If You Just Listened // Arthur Fleck x Reader // SLOWBURN

Chapter 16 - You're Drunk.

You and Owen sat uncomfortably close, your knees to your chests under the bar. You looked up at Lucy, desperate to stand and stretch your legs.

"Now?"
"Not yet," she whispered back.

You groaned, pressing your forehead to your knees.

"This doesn't seem worth it," you mumbled.
"Shh!" Owen hissed, tilting his head upwward. He stuck his ear out as much as he could, listening intently.

Finally, the sound of jingling keys came.

"Night Mike!" exclaimed Lucy. A few others in the closing crew also bid him goodbye.

As usual, Mike grumbled his barely understandable response before making his way out.

There was dead silence, Lucy waited until she heard the exterior door close.

"ALRIGHT, THE COAST IS CLEAR," she called out.

You and Owen stood up, your back stinging from your uncomfortable position. You looked around, watching as staff members crawled out from every possible hiding spot in Pogo's. It was a sight to behold.

Everyone gathered around the bar, holding out their empty glasses. It was restock day. Finally, after all the excitement, it had arrived. You were almost beginning to think it was a myth, that the day would never come. But once you saw the crate of brand new bottles of booze, you knew tonight was the night.

As each crew member's shift ended, they hid within Pogo's - behind curtains, under tables, and in your case - beneath the bar. The plan was to wait after closing until Mike left, then everyone would take part in all the old bottles of liquor. You heard some pretty exciting tales of previous restockings, and you hoped to create some of your own tonight.

Everyone's cup was full, and the air was full of excitement. After filling yours, you joined Owen and Lucy for your first drink of the night.

"Cheers guys," you began, raising your cup to theirs.
They clinked their glasses to yours, downing the drinks with ease. You tried to do the same, but your face involuntarily twisted from the bitterness of the alcohol.

"Such a rookie," Owen mumbled, rolling his eyes.
"She'll get used to it," Lucy responded, lightly shoving his arm.

You didn't say anything, swirling a remaining drop of rum around in your glass. You were happy, but sad at the same time. You felt like you were finally part of the Pogo's crew, just one of the team doing their part, another member of the club. You looked around at the faces around you. Everyone was smiling and laughing. Even some of the comedians snuck in to take part in the celebration. It was nice. But was it that nice?

Your eyes drifted to the ground.

You were beginning to think your steps to success in Gotham would be fruitless. You didn't seem to be any closer to stardom than when you arrived. And even if you were, it didn't matter much to you anymore. Seeing what you've seen, focusing on becoming famous felt like such a superficial desire. Gotham was a sick place. The streets were filthy. The people were struggling to survive. Those with the power to help didn't seem to help at all. They fed off the poor and weak. Is that what you wanted to become? A leech?

You thought about your night at the hospital with Arthur.

Arthur was unemployed now. His mother was ill. He barely ate. It's like he'd awoken a sense of duty in you that you had never felt before. You wanted to help him. You wanted to help people like him. Before you came here, the only person you truly cared about was yourself. Your clothing. Your makeup. Your future in fame. Your sheltered life had brought you here, to this state of mind. You had never known financial hardship.