'God, what a pain in the ass.'
Athena Blackwell scanned the bustling airport with a cool, calculating gaze. Flying alone to the United States wasn't difficult—not for her. Nothing ever truly was. She had always been capable.
What was difficult, however, was the throbbing headache still lingering from her last argument with her biological parents. Not that arguments were anything new.
When it came to them, life felt less like parent and child, and more like an unhappy marriage she never agreed to be part of. Their idea of a "perfect daughter" was someone soft and kind—but what they truly meant was obedient. A girl who lowered her head and smiled through every injustice, who accepted that her voice didn't matter, who believed that women should always remain beneath men in value and opinion.
Athena may have been young, but she wasn't clueless.
She saw through the lies and the oppressive beliefs. She grew up in that fire, and rather than let it consume her, she forged herself into something unbreakable. She'd rather be hated than be someone who lived by "kissing ass." More importantly, she had a sister, five years younger, who needed someone to shield her from the same toxic upbringing.
If not for her sister, Athena's life would have looked very different five years ago.
Now fifteen, Athena Blackwell was far from ordinary. She absorbed knowledge like oxygen—body language, psychology, medical basics, legal loopholes, survival tactics—whatever she needed to stay ahead. She was, by all accounts, an oddball. But she was exceptional at everything she set her mind to.
She wasn't naive. She knew how and who to trust, and when necessary, she could be cold, even ruthless. Smiles were rare, reserved only for formal events or when social strategy demanded them.
Back in her home country, she was well-known, with a wide social circle. Yet within that circle, only one person earned her unwavering trust.
Athena was open-minded, self-taught, and fiercely protective of her own safety.
Her goal in life? Simple. To be rich.
And not the mediocre kind of rich. Not a petty millionaire. No—Athena aimed for billionaire status.
Life could throw whatever it wanted at her. Sure, she might complain—that was just the human in her—but she always figured things out. Always.
So when it came to flying halfway across the world alone, she was perfectly fine. She handled documents, tickets, and procedures with the ease of someone far older. In fact, she looked and carried herself with such maturity that people often mistook her for someone in her twenties—a young woman who clearly knew what she was doing. And she did.
Athena knew her parents had never approved of her traveling alone to the United States, but they eventually gave in after reaching an agreement. The deal was simple: if Athena successfully graduated in the U.S. and secured permanent residency, she could move her family there too. To her parents, this was a promise of a better future. To Athena, it was merely a bargaining chip.
She didn't care about their conditions—so long as she got her end of the deal, they could think whatever they wanted. She had already done her part, preparing her younger sister for the world they lived in. Athena made sure her sister understood the cracks in their parents' outdated ideology, teaching her how to get what she needed and never settle for less.
Athena had a few very distant relatives scattered across the U.S., but none near Gotham. And even if there were, she had no intention of relying on them. She'd lied to them, saying Wayne Manor had already organized her transportation.
In truth, she had arranged it all herself. She made the necessary calls to Wayne Manor, calmly explaining her situation. Surprisingly, they agreed without much hassle. Alfred, the butler, had been almost too polite on the phone, and when Athena mentioned her relatives were far away, they immediately offered to handle everything. It wasn't hard to tell that Mr. Wayne—desperate for a little noise in his massive, empty home—had been all too happy to accommodate her.
And so, here she was, standing in the airport terminal, pressing the dial button on the number Wayne Manor had provided for her to call upon landing.
"Hello? Is this Miss Athena Blackwell?"
The voice on the other end was deep, polished, and unmistakably British.
"Yes," Athena replied coolly, adjusting her backpack strap.
"Ah, wonderful. My name is Alfred Pennyworth," the man continued, his tone warm but carrying the crisp edge of refinement. "I am the butler of Wayne Manor. Master Wayne asked me to personally welcome you and ensure your safe journey here. I trust your flight was pleasant?"
Athena glanced around at the chaos of the airport—parents wrangling crying toddlers, couples rushing for baggage, businessmen barking into phones—and suppressed a smirk. Pleasant? Hardly.
"It was fine," she replied evenly, her tone betraying nothing. "Where should I meet you?"
"Ah, no need to trouble yourself, Miss Blackwell," Alfred's voice carried a calm certainty, the kind that belonged to someone who always knew more than they let on. "I've already anticipated your arrival. I'm parked just outside the arrivals terminal. Might I ask which exit you're closest to, so I can pull the car around?"
Athena blinked, momentarily caught off guard. She glanced at the number on the nearby exit gate and answered, "Gate 4. Near the yellow taxi line."
"Perfect," Alfred said, as if she had confirmed something he already knew. "I'll be there in two minutes. You'll recognize the car."
The call ended with his precise efficiency, leaving Athena momentarily staring at her phone before she slid it into her pocket. Of course, he was already here. She shouldn't have expected anything less from someone working for Bruce Wayne.
Five minutes later
A black, polished Rolls-Royce Phantom glided smoothly into view, as though it had no business being near the chaos of the airport but chose to grace it with its presence anyway. The car stopped exactly where she stood, no inch forward or back wasted.
The door opened and a tall, impeccably dressed man stepped out. Alfred Pennyworth was just as she had imagined—composed, distinguished, and with an air of quiet authority that made even the bustling airport crowd unconsciously give him space.
"Miss Blackwell," Alfred greeted, inclining his head with a subtle but courteous bow. "I trust you've managed without trouble?" His eyes flicked over her single suitcase and backpack, an efficient assessment that somehow felt neither intrusive nor casual.
Athena nodded, maintaining her cool demeanor. "I travel light."
"Excellent habit," Alfred remarked approvingly, taking her suitcase with practiced ease and stowing it in the trunk. "Master Wayne will be pleased to know you're punctual."
"Master Wayne?" Athena echoed, raising an eyebrow.
"Ah, yes. Bruce Wayne," Alfred confirmed with a faint but knowing smile. "The benefactor behind your scholarship. He is... looking forward to meeting you." His tone was polite, but Athena caught the subtle pause—something in his voice that sounded almost amused.
Athena tilted her head slightly, watching him as she slid into the plush backseat of the car. "Is that so?"
Alfred shut the trunk with a soft click and moved to the driver's seat, his posture as straight as if he were in a military parade. "Oh, quite. I daresay you might be the first young lady to ever truly surprise him."
.
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―1213 words.