"Does it depress you? To know just how alone you are?"
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"Shut that fuckin thing off." Alex is shoved awake from sleep by the man next to her in bed, a grimy man named James, who comes over to have sex with her sometimes. And she lets him. Her ears then register her blaring cellphone in her nightstand. She sits upright too quickly, head spinning. Her eyes land on the clock on her nightstand, reading 1:33 in the morning. She messily grabs the cellphone, where the name Jim Gordon flashes across the screen. She swipes across the screen to answer and puts the phone to her ear.
"Someone better be dead." Her voice is scratchy and dazed, eyes adjusting to the darkness of her bedroom.
"Jesus Christ Flores, don't answer the phone like that. That's literally the only reason why I'd be calling at this hour." Gordon sounds slightly annoyed, a bit defeated even.
"Sorry. The late call threw me off." She had been overworked to the bone, and just wanted a full night's rest. For once. Spending her last few months helping citizens of Gotham after the floods. Taking care of smaller, civilian crimes, which were unfortunately skyrocketing. If that was even possible in a city like this.
"I know, my bad. The guys called me not long ago, there's been a homicide. But they made it seem dramatic. I didn't get many details." He explains, voice staticy through the phone speaker. Alex's eyes trail down to the man laying on the other side of her bed, wishing he was anywhere else but here. She stupidly found herself calling him after she had a bit too much to drink the night prior.
"Where?" She steps out of bed, the sound of her feet padding on the cool laminate floor filling her bedroom. She shuts her bedroom door behind her. The cool, dry air in her apartment wraps around her like an icy envelope. Gordon explains how a body was found behind the Dark Side bar and that the responding officers could only describe it as gruesome. 'Of course homicide would be gruesome, are they stupid?' Her brain starts to wonder why it's just so bad. Living in Gotham was dark on its own; add in the heavy crime rate and crazy people lurking in the shadows. It isn't peachy, not one bit.
"And they really need us there? Are they scared of a little blood?" She scoffs. Her free hand toys with a small carton of cigarettes she left on her kitchen counter. Her body was buzzing for a drag at the moment.
Some more shuffling is heard on Gordon's end. "Who knows. If we show up and there's nothing special, I'll give them hell. And I know you will too." Gordon replies. She nods although he can't see her.
"I'll see you soon." The phone call ends quickly. She inhales deeply, and releases it before walking cautiously to her bedroom, to kick out the man in bed. After quite the yelling match, some insults thrown her way, him kissing her against the wall roughly, she shoves James out the door, and manically begins to collect herself. Running a brush through her hair, pulling on her trusty black slacks and button up, slinging her badge around her neck, she was ready to go see what all the fuss was about.
