There's a reason your mother wanted to make sure you got to go to a school out of Oregon. Originally, you weren't even suppose to leave the state. You were going to live out a normal life in Portland, at the same high school as all of your other friends. Nothing was suppose to change, everything was going to be the same. Sure, with the events of high school? You'd loosen up and stop being such a stick in the mud when it came to the fun your friends would have. Eventually, you'd start climbing fences and running off more often. Grinning and laughing more over sketchy and stupid teenage shit you and your friends would do. Like run off to the back of school with a plastic water bottle filled with vodka, or something. Or managing to get drunk off bitch-beers with your friends  after sophomore year, on the roof of a friends house or something.

You were supposed to live out the rest of your life as any normal teenager would, go through a couple significant others until you found the right person. Stealing shopping carts from stores, riding them down hills and such. Driving not so nice cars, but keeping the windows rolled down and music all the way up. Making stupid decisions, like piercings. Go camping with a couple friends only so that one of them comes back with some type of rash due to a plant.

You were supposed to be normal. But all chances of that happening were taken away from you the moment your father decided it was his call to make sure you know how to defend yourself, by sticking you with some woman who you didn't even know for an entire year.

All chances of you living out a normal life were stripped away from you when you were five years old, being shoved down a flight of stairs with enough force to break your left arm. Only to find out in a security camera recording that nobody was behind you when you were shoved down the flight of stairs.

All chances of you living out a normal life were stripped away from you when you picked up that monkey wrench in a dark alley behind a drug store in Portland, when you were in seventh grade. The rain pouring down over your face, not a single expression evident in your features during the events that took place that night. There's probably a reason you can't remember that night so clearly, but that night is apart of the reason you had to get out of Oregon.

All chances of you living out a normal life were ripped away from you the moment you got into Gotham, leaving Portland once and or all finally. A different city, everything is different. Places are different, there's no Waterfront in Gotham. Less things to go and do, but it's still promising.

All chances of you living out a normal life were violently shaken out of your entire being when you made eye contact with Damian Wayne for the first time, at that point? There was no going back, you got yourself involved in something that was as far away from normal as you could get. Because just one tiny little event, could very well trigger several bigger ones.

So as you sit in the passenger seat of your step-father's car, you keep your head rested against the door as you watch the sun slowly set. It took a while to get ready for the event, but after a while? You had some loose curls that were pinned back, and a couple clips in your hair to keep down strands and fly-away's. The drive is probably going to last about fifteen more minutes, so in the mean time you had an album that you got as a gift from Mason last year for your birthday in the player, sending the music through the car at a high volume. Windows rolled down, but not the excited feeling somebody would usually get with loud music and rolled down windows.

There she was my new best friend. High heels in her hands, swayin' in the wind. While she starts to cry, mascara running down her little Bambi eyes: 'Lana, how I hate those guys!'

You sighed while you let your hand trace over to the dashboard, wiping some dust before you grabbed a rubber band, sliding it onto your wrist and snapping it against your skin a couple times before you caught your step father's attention.

"Nervous? Hey, Kiddo. You know it's going to be fine." He stated loudly, smiling into his words as his right hand trailed off the steering wheel to go towards your wrist, taking off the rubber band and placing it around the stick shift in the mean time.

You crossed your arms over your chest while you watched your step-father continue steering the car into the lanes they needed to go to, making you more excited to learn to drive just by watching him. The music in the car and the wind in your hair was what helped pass the time by, so you just listened to the lyrics of the songs that played until your step-father actually found the place.

They were the only friends I ever had. We got into trouble and then when stuff got bad, I got sent away. I was wavin' on the train platform, cryin' 'cause I know I'm never comin' back.

***
**At the charity event, Damian's p.o.v 20 minutes later**
***

"White, what are you doing here." It was a question that sounded like a demand, and upon hearing the voice of his friend? The youngest Krypton grinned widely and turned around to find the source of none other than Damian Wayne.

Wearing black slacks and a blazer jacket, but with a red T-shirt on under it and a pair of blue converse to go with it? There's no denying Jon's Clark's kid. There's also no denying that he took every chance he could to get along with Damian, or at least hang out with him. Sure, Damian's a year older than him and all. And as much as Damian refuses to admit it? He finds Jon amusing. Jon Samuel White, otherwise known as Clark Kent and Lois Lane's son.

He inherited a lot of stuff from his father, obviously.

"What'ya mean 'what are you doing here', dude I'm on the guest list. You don't need to be arrogant with me all the time," Jon paused, letting his bright and big blue eyes behind locks of messy black hair scan across a tray of food being moved around the room by a waitress. Damian only scoffed and rolled his eyes, stepping forwards down a couple steps so he could be eye to eye with Jon.

Though Jon is younger than him? He's still a little taller than Damian. Which irks the youngest Wayne, to no end. But he's the one who put Jon o the guest list, after all. But if he can find a way to get out of admitting he actually wanted Jon here because Collin couldn't make it? He'd hold onto his pride if he could.

Whereas Jon about half attempted to dress nicely, it was Damian who usually outdid it. On an habit only, he'd wear a pair of converse with a suit if he was in a hurry. But that was usually when he could get away with it. This wasn't really one of those times, seeing as Bruce only kept glaring at him every time he attempted to leave when something wasn't right yet. Damian knew how to put on a tie, he knew how to wear one too.

