Hello everyone! I started writing this little story a week ago because I wanted to explore the more gangster-esque side of Jared Leto's Joker. More of a modernized classic Joker, if you will. Which also means I'll be exploring other sides of characters within the franchise as well as altering a few scenes that pertain to Suicide Squad. I did add a few OC's. This includes an OC love interest. WHICH ENTAILS Joker and OC romance, if I can't make it anymore clear. So if that's not your thing, then please, kindly skip this story. :)

However, if you want to ride out this rollercoaster with me as it delves deep into certain madness, then by all means, buckle up and R&R!

Also, I was heavily inspired to write this while listening to a lot of Lana Del Rey. For fun, I added lyrics from her music in each chapter to kind of secretly sum up the chapters in a way.

Enjoy, thank you!

Disclaimer: I own nothing other than my own characters.

"There's only 24 hours in a day
And half of those, you lay awake
With thoughts of murder and carnage

If you lie down with dogs, then you'll get fleas
Be careful of the company you keep"

-Lana Del Rey, "24"

"It's a packed house tonight, Miss Pendragon."

Arnie, an assigned but faithful bodyguard of mine, commented on the crowd that awaited me.

I had just finished powdering my face, finishing the fine details of my eyes. "It's Miss Butterfly to you. You know that, Arn." I laughed inwardly.

The corner of his lips upturned into a small smile, "Yes, MISS Butterfly." his left hand adjusted on his revolver that I knew was in his holsters. "They seem a little rowdy tonight."

"Hmm," I shut my powder case. "They're men. What's more to be expected?"

Arnie let a low chuckle escape his lips. He had been around long enough to know who and what I was referring to. I needn't worry about offending him. While men could be kind and generous, ninety-eight percent were wolves. I smiled to myself.

"Any trouble, you just call me."

Pursing my lipstick to my lips I let out a small laugh, "Of course."

I put it on knowing very well that I could handle my own. However, it was comforting knowing that someone else was so dedicated to protecting me. Protecting profit. Protecting Angelo's profit.

Angelo Rouse was Gotham's rising kingpin. He was the owner of the highly successful night club and a top distributor in the cocaine ring currently circulating the city. You needed a fix, he'd help you out. He'd help out a lot of people. Which also got a lot of people in trouble.

Angelo's best trait was his welcoming warm, brown eyes. He'd coo you into a sense of trust and dependability. You'd tell him all of your secrets not knowing that the trust you thought you built was only ever one sided.

Rouse's number one rule, "Never trust a junkie." I whispered to myself as I finished my wine glass.

He was smarter than that, manipulative. But his worst trait? He was unforgiving. The things he'd do to people who betrayed him, or owed him. It sent shivers down my spine.

He's the reason why I am where I am today.

"Showtime." Arnie motioned a thumb toward the stage steps.

I took one last hard gaze at myself in my vanity. My make-up was perfect. Dainty, pink lips. Flushed cheeks. Pink and purple eyes. My summer blonde hair all tied up with purple flowers.

I popped my lips. Tonight's first show was Lady Eliza's floral burlesque. She was a brilliant cannonball flower and I, a common lilac amongst the other lilacs. Her costume's fiery orange and yellow hues shined like a beacon center stage. As it should, she was the burlesque star after all.

Her fluid dance moves mesmerized the sea of hungry guppies. Night after night I'd watch their mouths flop at a twist of the heel, a turn of the hip, a bat of a lash. She was a master and she had aimed to teach me a thing or two.

"Olive," she'd start, lighting up a cigarette. "Men don't want a woman who's soft. Nor a woman who's too hard."

I was utterly confused at the time, "So what do they want?"

She brought those big, green eyes up to mine with a smile touching each. "A fantasy."

"A fantasy?"

"Something that ain't real, doll."

I rested my chin on my folded hands, "Well how do you suppose they suspect to obtain that?"

She laughed at my innocence. "They don't." She pointed a finger at me. "It's your job to make them believe they even have the chance. Be a butterfly; beautiful to the eye but if you try to pick one up, your greasy fingers muss the wings and it can never fly the same again." She came closer, lowering her voice. "Eventually, it'll die."

