Here's a little something whilst I work on requests and college work

EDIT: TW BULLYING

https://www.bullying.co.uk/

https://www.nationalbullyinghelpline.co.uk/contact.html

https://www.anti-bullyingalliance.org.uk/tools-information/if-youre-being-bullied/find-help-and-support

A gala. They were the bane of Dick's existence. He's hated them ever since he was a kid. The first one he ever went to was awful. Everyone looked down at him like he was a piece of discarded gum on the pavement. He was beneath the lords and ladies, the millionaires and billionaires. After all, he was just the orphan circus boy. Only there through the pity of one influential Gothamite. Dick looked at himself in the bathroom mirror and fixed his bow tie. Tonight those who looked down on him were going to get a show. He'd prove he could be just as good as the children raised by the nannies of the rich. He could be even better. This would be just another part he played. Richard Grayson, the circus boy who surprised everyone. The teenager that acted better than any other. He checked the cuffs of his sleeves. He'd be the picture-perfect boy everyone wanted him to be. That would cool the press right? They might finally give him time to breathe. Maybe he'd be able to walk past a newspaper stand without his next mistake on the cover. "Dick, we're going to leave in a minute," Bruce called from the hall. 

"I'll be out in a minute," he replied. He gave himself one last pat-down. No circus antics. No attempts at sarcasm. No being Dick Grayson. He was Richard and that's it. His posture straightened so there wasn't an inch that he could be slouching. His suit was perfect. He'd put makeup over the dark circles underneath his eyes and the small bruise under his chin. He was just a thirteen-year-old orphan on his best behavior.

Bruce noticed something was wrong as soon as they got into the limo. Dick's face was perfectly blank, not even a twinge of nerves on him. Normally he was rambling about math or something Wally did at this point but there was nothing. Not even a hum. "Is something wrong?" he asked worriedly. He didn't like whatever this was. Dick was so full of emotion, you could feel it come off him in waves, yet here he sat like a blank slate. "Not at all," he answered, his voice dull and dead. It sent shivers down Bruce's spine to hear. This wasn't the boy he'd raised. He certainly wasn't the boy his parents had once raised before meeting their untimely ends. "Are you sure?" He nodded stiffly. The older hummed, not believing it. "I forgot to mention before that Roy will be there too. If I'm not mistaken, Barry and Wally might show too later on," he said. Dick froze. Damn, they'd do anything to push him to act like himself. No, he wouldn't let them. He was trained to play a part. Maybe not this part but it was a part to play nonetheless. He could push them away by busying himself with socializing. They daren't interrupt a conversation between him and someone important. By the time they finally got to him, the gala would be over and his act would be over anyhow. "Dick?"

"It will be nice to see them both though I doubt we'll have much time to spend together."

"You're sort of scaring me here. You must tell me if something is wrong," Bruce persisted. Screw the gala. He'd turn this limo right back around if the teenager needed it. He just needed more of a sign. 

"I would tell you if there were yet there is not. I'm perfectly fine." He turned away from the older and towards the window at the passing landscape. 

"Okay, but do tell me if anything changes."

Dick's odd behavior didn't go unnoticed by his friends either. The entire night he was like a robot. He was like a clone of their friend but the cloner had forgotten to add the personality. He shook the hands of the men and women who with just a snap of their fingers could ruin a career. They seemed to notice the behavior too but weren't at all put off by it. If anything, they were enjoying it. A woman, Lady Cambell, walked over with her husband, Lord Cambell, and held her hand out for Dick to take. He took it and gave it a gentle kiss with a bow. "Why I say you've certainly changed from when I last saw you, Richard," she commented. He smiled politely and straightened up. 

"Do forgive me for presuming but I shall take that as a compliment," he responded. Roy and Wally watched slack-jawed at the sight. He didn't even correct her. His name was Dick. It had always been Dick. He always corrected people. The noble pair smirked to one another. That seemed to be some sort of test. Word was going around the gala of the boy's new behavior and they were making sure the rumor was real. The worst part was Dick was going along with it. "Then you've taken it as intended. Your etiquette is much better than the last time," she commented.

