Title: Infected
Rating: T
Author: SilverSnikle
Character: Clark
Timeline: Clark Luthor's Seventeenth Birthday
Warnings: Luthor-verse
Disclaimer: Borrowed characters and some dialogue... No affiliation to CW/WB, DC
Summary: My take on Clark Luthor's descent into darkness.
Feedback: Oh, yes please!
_______________________________
- Chapter 2 -
When Clark walks in to his room, the first thing he notices is the garment bag hanging from his floor length mirror. Of course, Lionel has to have control over every aspect of the party, including the birthday boy's wardrobe. Clark sighs and moves to unzip the bag.
Inside he finds a charcoal gray three piece suit, specially tailored for him. Behind the suit is a blood red dress shirt. At least Lionel was letting him wear one of his favorite colors tonight. Clark has always preferred primary colors, but he was rarely allowed to wear them. He let himself smile at the suit. Maybe this year's party would actually be something to enjoy. So far, any birthday party for himself or his siblings had always been a profound engagement, but heartless. Clark would be happy with some close friends and his family sitting around a table with a simple sheet cake. All he really wanted was to feel love from someone other than the devil himself.
Instead, he got expensive gifts and lavish parties full of people he'd never met and didn't care to. He drank wine, though alcohol didn't affect his Kryptonian body, and smiled and shook hands. But he never really had any fun. He wasn't even sure what real fun consisted of, if he were to be honest with himself. The most fun he ever had was debating history. Something told him normal seventeen year-olds didn't do that.
He steps out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist and shaking the excess water from his hair. Clark used a hand towel to wipe the moisture off the mirror before placing a hand on either side of the sink. He stars at his reflection, and leans forward. He knows he has nicely structured features. His full lips are always perfectly pouty and a delicious red. His cheek bones are razor sharp, set high, hollowing out his cheeks beautifully. His skin is like marble, smooth and graceful. His eyes are a see-through jade; his hair, dark as night, falls in soft waves around his face.
Yet, he has no love interest. What seventeen year-old who could be a model for any of the top agencies doesn't have a girlfriend? He laughs mockingly at his own reflection before turning to leave the bathroom. He had seen a beautiful brunette around Smallville a few times. He didn't know her name, but it didn't matter. He could never get near her. She wore a necklace made from piece of green meteorites. Anytime he got closer than five feet to her he felt the pain of it.
Lionel had seen him staring at her once, and informed him her parents had been killed by a meteor the day Clark had landed on Earth. Essentially, he had murdered her parents. Obviously, there was no chance for them. That knowledge didn't stop him from staring at her openly anytime he saw her. Granted, he'd only seen her a handful of times. She worked at a coffee shop on Main Street, so he'd gone there and say in the corner watching her. Lionel had found out and he'd been punished. Evidently, women were not a luxury he was not afforded.
Dressed, Clark sits on the end of his bed. He has a few minutes before he is supposed to meet every one at the helipad. Evidently, Lionel was flying them all to Metropolis for the night. He takes a deep breath and studies his reflection again, this time in the full length mirror. His mind wonders, imagining a world on the other side of his mirror where everything was the opposite of his own world. Maybe, on the other side of the mirror Clark had loving parents and siblings. Maybe, the mirrored Clark even had real friends, not ones that buddied up to him at school out of fear of his family name. He smiles at the mirrored image of himself. Of course, the other Clark would have a girlfriend. In fact, he was probably dating a pretty brunette who works at the Talon.
Standing, he runs a hand down his front, smoothing out his vest. He likes his vests. They are one of the few things about his life he does enjoy. His vests, and Tess. Clark smiles, remembering that he and Tess have plans to seek away from his party at some point to stare at the stars. Clark knows the planet he'd been born on was destroyed moments after his parents had sent him on his journey to Earth. He still likes to stare up at the night sky and imagine what life may have been like on said planet. Tess was the only one who seemed to understand his personal fascination with the night sky.
In Metropolis, Clark walks ahead of his family in to The Avalon. It's the newest club in the city; Lionel had rented out the entire premise for Clark's party. Inside, he scans the club. There are many pretty faces present, but few he recognizes. He looks over his shoulder at Lionel and makes a show of smiling, as wide as his lips will allow, in approval. If Lionel knows it's forced, he doesn't show it.
Inside he finds a charcoal gray three piece suit, specially tailored for him. Behind the suit is a blood red dress shirt. At least Lionel was letting him wear one of his favorite colors tonight. Clark has always preferred primary colors, but he was rarely allowed to wear them. He let himself smile at the suit. Maybe this year's party would actually be something to enjoy. So far, any birthday party for himself or his siblings had always been a profound engagement, but heartless. Clark would be happy with some close friends and his family sitting around a table with a simple sheet cake. All he really wanted was to feel love from someone other than the devil himself.