A crooked smile graced Lady Eliza's face now as she puffed on her cigarette, "It's impossible to keep."

I remember grinning widely back at her, finally understanding what she meant. However, that's not the reason why they called me "The Butterfly". I let my fingers slide gently onto the sides of my corset, tracing the outlines of my various balisongs. My precious knifes.

I loved how simple and concealable they were. How sharp they could be. Easy for throwing…or carving.

The curtain began to open and my face changed immediately from pleasure to a seductive, lopsided grin. The lights were so bright on the small stage you could barely make anybody out. Though I couldn't see them well, I knew the men were drooling from their lips. My ears filled with hooting and hollering.

We began our dance, two other girls and I. Our job was to warm the audience up with our color corresponding feather fans. A dip of the shoulder, the reveal of a leg. The men loved this stuff.

Now by the time Lady Eliza burst through in her bright costume, all eyes were drawn on her. She'd grab their attention with flexible moves and a slow shed of clothes. She'd tease them with a hesitant strip, appearing to be removing one article of clothing only to decide against it at the very end. It drove them mad and even madder when she actually discarded it.

Burlesque and stripping were two very different fields, however. There is no full on nudity in burlesque shows. Its what kept them coming back for more. The allure to see something that they could only piece together with their imaginations. I couldn't blame their love for Lady Eliza. She was popular.

Tonight seemed different though. When the girls and I started our warm up performance I couldn't help but feel as if a pair of eyes were boring holes into my skin. With every twirl a flash of blue caught my eye.

Even when Lady Eliza preformed and I flowed in the background, that blue remained focused on me. Baby blue, to be exact. I span again trying to level my eyes with the ones watching me.

From the stage was a little octagon pit with smaller tables and chairs for those who could throw away a little comfort for some up close and some times personal entertainment.

The steps leading upwards from the octagonal pit brought you to the main floor with full size tables, booths, and bars. It was a much more open area for those who could sacrifice a little up close and personal time for a much more accommodating view.

That's where he was.

I dipped my head down and up for a second then brought my attention back to him. A thrill shook my heart as I attached those baby blues with the rest of his shocking physique. His skin was literally white, as if no one had told him his whole life you were suppose to bathe in water, not bleach.

It certainly didn't help his choice of hair color either. The electric green neatly slicked back on his head. His eye color was the softest thing about him.

Lady Eliza was nearing the end of her dance and not once did she ever catch his eye. No matter how many times I hid myself behind my fan, his eyes were still there. He almost had me convinced there was something on my face or my hair was falling out of place.

The girls and I slowly started our retreat back behind the curtains so that Lady Eliza could finish up her show. I watched his hand he had curled in front of his mouth clench a little with each of my backwards steps. I couldn't piece together what that was all about but once I was behind the curtains I felt a wave of relief wash over me.

My legs were like jello as I dragged myself to my vanity. I stared intently on my features while I removed my heavier make-up. Nothing was out of place. Nothing was smeared, the pins were all still perfect in my hair. Could he have really been that fascinated with me?

Why?

I heard an uproar of whistling and clapping as Lady Eliza made her re-entry behind the curtain. She was all smiles probably thinking that, again, she'd dazzled them all…but I knew the truth. All except one.

I adjusted myself on my seat. It wasn't that important to even bother her with it. What was one man? A dime a dozen. I wasn't even entirely sure why I was bothering myself with it.

"On in ten, Butterfly." Arnie echoed from my right.

I suddenly picked up the pace. I put on much lighter eye make-up, outlining my upper lids like a cat. I kept my cheeks subtle but rosy and chose a much more darker shade for my small lips. The maroon filled in the lack of make-up elsewhere. It brought attention to my mouth.

I unclipped the flowers from my hair and let it cascade past my shoulders. Running my fingers through, I scrunched my hands at the crown to help give me a little lift. Then I sprayed it in place for the rest of the night.

Satisfied, I went to go slip on my long, silver dress. It was one of my favorite pieces and most expensive, might I add. The fabric was soft and easy to move in despite that it hugged every curve.