"I do apologize. In retrospect, I was acting completely out of turn." They thought back to the last gala. He didn't do anything wrong last time! The entire night he was outside playing tag with Roy and Wally. He wasn't even at the party! "Indeed. You've become quite well trained. I see they've drawn out all those nasty gypsy traits," Lord Cambell complimented. It was backhanded. They expected Dick's features to turn. For him to lash out at the notion that his upbringing was anything less than perfect. "I honestly thought you were a lost cause."

"I like to defy expectations, sir," he replied. His tone was completely controlled and calm.

"He's got an alien parasite or something because that's just not him," Barry stated. They watched the couple continue to chatter with the teen before finally releasing him back into the flow of the party where he was picked up by yet another couple. They tried it on too yet he didn't say anything about it. He just smiled politely. "That's it I'm going in-" Bruce said, beginning to walk over. Oliver grabbed his wrist and pulled him back into the huddle he and the children had made. "And have your face plastered all over the papers before an off-world mission?" he reminded him.

"I can't just leave him there. Something is wrong with him," he argued. Barry smirked and put each of his hands on Roy and Wally's shoulders. 

"Luckily we have the perfect scapegoats."

Yet another conversation went down awfully but Dick kept a brave face. If he was the model teenager just this once then people will assume differently about him. They'll give him a break after this. He noticed his guardian and friends talking over in the corner, away from the main floor where everyone was socializing. He raised an eyebrow at this considering Bruce and Oliver needed these events to further and maintain their businesses. He didn't go over though. If he went over then Roy and Wally were bound to rope him into trouble and all his hard work would be lost. As he talked with the owner of a large oil company, doing his best to keep his more liberal views from coming out, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around. Fuck. "Roy and I are gonna throw rocks in the fountain, wanna come?" Wally asked with a grin. Dick didn't need to turn around to know the businessman he was talking to wouldn't approve. So he couldn't approve. "Not really no. I find that rather childish," he answered then turned back around. "Sorry for the interruption sir."

"No need, I'm just happy at least one of the billionaire brats have grown up." Wally glared at him and walked back to Roy. 

"Didn't work," he said defeatedly. The other ginger rubbed his chin in thought. Maybe that was going in a little too hard even though they always threw rocks in the fountains. They could try something that wouldn't cause major damage. He walked over to Dick who was now getting a drink for the man he was previously talking to. "Can I help you?" Dick asked, his tone sharp.

"Overheard that guy making fun of Bruce, fancy a little payback?" Roy inquired, digging a bag of sneezing powder out of his pocket. He dangled it in front of the teenager but that just made Dick roll his eyes. "Why are you being so insistent on getting me into trouble?"

"I'm not trying to," Roy defended.

"If you're not trying to then leave me alone. It's like you're addicted to ruining my chances at these things," he snapped. The ginger scoffed.

"What? Are you trying to pick up these rich chicks?" He didn't see Dick as a ladies man but to each their own. 

"No! God, you just wouldn't understand. The media loves you so you don't even need to try," Dick protested. He realized his voice had gotten louder than intended and looked around. Luckily the constant hum of conversation had drowned out most of his voice. He sighed in relief and picked up the cups. "Dude."

"Leave me alone tonight, got it?" he said in a threatening tone before walking off. Roy huffed. Yeah, this was gonna need more than two gingers looking to cause some chaos.

The gala continued until the background music died down and there was a loud tapping. The important men and women looked over at the stage where..."For fuck's sake," Dick whispered. On the stage were Oliver and Bruce with a microphone between them. There was someone in the back who was pulling a face, Dick assumed that someone was the host of the gala. Considering how they were reacting, this wasn't planned. Dick sank into the crowd and wished that he could drink a shot of whatever to get him through the embarrassment that was sure to come. Why did fate hate him so? Did he do some fucked up things in his past life? "Good evening ladies, gentlemen and members of the press," Bruce announced. 

"I'm gonna off myself," Dick muttered. He knew something bad was going to happen tonight. Maybe he could save it if he just got there before they said something dumb. "It's come to our attention that some of you don't like our kids, especially Dick," Oliver said.

"And we'd just like to say," Bruce continued.

