you were supposed to talk to your boss.

"Oh my god, you nearly gave me a heart attack." I said while putting a hand over my pounding heart. Then I caught myself again and tried to correct my mistake.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Wayne, I was just searching for a bathroom and I didn't know this was your private apartment..." I tried to explain, but he just chuckeled.

"Don't worry about it. It's no big deal. These guests wander off all the time." He said nonchalantly and I felt relieved, even though I could still feel my cheeks burning from embarrassment. 

"But what were you doing over here?" He asked, since this was obviously not the most exciting part of the penthouse. There was a huge lounging area, an enormous bed, a bar, the panoramic view...and I was standing at a wall right next to a door where only a picture of a house was on display. Not weird at all.

"I was just looking at this painting of...Wayne Manor, I believe? I saw it while walking through the room and it's impressive." I explained myself and Mr. Wayne started to look at the picture now, too.

"Yes, that's Wayne Manor. Or rather was." He told me and I looked up at him again.

"It burned down last year, right?" I asked reluctantly, not sure how he felt talking about the topic.

"About 9 months ago. On my birthday. Sounds great doesn't it?" He said, sarcasm clear in his voice.

"Not really. It must have meant a lot to you." I stated, but I didn't want to make him uncomfortable, so I rambled on.

"I would have loved to see it. I must have been an incredible house. But I mean, judging fom what I've seen so far, your penthouse is not too bad either."

"The penthouse is great. Pretty big, too. But it's not the same. All these modern pieces of furniture. It's just not my style." He said and looked over his shoulder and shook his head with antipathy.

"Yeah it must be truly horrible to live here." I stated, obviously joking.

"You wouldn't even understand how horrendous it really is. Only 7 bedrooms, 6 bathrooms and 2 ballrooms. This is what real agony looks like." He joined my banter and we both laughed.

"But you're rebuilding Wayne Manor, right? So you won't have to deal with it forever." I asked now just a little more serious again.

"I am, but it is far from finished, because everything is supposed to be exactly the same as it was before." He explained and I nodded.

"I hope that everything turns out the way you want it to when it's finally done. It's really sad that this had to happen to you." I told him in all honesty.

"Well, it could have been worse. I mean, I'm not trying to be a prick, but I have enough money to rebuilt it and afford another home. There are people who wouldn't be able to do that...so it's good that it's been me." He said, somehow lost in thoughts.

"I guess you're right..." I started, paused for a second as thoughts filled my mind and I just went on. "I just wish that everyone here in Gotham could have a good life. Because everyone deserves it, but...you know how it is." I looked at the painting again, but now I felt his eyes on me. Then I thought of something crazy and just said it without thinking.

"Even people like the Joker. I know he's crazy and a murderer, but I can't help but think that if we all had the same opportunities given at the start of our life...then maybe...our world wouldn't be so cruel. And less people would turn out to be like him." I paused and looked at him for a brief moment.