Angelo had bought it for me for my first real gig at the night club. He said a girl like me should glimmer, so he made the dress sparkle. When I tried it on to make sure the measurements were right, he gawked, saying it fit me so well because it matched my personality.

Maybe, I thought. Maybe on the outside.

I did a little spin in the mirror and popped my lips again.

"Showtime." Arnie grinned as I came to the steps.

"Angelo out there?" I asked as I adjusted the strapless top of the dress. I caught Arnie's eyes shift for a second.

He met mine instantly, remembering his place. "No ma'am. Poker night."

"Hmm, he'd be upstairs then."

"Mmm."

I sighed, I guess this was another performance he'd miss. Not that it mattered much, it was just nice when he caught me and would praise me. Everyone did, but Angelo's were genuine.

I slowly stepped onto the stage for the second time tonight. The room was silent as my heels clicked toward the microphone. My grey eyes drifted to my right, catching the band queue up. Then slightly north-west of myself. Being predominantly a solo act the spotlight was on me. No other bright lights to ignite the stage.

I saw him. Even though the room was darker, I saw him. He was in the same seat still. Same gaze. Same curl of the fingertips. I felt my stomach knot.

Quickly, I averted my eyes back to the band. They were ready to go so I nodded my head and the music began to ring out from the side of the stage. I would open with a cover of "Blue Velvet" to familiarize the audience with my tone before starting up with any of my originals.

The song went pretty well despite the fact that the captivating man in the audience never wavered. Not even to take a sip of his drink. How long had he been like that? He was making me feel so uneasy.

It was when my number ended and everyone began clapping, that it happened. His hand moved from his ghostly face to join the other, clapping too. A slow, drawn out clap. I could make out his face a little more clearly now.

He had a squared jaw line with deep set eyes. He looked as if he hadn't slept for days. The next peculiar thing about him were his lips. They were a deep red. Was that lipstick? I couldn't be too sure. It looked way too unnaturally natural. If that made any sense.

My head started to feel light as the band cued my next and last song for the hour. As I began, the man appeared to relax along with my notes. He leaned back into the leather of the booth, his right hand now curved around his neglected drink. His strange mouth widened to a toothless smile.

I tried my best not to look directly into his blue hues, finding it difficult. I was drawn to him. From fifty feet away, he commanded my attention. And I was suppose to be the entertainer!

Throughout the entire song he continued his piercing gaze. His mouth had softened and every now and then he'd actually take a few sips of his drink. But his eyes never blinked nor wavered. I felt like I was being analyzed or assessed or something.

He smiled again. My heart panicked as I realized I had been staring right back at him. My eyes caught the floor as I finished up my song. Suddenly, my palms felt sweaty. I heard the crowd roar with applause and I looked back up. This time he wasn't clapping. Our eyes indefinitely caught. He had the edge of his glass to his slightly open mouth and let the liquid slowly crawl down his throat. I felt my breath hitch for a second. I was suddenly very thirsty.

I forced myself to blink to break the connection, coming to realize I had been licking my lips. My face felt hot with embarrassment. What was I even doing anymore? I took a quick leave off the stage.

Arnie was the first to notice, naturally. "You alright, Miss Pendragon?"

"BUTTERFLY, Arnie. You know that!" I snapped, hastily walking back to the safety of my vanity.

He threw his hands up before him, making defensive motions. "Woah, woah. Take it easy, doll."

I was staring vacantly at my reflection, "I'm not in the mood, Arn."

He huffed under his breath, "Okay, fine. I'm going to go get a drink. Your next show is in an hour." And with that he walked out of the backstage area.

I laid my forehead in my hands, rubbing my temples. I had to get a hold of myself. What was even the big deal?

"Olive?" I felt my whole body stiffen as a pair of hands slid over my shoulders.

"You look a little rough, sweetheart." It was Angelo.

I lifted my head up so he could plant a kiss on my neck. "I'm fine, Angelo. Just a bit of a headache. Maybe too much wine." I joked.

