│September 19th, 2020 – Earth, USA- Missouri, Central City, Downtown, Lawrence Hills: Highway

"What did you just say?" Wally breathed, gobsmacked.

Bart, nonchalantly, introduced himself.

No one spoke up, they all just stared at him in shock.

"Boy, 'the hell do you think you're doing up there?!" One of the men finally spoke.

"Yeah, dontcha' know you coulda' gotten hurt?!" The other man agreed.

"Yeah, man- you're not hurt, right?" Chester wondered, examining Bart.

"How'd you even get up there?!" the other man fumed.

"...T-the portal." Bart said pointing up to nothing.

The four men looked at each other confused.

"The portal?!" The man stressed in disbelief.

"Well, alrighty, mister Bean- You know it's a crime to film one of your 'Ticky-Tockees' on the highway?" The other man pointed out, "The hell is wrong with this generation?"

"Ugh, anyway, I got work- Sorry bout' cha' car, guys." The man expressed, patting Wally's back and walking back to his SUV.

"Exactly, if I were you, I'd have his ass thrown in jail and let his parents pay for damages," The other man suggested, walking back to his minivan, "Stupid, rich-prick offspring." He mumbled, driving away.

"Dude, I said how do you know my name?" Wally pressed on, staring at the boy as Chester helps him get down safely.

"Y-You're Wally West, right?" Bart stammered, looking up at him.

"...Who the hell told you that?" Wally denied.

"I-I'm your nephew." Bart innocently stated sticking his hand out.

"How? I don't even have cousins." Wally bleated, perplexed.

"This feels like an episode of a spinoff Maury." Chester joked, looking between the two; they had similar features that no one could deny.

"Listen, kid- you're gonna be in big trouble if you don't start talking-

"I'm not lying; I really am your nephew!" Bart insisted.

"Chunk, call the cops." Wally instructed as Chester grabbed his cellphone.

"Wallace Rudolph West: Born eleventh November nineteen ninety-eight- you're from a small town called Blue Valley, you lost your father when you were ten years old, you play basketball and juggle in your free time, you won the lottery at eighteen that helped you enroll at Central City University where you currently double-time as a car mechanic married to a reporter named Linda," Bart disclosed as Wally and Chester look at him with mouths gaped in shock, "Oh, and you can also hold your breath for five minutes."

"...Damn- I told you to change that stupid ass password on Facebook, now look." Chester accused, staring at Wally, with his phone to his ear.

"Chester!" Wally fumed, glaring at him.

"Chill, it's ringing- **Hello, I would like to report a..." Chester looks back at the boy, only to see he's gone, "-Dude, where the hell did he go?!"

Wally looked down at nothing- "What the hell?"

They start frantically looking around, anywhere possible...

But nothing. He was gone.

"Oh hell nah- you do not wreck another man's sedan and not pay for damages." Chester exploded.

"That's all you care about? He knows me!" Wally raged.

A faded '****Hello? ****' spoke from Chester's hand as he put the phone back up to his ear.

"**Sorry- We need to report a hit and run along Lawrence Hills Highway.... **" Chester explained, "**...Nah, the guy didn't have a number plate, lemme explain...**" He spoke, walking away from Wally.

Wally examined the badly damaged car and took a deep breath, pulling out his own phone.

He opened up an official Central City app he downloaded the minute they moved there; It offered hiring services around the city- and scrolled down to Tip-Tow-Away; a towing company that charges $200.00 just to tow?! Wally was amazed by the horrible price, but had no choice.

"Linda is so gonna kill me." He sighed, making the online payment.

│Earth, Europe- United Kingdom [England], Manchester, Opening of the new Peregrinator's Club

Linda's phone buzzed as she stood in the elevator with Preston; her intern. She raised it and sighed looking at the notification from the bank- "Really, babe."

"Is that Wally?" Preston smiled in the background. Linda nodded, stuffing the phone in the bodice of her dress.

"Thought I'd be buzzin' about this event," Preston yawned, stretching, "Totally knackered."

"I should be the one complaining; all you have to do is take pretty pictures, I actually have to talk to him." Linda countered, pulling out a wedgie.

"»⠂𝙵𝙻𝙾𝙾𝚁 𝟼𝟽: 𝙳𝙾𝙾𝚁𝚂 𝙾𝙿𝙴𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙶. ⠂«" an automated speaker announces as the elevator doors slowly open.

It was a grand hall, crowded with elegantly-dressed people. Crystal chandeliers spiralled down from the arching ceiling. With a brisk pace, servers moved around the mingling guests, champagne bottle in one hand and hors d'oeuvres in the other. You can definitely tell a party is regal when the entire room has a citral and floral fragrance. But what stood out the most was the music, which reflected exactly what the night would entail:

'Shake It' was one of Preston's favourite songs, so casually, he bopped his head to the beat of it.