With his dark locks of black hair slicked back, and bright green teal eyes that seemed to light up more when he has to put on a public face. His smiles were never just that, they were almost always smirks. He looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here, and guests were only now starting to come in. By guests, he means the people who were personally invited by Bruce himself before-hand anybody else who bought tickets, or got invited another way.

"You just happened to be on the list, probably a mistake from the last incident you managed to get into another one of my father's events." Damian was holding onto his pride as he continued to walk past Jon, only so the younger teenager could turn on his heel and quickly speed himself up to Damian.

Jon only crinkled his eyebrows a bit before blowing a medium sized blue bubble with gum he'd been chewing, causing Damian to cringe at the sound it made after it popped. Always brought a slight laugh out of Jon to mess around with Damian anyway he possibly could.

As Damian sat down at a large chair in front of an even large table with a tablecloth that looked like it probably cost more than half the dresses some of the women bought for this occasion, Jon pulled up a chair and scooted the wooden legs across the marble ground an then plopped himself in the seat next to Damian. Putting his elbows on the table and leaning his chin into both his open palms while he continued to look at the ew guests coming into the ballroom part of the manor. Jon still really couldn't get over how big of a house Damian lived in, how much room does a person need? After all, he is aware of the entire Batman secret, though. Just as aware as Damian is of the entire Superman secret as well.

"What's Ninth grade like?" Jon asked, leaning back slightly to look at his older friend, the way his olive skin seemed to soak up any light no matter if it was from the sun or not? It seemed impressive, considering he never looked washed out or oddly pale no matter what. Then you have Jon, who sometimes looks like an albino with dyed hair if he's seen in the wrong lighting.

"Boring. Father is making me go to school with other people my age. Grayson made a comment about how I get all my education at home and that it isn't good for someone to stay so isolated." Damian seemed annoyed with this logic, and it honestly confused Jon. Jon goes to a public school, with the one rule of him one being able to participate in sports.  Obvious reasons, because being able to lift a truck with a single hand is just too much of a head start anyways.

Jon wasn't aware of much about Damian from before he became Robin, doesn't like to ask him about it because whenever he does? Damian gets angry, or just quiet. He either wont talk, or he'll throw out insults. There was no in between. And all the times that Jon's decided to sneak into the cave to try and talk to Damian whenever he had nothing else to do? It usually met ends with an angry Bruce calling up Clark and telling him to come and get his son back. One time Jon accidentally scared Dick by just randomly showing up, seeming to pop up with behind him. The completely opposite of what Batman does.

"Well you really don't have many friends, name ten of them." It may have sounded harsh, but Jon didn't mean it as an insult. Damian was aware of that, it's just how sometimes when Jon would talk? He wouldn't think about how it all sounded before he spoke.
"Tt-"
"Oh no, that terrifying Tt sound! Whatever will I do?" Jon exclaimed dramatically, throwing his hands up and feigning a paranoid look. At this? Damian only crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at his friend who sat to his left while he stomped on his foot under the table. Damian's still trying to get use to the fact Jon isn't like Collin. Damian can't just nudge him or stomp on his foot to get him to shut up about something. Collin isn't weak, there's no lie there. But he isn't Jon. He isn't a Kryptonian, and yes a stomp on the foot is bothersome to Collin. But to Jon? One time, while finding out the hard way that it wouldn't work, Damian only sprained his ankle while he attempted to do that.

So upon seeing that Damian tried to stomp on his foot? Jon only gave Damian a look that begged the question, 'Are you serious right now?'

Damian didn't hurt himself, he learned from the last time. Which meant he wasn't going to ever let that happen again. He'd just need to find another way to get Jon to stop running his mouth for a few seconds.

"Hey, who's that?" Jon spoke, tugging on one of the black sleeves to Damian's perfectly fitted suit to try and get his attention.  Swatting his friends hand away, Damian ventually turned to look at who Jon was pointing at.

A girl with curled (H/c) hair held back with a couple pins, and in a blue lace dress and white tights with small heels as her coat was being taken and offered to be hung up. She looked a little scared, really. Jon only confirmed that when he said he only noticed her because he could literally hear her heartbeat from before she even entered the room. It was only confirmed even more when she couldn't stop fidgeting her hands, holding her right wrist with her left hand while people came up to her and spoke. She looked a little uncomfortable, the way the corners of her lips would twitch upwards before she'd smile. Constantly avoiding eye contact.

Damian leaned forward on the table and rested his chin in his palm, looking at her and then looking to another one of the people who came here who were personally invited. He wasn't showing any of the same signs she was when it came to being nervous, he seemed like this was completely normal. Only three out of the five people here who Bruce wrote out hand written invitations for have arrived.

If Damian knew one of his classmates was going to be one of those five people? He probably would have taken out a little extra time in the day just to learn more about them, because he was aware of why his father hand selected these five people in particular.

Damian's lips slowly started to form into a smirk, looking over at you from this distance while people attempted to talk to you about your scholarship and how amazed they were about your talents. Of course Damian recognized the girl as you, he has you in about half of his classes.

"Damian, hello? Earth to Damian." Jon taunted, mockingly waving his hand in front of Damian's face. Only so it could be grabbed and shove away. He didn't make a response to Jon, only got up from his seat and made his way over to you.