He gave a faint smile before letting out a big sigh. His hands fell from my shoulders as he walked to take a seat next to me. "I guess this is bad timing, then."

My eyes had been following him the whole time. I frowned, "What do you mean?"

He elevated his foot on one of the rungs at the bottom of the seat, resting an arm on top of it. "Well," he looked to the floor then me. "I've got quite the favor to ask ya."

His eyes seemed to grow darker thinking about this favor. My hands clenched on my vanity desk. "Well, it can't be that bad." I forced a smile.

Angelo's strong features were not amused. He leaned back in the chair now, running a hand through his slicked back hair. "I'm hoping not. I'm hoping it's nothing."

He seemed a little nervous. He was hardly ever nervous and that scared me. I pursed my lips and reached out a hand to his cheek. He wrapped his fingers around it and held it there for a moment before gently pushing it aside. My stomach was churning. He looked more than just nervous, he looked scared.

"Listen baby doll, I have a special request for you."

"Yes, I know, what is it?"

He shook his head, "No, I mean someone has personally requested you."

I felt like I was going to throw up and yet, part of me didn't feel surprised. I had an inkling of who it was. "Any particular reason?" I gazed off to the side of me, my mind running a mile a minute.

"He doesn't need one." Angelo scoffed. Now I felt disgust flow off of him as he got up. "He does as he pleases with no rhyme or reason."

Angelo dipped his right hand into his pocket to pull out a shimmering black bow. He walked up to me and placed it in my hair, letting his hands slid to either side of my face. Holding a gaze, he whispered, "I promised to protect you, and that's what I'll do. But if you have anything to do with The Joker-"

I snorted, partly offended, partly amazed. "Is that who that sickly man is? With the green hair and the red lips?"

"One in the same." Angelo raised a brow.

"Well gosh, I've heard stories about him. Never seen him though."

Angelo removed his hands, "Yeah, well, he's been on the run from The Bat for some time so I can't imagine he gets out much for pleasure."

"Or locked up in Arkham. My neighbor is a nurse there." I stood up now, touching the bow in my hair. "She's told me awful things."

Angelo's strong fingers returned to my shoulders. "And every word is true!" He shook me slightly, "Remember that."

I nodded and he urged my hand away from the bow in my hair. "It looks good on ya. Don't mess with it." he forced a smile.

My gut was screaming. Something just felt terribly wrong. Joker may have been an infamous gangster but it was nothing that Angelo couldn't handle. He must have known setting up shop in Gotham City would attract that kind of customer at some point, right? There was definitely more going on here but he already looked so distressed. I decided to leave it for now. Do as he says.

He looped his arm in mine as we began our walk to the clown's table. The hand he had entwined with my own started to sweat. I gave him a little reassuring squeeze.

He smirked, whispering, "Listen baby doll, do as he says to whatever extent you can. I'll be watching you from my office upstairs."

I sharply inhaled. My nerves were trying to get the best of me. Angelo watched me for a moment before continuing. "Play it cool. I know you can."

He gave me a squeeze this time. "I tried to find out what interest he had in you but he was very evasive."

"I don't know him, but that doesn't seem surprising." I whispered back.

Angelo rolled his jaw. "Yeah, well, he didn't even know your name. He asked me but I told him you preferred to go by your stage name, Butterfly."

I tensed a little, "And he was okay with that?"

"I dunno. He laughed, but then again he laughs at pretty much everything. Didn't ask anymore questions."

Suddenly, I felt a lump in my throat. Our stroll had come to a permanent stop. There he was, The Joker himself. He was in-between quite a large group of his men that I had apparently not noticed before.

He had his hands clasped around a glass of liquor with a gun laid out on the table. Probably the most normal thing I'd seen so far about him. Besides those eyes. They were staring right into my soul.

I finally exhaled the breath I had been unknowingly holding, my body starting to tremble. All the possibility of the things he could want of me were endless. I had heard this man had no boundaries.

Angelo's second squeeze brought me back to the present and he introduced us. "This is our beautiful Butterfly. As you requested."

Angelo glanced my way and all I could do was smile.