Neal had finally signed up an event though it was going to be held in The Iceberg Lounge, one of the most disreputable places in Gotham. It was a nightclub owned by Oswald Cobblepot, a renowned name in the Gotham underworld.

But then the disrepute of the place could hardly have any effect on Neal since he himself wasn't quite considered as a law abiding normal citizen. At least not anymore.

The blinding disco lights dazzled the audience as he took his place at the stage, the cheers and applause overpowering him as usual. A familiar feeling of excitement coursed through his veins, making a smile appear at his face despite the fact that he had not been feeling well since the past few days.

But that adrenaline rush through his system seemed to have rejuvenated him as his ocher irises sparkled, taking in the dazzle of the lights and the loud beat of the music.

That time he had signed up for the lead singer instead of simply hosting the event like he used to in Central Gotham. Thus all the attention of the audience was on him and he was well aware of the fact, keeping each movement calculated.

The drinks were being passed around among the guests and as the mellow sound of the violins began to resonate in the background, his slender fingers closed on to the microphone, the tattoos on his knuckles standing out in the glaring light.

"This fire in my head's got me on edge, I'm going out tonight. Faded on a thread, don't know what's next, I wanna feel alive," his voice overlapped the music as he began to sing, each rise and fall of tone prominently distinguishable even over the cheers that had erupted from the crowd.

"I kissed a stranger in a white dress, she put a crown on a top on my head. Said every king needs a queen in his bed..."

There were quite a number of whistles at that line and his head dipped slightly, a meaningful smile spreading over his face. The whole charisma of Neal's performance was in his expressions and in the effortless authority he held over his listeners.

"I said: Hey girl, hey girl, I'd like to stay here for a while. Just you and I, far from the places we can't get away from."

His voice rose at the chorus matching perfectly with the changing tune of the violins.

"Let the madness slowly undress, rip the mask off over our heads. We can dive down deeper instead."

By then the whole audience was under his spell, genuinely having a good time as he sang the rest of the song amid cheers and whistles. All the enthusiasm was seeping inside him, making him feel brilliantly alive and it was a feeling that he realized he had been missing ever since the last event he had done with him holding the center stage.

"She said: Hey boy, hey boy, I like your style. I'll let you play me for a while. Play me 'til the sun rises, play me like a violin."

But the bridge of the song was interrupted harshly when a loud crash sounded as if someone had broken into the club. For a second, utter confusion gripped all of them but as a series of gunshots sounded, all of them frantically ducked for cover.

The chandelier on top of Neal came loose for it seemed as a bullet from a gunshot was aimed at its hook and his eyes widened seeing the sharp crystal spikes on it ready to plunge down. His head transmitted the signal for him to roll out of the way but his feet seemed glued to the stage.

He was considering whether it would hurt more to die from those crystal spikes piercing into his body at several places or would it hurt worse if he died in the way he had pictured in the worst of his nightmares.

"Move!"

A jerk sprang him into action, gloved hands closing on to both his arms as he was pushed out of the way right as the chandelier crashed. The loud shatter shortly afterwards indicated that all its crystal spikes had reduced to smithereens littering the stage.

Whoever had pushed him out of the way was still holding onto him tightly and his back collided with the floor, knocking out his breath. He gasped but his eyes focused on the person who had saved him from the chandelier's fall.

Batgirl.

"Stay down," she ordered, her head snapping up as she looked around vigilantly for any signs of danger nearby.

The people who had attacked were still in the club as further gunshots sounded accompanied by terrified screams and whimpers. Neal bent over his arm, rolling over as he coughed but the noise was too much for anyone to notice him curled up at the side.

When he looked up the vigilante was gone but a fight was raging on in the club so he crawled into the nearest corner, steadying himself and taking refuge from the bullets flying overhead.

Deep down, he was pissed that the attackers had chosen that particular time to ruin the show, he had been having such a great night until the crashes and the gunshots sounded.

A slight twitching in his leg caught his attention and as he brushed his hand over his calf, he winced, the glass cutting through his palm. He noticed the shards sticking onto his leg, gleaming red from his own blood.

And seeing that, the remainder of his bright mood and all the enthusiasm from before evaporated as he drew out a weary sigh, "fuck... Fuck all of you..."

The sounds of gunshots and a full battle going on hadn't subsided but Neal retreated further into the dark, fingers cutting up as he took out the shards from his flesh carefully one by one. Each wince of pain was disguised by a swear word until a bo staff flashed in front of him.

He looked up to see Robin standing in front of him with his staff pointed straight at his nose. "Keep it a little PG, Hastings?"

Despite the pain, a slow smirk broke out on his face as he gripped the outstretched hand and stood up, "I bet you know words twice more colorful than those I just used."

"You got me," the slight tilt of the head and smirk indicated that Robin had most probably winked at him though it was hard to tell due to the mask covering his eyes.

Robin's firm arm draped round his back as he led him out and he noticed that even though the club looked like a warzone with bodies and shattered glass everywhere, the smoke had begun to clear up indicating that the fight was over and as usual the Bat vigilantes had either won or managed to make the attackers retreat.

A paramedics van was waiting outside and the vigilantes were taking the affectees out one by one. His ocher eyes landed on Batgirl recalling that she had saved him from the chandelier and he bowed his head slightly as if in gratitude.

Batgirl seemed to have seen his gesture but avoided giving any sign of acknowledgement as she disappeared back in the club along with Nightwing to bring out the rest of the people who were still inside.

***