November 1st, 2015. Sunday. 6:45 pm.
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The party was large and bright; the walls painted a vibrant white all the way to the ceiling. Dozens if not hundreds of people gathered in the central area and their voices bounced off the walls loudly, almost making it hard to hear.

I smoothed out my black dress and squared my shoulders as I entered the party. Mr. Luthor didn't disappoint. I hadn't called Clark to tell him I'd be here, didn't have the time. I spent too long in the shower, trying to figure out what to wear, and if I really should go. In the end, the decision was easy, and as I made my way through the crowd, I hope Clark wouldn't be upset.

A man a few inches taller than me with shoulder-length light brown hair caught my eye and sauntered over to me, plucking a champagne glass off a tray.

"Ms. Westmore! It's so great to meet you finally," he placed his hand in mine and shook dramatically.

I smiled, "It's nice to meet you too, Mr. Luthor. I've seen you in all the tabloids,"

"And I you. Now, tell me how is it the girl who captured the heart of a man seemed to be made of steel?" He asked stepping closer to me.

"Oh, uh was that why I was invited?"

"Of course! You're the most talked about woman in the world! I wasn't going to squander the perfect moment in meeting you," He glanced around the room oblivious to the uncomfortable atmosphere between us, "How did you like my speech? How do you like my home?"

"Your speech?" I questioned, and he nodded expectantly at me, "Well it was very...disjointed, but I only caught the end of it,"

His eyes squinted slightly at me before clapping his hands together, "Must be the champagne," he boasted, his laugh and voice high with falsehood.

"And my home?"

"It's amazing. I love how bright and polished everything is," a nervous sweat broke out at the nape of my neck, and I hastily searched for a familiar face and saw a flash of red to my right, but suddenly Mr. Luthor gasped.

"I'd be damned," he muttered before almost skipping past me, I turned to see him bounding over to a conversation between Clark and Bruce Wayne of Wayne Enterprises.

"Boys!"

The moment Clark turned his head towards the loud host his eyes landed on me. I could see the shock and confusion flash before his eyes for just a moment, and Mr. Luthor must've noticed it too because he cast a glance back towards me with a smile I was not comforted by.

Mr. Luthor clapped his hands together, and I had to fight every urge to drag Clark away the moment he was stuck in Mr. Luthor's presence. I idled my drink taking small sips as I watched the three men converse. Another flash of red caught my eye, and I saw a woman stalk past me just as the conversation between Clark and Mr. Wayne had run its course.

I followed the woman with my gaze across the room, and I caught sight of a caterer who was smiling brightly at me. His voice I could hear as he came closer, he was asking if I was Superman's girlfriend and at the mention of the man who can fly, several other pairs of eyes shot to me.

As quickly as my stiletto-clad feet could, I moved away to the outskirts of the crowd, slipping past many people to see Mr. Wayne walk down a hall with Clark not far behind.

Clark followed Mr. Wayne away from the party his footsteps light, and I hastily hurried after sure to walk on my toes, but Clark's strong hand caught my hip as I rounded the corner.

"What are you doing here, Annie?" His voice was thick with annoyance, probably because I hadn't listened to him.

"I got an invitation,"

"You don't think that's odd?" He asked.

"Not when I'm the most talked about woman on the planet, no," I was trying to lighten the mood, but he just stared at me with his usual furrowed brow.

"Why are you down here?" I questioned glancing around to see where Mr.Wayne had gone, "What's so curious about a washed up bachelor?"

Clark's attention wasn't on me anymore, but on the tv that was suddenly extremely loud. I hadn't even felt him move away from me. With a few clicks of my heels against the floor, I stood next to him.

Onscreen women and men and even children dressed in skulls and other vibrant costumes were shown in distress and crying to the sky as the camera pans to reveal a large building engulfed in bright red flames. I couldn't understand much but knew Clark was needed.

"You should-,"

There was no one next to me. I scoffed, of course not.

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November 3rd, 2015. Sunday. 1:13 am.

The shrill ring of my phone caused me to jolt, and my pen flew across the page, dragging a sharp black line with it. Annoyed, I tossed my pen and notepad on the couch and answered my phone with a huff.

"Did I wake you?"

I sat up, "Clark? Are you alright?"

His voice was heavy and sounded tired. On the other end, I heard him sigh. I lowered the volume of the late night show I was playing in the background and scrunched my nose in anticipation of his answer.

"I'm outside your door,"

My eyes snapped to the door as a knock sounded. Canceling the call, I placed my phone on the coffee table and went to open it. With a wide grin, I swung the door open to find a Clark not very happy to see me. His face was downcast and his jaw tight.

"Clark?" Reaching for him I pulled him into me by the shoulders and his arms draped loosely around my body, his forehead pressed against my shoulder.

"What's wrong?"

Panic was beginning to form, and I pulled his heavy head away from my shoulder, my hands gripping his neck to make him look me in the eye.

"Did something happen? Is your mother ok?"

"How did everything get so bad so fast?" The pain and question in his voice made me blink in lost thought.

I didn't think I had an answer for him. And as he leaned against me, in my doorway, his spirit broken and the late night show host on my tv agreeing with the world, that Clark cares so much about, ostracizing everything he does or doesn't do, I wondered if I was suddenly in over my head. I had only wanted Clark, but now I had Superman and an entire world keen on tearing him apart.

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