"Maybe we were too quick to judge." He smiled.

"What?!" Linda shouts, hearing nothing but the loud music. She then pulls Preston by the arm into a nearby room.

"HEY?!" He complains but she ignores him. Upon entering the room, the first thing that hits Linda's nose is the stench of cigarette smoke. The smoking lounge was silent compared to the main room.

"Ugh." Linda cringed, covering her nose as she noticed three men in the corner.

One of the three men smiled, glancing at Linda's belly- "You here for a smoke, baby?" he taunted as the other men laughed.

Linda rolled her eyes, keeping her focus on Preston.

"Okay, game plan-"

"Again?" Preston groaned, cutting off Linda.

"Well- yeah, you wanna screw it up?" She challenged, "Pres, this is our chance," She pointed at the door, "Bruce Wayne is right through there- I'll interview him; ask him how everything is going back in Gotham, what he's been up to, make him feel all special...blah, blah, blah- and then BAM! You come in," She explains, "Uh Mistah' Wayne am' absolutely chuffed to see you here, what a ledge! Going onto big things aren't yuh bruv?" She imitated to an astonished Preston with a raised brow, "Just make him feel all pretty, then ask about the Wayne foundation and how parts of Manchester don't suppor... or better yet can't afford to provide jobs to its young and elderly dependants," She adds as Preston nods, "Don't forget to mention how your sweet grandma got her pension savings taken by the government and how crazy people like your mother, no offense, shouldn't be the one's providing, okay?"

"First off, that was horribly racist," Preston laughed as Linda smiled, "And I'll try and make it as sappy as possible."

"Good," She approved, fixing her hair and turning to leave, "Don't forget to get my good side."

"Uh, boss?" He faltered as Linda turned back, "Seeing as this is an opportunity I'll probably never get again- Could I pitch my movie idea to him too?"

"What's it about this time?" Linda sighs, crossing her arms.

"This time? My, celebrity-starring, movies are masterpieces." He gushes.

"They never get made though- which is something you should add to your narrative." Linda suggests.

"Through a life of poverty, a chap like me can still have dreams." Preston proposed as Linda nodded.

"Alright, shoot." Linda says as he opens the door for her,

"Okay, it's about a life of a snobby billionaire but behind closed doors the guy's actually a superhero..." Preston explains as they leave.

They walk out and are immediately greeted by a server holding two glasses of champagne up to their faces. Linda awkwardly waves it off as Preston grabs a glass, gulping it down.

"...Like that cringe-inducing live action series from the ninety's; Inferior Five." He ended, looking back to see what she thought.

"I actually kinda liked Inferior Five growing up- I had a Dumb Bunny pencil case and water bottle in high school." Linda recounted.

"Yeah, but my movie will have proper special effects and will be so believable that people will think superheroes actually exist." Preston paraded with a grin.

"Good luck with that- There he is!" Linda noticed, elbowing Preston in the chest.

He stood there, surrounded by the most gorgeous women at the party.

"Okay, so remember: pictures from a distance and the signal for you to come in is when I place my hand on my hip, got it?" Linda reminded as she pulled out a tape recorder from her hair bun, turned it on, and stuffed it back in. She straightened her dress, looking up at Preston- "Now, how do I look?"

"Fit." He complimented as Linda giggled, walking away.

"Should I take some scandalous pictures of Bruce too? Just in case this flops, so we sell them to the highest bidder?" Preston suggested as Linda looked shocked at the audacity, "Just a thought."

"No- And It's 'Mister Wayne'." She corrected.

"Hell no! I'm at this party too, so we're equals tonight." Preston laughed as Linda disappeared into the crowd.

Preston got out his phone and followed.

She approached Bruce, who seemed to be telling quite the story as all the ladies around him were in an uproar. "Um... hello, mister Wayne," Linda spoke-up, tapping his shoulder as he turned around mid-sentence.

He quickly shut his mouth, getting a glimpse of her belly, causing his eyes to widen. The women behind him, peek out too, giving disgusted looks towards Linda.

"...Hi, I'm-

Just then, Linda was interrupted by audio feedback as someone on the main stage tapped on the mic.