Instead, he got expensive gifts and lavish parties full of people he'd never met and didn't care to. He drank wine, though alcohol didn't affect his Kryptonian body, and smiled and shook hands. But he never really had any fun. He wasn't even sure what real fun consisted of, if he were to be honest with himself. The most fun he ever had was debating history. Something told him normal seventeen year-olds didn't do that.
He steps out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist and shaking the excess water from his hair. Clark used a hand towel to wipe the moisture off the mirror before placing a hand on either side of the sink. He stars at his reflection, and leans forward. He knows he has nicely structured features. His full lips are always perfectly pouty and a delicious red. His cheek bones are razor sharp, set high, hollowing out his cheeks beautifully. His skin is like marble, smooth and graceful. His eyes are a see-through jade; his hair, dark as night, falls in soft waves around his face.
Yet, he has no love interest. What seventeen year-old who could be a model for any of the top agencies doesn't have a girlfriend? He laughs mockingly at his own reflection before turning to leave the bathroom. He had seen a beautiful brunette around Smallville a few times. He didn't know her name, but it didn't matter. He could never get near her. She wore a necklace made from piece of green meteorites. Anytime he got closer than five feet to her he felt the pain of it.
Lionel had seen him staring at her once, and informed him her parents had been killed by a meteor the day Clark had landed on Earth. Essentially, he had murdered her parents. Obviously, there was no chance for them. That knowledge didn't stop him from staring at her openly anytime he saw her. Granted, he'd only seen her a handful of times. She worked at a coffee shop on Main Street, so he'd gone there and say in the corner watching her. Lionel had found out and he'd been punished. Evidently, women were not a luxury he was not afforded.
Dressed, Clark sits on the end of his bed. He has a few minutes before he is supposed to meet every one at the helipad. Evidently, Lionel was flying them all to Metropolis for the night. He takes a deep breath and studies his reflection again, this time in the full length mirror. His mind wonders, imagining a world on the other side of his mirror where everything was the opposite of his own world. Maybe, on the other side of the mirror Clark had loving parents and siblings. Maybe, the mirrored Clark even had real friends, not ones that buddied up to him at school out of fear of his family name. He smiles at the mirrored image of himself. Of course, the other Clark would have a girlfriend. In fact, he was probably dating a pretty brunette who works at the Talon.
Standing, he runs a hand down his front, smoothing out his vest. He likes his vests. They are one of the few things about his life he does enjoy. His vests, and Tess. Clark smiles, remembering that he and Tess have plans to seek away from his party at some point to stare at the stars. Clark knows the planet he'd been born on was destroyed moments after his parents had sent him on his journey to Earth. He still likes to stare up at the night sky and imagine what life may have been like on said planet. Tess was the only one who seemed to understand his personal fascination with the night sky.
In Metropolis, Clark walks ahead of his family in to The Avalon. It's the newest club in the city; Lionel had rented out the entire premise for Clark's party. Inside, he scans the club. There are many pretty faces present, but few he recognizes. He looks over his shoulder at Lionel and makes a show of smiling, as wide as his lips will allow, in approval. If Lionel knows it's forced, he doesn't show it.
The DJ announces that the party boy has arrived and loud cheers follow. Clark's immediate reaction is to grimace, they cheer for their own vanity, not for him.
The family is escorted toward the balcony. Along the way Clark takes in the decor, all red and black. He notices all the guests are wearing black and white; he's the only person wearing color. Even with his suit jacket and vest covering the majority of his red shirt, Clark knows he stands apart. That had been Lionel's intention, of course. Servers are carrying platters full of either drinks or hors d'oeuvres. Some of the crowd is already dancing, but most guests are clustered in groups around the dance floor at bar-top tables.
There's some excitement at the entrance and Clark's attention is drawn to it. Even from across the dance floor, with the loud music pulsating through the expanse, he is able to focus his hearing on the door. From what he hears it sounds as if an intern at the Daily Planet is trying to get party details for a story. Hearing her say her name is Chloe Sullivan, Clark smiles. Chloe. It sounds like such a nice name. He stores the name away, thinking his mirrored self could use a Chloe in his life.
They step out the glass doors into the warm, crisp night air. The lights strung around the balcony are all glowing red. Clark has a feeling the red decor will make much more sense as the night wears on. Lionel didn't choose the color of blood simply because it was one of Clark's favorites.
"Well, Son. I know the night is young yet, but what do you say to opening a few presents now?" Lionel's grin reminds Clark of a hungry lion. Fitting, Lionel the Lion. He laughs at his own joke, knowing no one else has any insight into his giggles.
"Well, sure, Father." Clark attempts to grin like a lion back at him. He knows he's failing, but grins wider at his little joke.
"Great! Let's start with Lutessa's." Lionel waves a hand and a suit brings Clark his first present. Clark grins at his sister. Lionel is saving what he perceives as 'the best' for last, but Clark is most excited about Tess's gift.
No comments:
Post a Comment