"Fuck you!" they exclaimed, putting up their middle fingers. Dick dropped his drink and pushed his way to the front. He box jumped onto the stage, momentarily forgetting that the feat was out of the ordinary, and grabbed the mic from the two men. He put on that polite smile he'd been wearing all night and began herding the men off the stage. "Looks like someone went too hard on the sherry. Could Barry Allen, Wally West and Roy Harper come help get these men some air?" he asked in an awkward tone. The crowd played along and chuckled at the presumed to be drunk men. "Everyone as you were whilst we sort them out. Apologies for the interruption." He put the mic back on its stand and gripped both of the grown men by their wrists. His grip was so tight that it would surely leave bruises but he didn't care. One night. Just one night he needed to be perfect then all the problems would die down for a month at least. He'd be able to breathe without fearing someone would take it wrong. However, now that these idiots decided to have their little outburst he'd have to be perfect at another gala. This would be in the papers too. They'd probably blame him somehow. Say it was his bad upbringing rubbing off on the billionaires or it was the stress of raising a foster kid that made Bruce drink too much and Oliver just went along with it since he had a foster kid too. He dragged the two men outside and impatiently waited for the other culprits of tonight's events to show up. When they did, he shut the door the gala and forced them to walk to the back of the garden so he could pop off without someone overhearing.

Maybe going on stage was a little much but it got the message across. After Bruce found out the odd behavior was because of press pressure, he couldn't stand back anymore. Neither could Oliver. Screw what the media would say whilst they were off-world, Dick would still be on world subject to it. Perhaps they went overboard but it felt so much better to say it then go about it the usual dignified businessman way. They all played a part too so it worked as a little bonding session too. Wally distracted the tech people, Roy kept the host busy with stupid questions and Barry made sure everything was connected and ready. All Oliver and Bruce needed to do were walk up the steps to the stage and not get performance anxiety. They kind of thought Dick would appreciate the show of support but judging by the red growing on his cheeks he was the least bit happy. His hands were balled so tightly that his nails were digging into the palms of his hands. "I can't believe you! One night! One night is all I needed but no you just had to meddle! You-you bunch of meddlers!" Dick yelled. Being perfect was so tiring. He'd been doing it for hours and now he'd have to do it all over again with the added need to make up for this shit show. 

"Hey, we were helping you. You were trying too hard to be this perfect kid that you're not. No one is," Oliver defended.

"None of you get it! I have to try to be perfect because everybody assumes I won't!" His eyes squeezed closed in frustration. Nobody gets it. Nobody understood how harsh the Gotham press was. "I'm the one who has to see the headlines that I'm no good! Every mistake I make is put on a fucking billboard for everyone to see!" His shoulders dropped as tears migrated down his face to their final resting place on the grass. He stared at the floor as the dripped down. "I wanted a break to breathe but now the next story is going to be "Billionaire Bruce Wayne has a mental breakdown because of foster son Dick Grayson." He laughed pathetically at himself. "Just another fuck up I can add to the list right?" Bruce sighed and walked over, pulling the teenager into a hug. He tried to fight it but he couldn't stay angry. He was too tired to. It's not like any of them had any ill will when they did it. They were just trying to help and he was the only one who knew how it would play out. "I'm just tired of it," Dick murmured.

"I'm sorry chum," Bruce said. He ran his fingers through the other's raven locks to calm him down which worked. Maybe it worked a little too well as Dick was now falling asleep on him. He chuckled to himself. "I think we should take our leave."

"Let's blow this popsicle stand!" Wally exclaimed. The younger hardly reacted to the sudden loud noise. 

"But what bout the press?" Dick slurred. The speedsters smirked at one another.

"We can handle that."

"Speedsters show up at charity gala?" Dick readout. The magazine covering the gala had just been released and was now everywhere. He'd seen it on his walk over to Barbara's and she picked it up in interest. "Weren't you there?" she asked. He nodded unsurely. He didn't remember the speedsters showing up as their hero personas that night. In fact, he couldn't remember anything after hugging Bruce. That would explain why his next memory was him waking up in bed. "Huh, guess they spared you this time around," she commented, putting it back down. Dick smiled to himself. He'd have to say thank you when he next saw the pair. 

"Yeah, I guess so."