"Ahem, Ahem! Is this thing on?" A man began, adjusting the mic in front of him, "DJ, please-" The man instructed, looking up at the DJ, followed by a record scratch. Everyone began to murmur to the abrupt silence as the man cleared his throat, "Thank you...Anyway- Welcome All to the grand opening of the Peregrinator's Club! I am your ost' Adeh: full name, Ademola Yeboah," He introduces as everyone claps, "If yuh' familiar, you can tell by my accent, I reside from Nigeria," He adds, "Yuh' probably asking yourself 'How did this fine boy from Naija find his way to Manchester?" He chuckles as the audience laughs, "Well, my father was Dede Yeboah; the founding member of The Kingdom; a special program devoted to aiding national efforts to improve the health, nutrition, education and general welfare of children suffering in parts of Africa," He explains as people clap and holler, "Yes, he deserves this- I had reached out to Mister Wayne because he knew my father; they had worked together almost ten years ago...I'm surprised he even responded," He joked as the crowd laughed and Bruce shrugged, smiling, "I had moved to Manchester for school... I'm still in school. But being here, I have come to adapt to a new culture and understanding of the environment... it honestly broke my heart. Two years back, I visited Gotham with my mum and we attended an annual event, that my dad would occasionally attend, at the Peregrinator's Club; we met some very interesting people," He stressed at the end as people laughed, "I mean, I'm not saying anything rude about those people; they're all in the crowd today, which is honestly an honour. I just mean it was intimidating to be around such rich brilliant minds with only a High school diploma to my name; I felt like I had nothing to prove." He admitted, rubbing the back of his neck, "I didn't understand what the club was about, I just thought it was a bunch of well-to-do people bragging to their friends about their achievements. But then It was explained to me; at young ages, they all felt the need to venture out of the shadows of their wealthy families and make their own profit, so they created the club as a place for their inner circle to exchange the little they had on their own to create small businesses that, over time, expanded. It was a Loaning Social. And Manchester is my second home; just hearing the amazing things my peers from school want to do but can't because they don't have financial aid, hurts me. I thought, hell, if they can do it, I can do it. I then told Mister Wayne about it and he bought this building and donated it in favour of. Three months later, and here we are." Adeh smiled as Linda swore under her breath, "Big thanks to everyone here tonight. Enjoy the food and drinks. And I know it might seem scary but don't waste your opportunity here, you never know who you're going to meet. Also, membership registration is outside, cheers."

Everyone clapped as Adeh made his way off the stage and the music started to play again.

As a song plays softly in the background, Bruce turns back and looks at Linda, "Sorry?"

"I'm Angela Chen," Linda lies, sticking her hand out, "Of the Daily Planet in Metropolis and also Metropolis Today- I'm a reporter."

"Ah-Yes," Bruce nods, taking another glance at Linda's stomach, "Mrs Chen? I believe I've seen you, but never actually gotten a chance to speak to you. I'm aware of your position at the Daily Planet- I'm a shareholder." Bruce explains, smiling.

"Bruce, care to dance?" A woman stepped out from behind Bruce, wrapping her arms round him.

"Angela, maybe we could continue our conversation on the dancefloor?" Bruce suggested, ignoring the woman.

"Uh-sure." Linda shrugged as the woman glared at her, walking away.

She hooks her arm with his and they walk to the dance floor as she signals for Preston to follow.

"Mister Wayne, I'm warning you now, I'm not much of a dancer." Linda shied away.

"Follow my lead, you'll be fine." He replies as he pushes past people.

"Oh- Uh, hello mister Wayne," A man says as they walk past him, "I-I'm Clark Kent; uh, trainee reporter from Smallville and I wanted to know your thoughts on the recent fluctuati-"

"Ah, yes, enjoy the party!" Bruce Interrupts, not bothering to look back.

Preston, who wasn't so far behind, stops beside Clark and takes a picture of Bruce and Linda.

"Chill out, mate- man's a bellend." Preston says, looking at the picture he just took.

Clark grips the tape recorder in his hands, breaking it in the process. Preston quickly glances at the broken recorder then at Clark in shock.

"Been' trying to get his attention for some time now..." Exasperated Clark as he adjusted his glasses.

Preston still in shock, observes the well-built, tall man- "Bloody hell, you can't be real," He marvelled, looking at Clark's arms, "What's your workout plan?"

Clark sighs, smiling at the question- "Years of farm work: practically 24/7." He lies placing the broken recorder on a nearby table.

"All day? Are you mahd?!" Preston blurts, astonished.

"I got a big farm," Clark shrugs, sticking his hand out to Preston, "Clark Kent; reporter."

"Preston Lindsay; award winning filmmaker," He lies, shaking his hand and then pointing to Linda- "Wifey's bagging a deal with Bruce Almighty over there, just waiting for her to tag me in."

"Really?" Clark doubted, hearing Preston's heart rate increase with his super-senses.

Preston smiled, handing him a business card.

"Well... in my mind." Preston admits, as Clark turns over the 'business card' and sees Preston's Student ID.

"Stay in school, kid." Clark chuckles, handing the card back and walking away.

"Gotta dream big, right?!" Preston grins as Clark nods, "Hit me up in ten years and I'll cast you as a Hitman: CLARK WICK!"

"It would be an honor!" Clark waves, disappearing into the crowd.