Passion

                                    

                                          
Before you reach the Tower, Sabrina texts you an address of a pizzeria near her place. She sends pictures of how empty it is as well. "We can go here," You say as you show it to Bruce who glances at your phone quickly as he continues to drive. "Put in the address." He reluctantly gives in as the light turns red.
You glance back at Richard who looks up at the clouds and skyscrapers. "We're gonna go get some pizza." You smile warmly at him. He shrugs, still staring up. You hope Sabrina invites Ximena.
The pizzeria is in midtown, sharing neighbors with the corner store and a CBD pharmacy with a handwritten sign that reads "Drops not sold here!" Bruce's jaw remains tight as he finds a parking spot. There are not that many people at the moment, just a skateboarder down the way, a grandma and her grandchild on their front stoop, and a dog barking somewhere. "Sal's Pizzeria. Who is Sal?" Richard asks loudly.
"I don't know. Maybe the owner." You answer as you pull out your phone to text Sabrina. Bruce doesn't waste time, rushing you two in. 
The place needs an update, but from what you can tell, it's been kept with the blackish brown tiles on the floor to resemble some sort of rustic brick that continues halfway up the walls. There's a burgundy linoleum trim above that breaks it up before going the dark green painted wall with framed pictures on almost inch, save for the two large flatscreens above the little bar area that play college basketball and football. The pictures are mostly black and white or faded colors. The tables have a green and white plasticky tablecloth with black metal framing and red upholstery in the same laminated texture as the tablecloth. You half expect them to be cracked with the white cotton beneath peaking through showing their age, but it looks like they've been worked on and renewed. The booths along the wall are black with maple wood underneath.
Sabrina is already seated towards the back with two women: her partner and Ximena. You're personally excited to see them, hoping this is some sort of peace offering when a young woman comes out from the back hearing the bell at the door. Her dark hair is pulled back into a thick ponytail and she's got freckles all over her face with big brown eyes framed by dark lashes. You're slightly jealous of her length, not seeing makeup on her as she tightens her apron.
"Sorry about the wai-" Her face pales when she notices Bruce's shadowy figure behind you and Richard. She almost skitters away back into the kitchen. Richard crosses his arms. "Do we have to order first or can we go sit with Sabrina?" He asks, turning to look at you.
You shrug as a louder voice booms from the back, "What do you mean you saw Bruce Wayne? You're crazy!"
Bruce runs his hand over his face, exhaustion over every crevice. You reach for his hand, doubting the man in the back would be like the parents on the field. He sounds more in shock and disbelief. You're not near the Tower or anywhere Bruce would usually go.
The man comes out, round and stubbly and balding at the top with two younger men behind him. They're similar in build, tall and lean with thick hair too like the girl. Family business. You guess the man is Sal as he peers at Bruce harshly, snapping reading glasses on his face to see clearly before taking them off. "I'm losing my mind because you can't be Bruce Wayne." There are two other patrons besides Sabrina's family who all now look towards the front, nothing aggressive, however. You do notice Sabrina watching. Still on it even in front of her family.
"I am, I hope that's okay," Bruce says, putting his hands up. The man laughs, shaking his head. "Do you need directions I'm pretty sure you're lost!" He turns to his sons, "What is going on today?" The taller guy shrugs, while the younger one sheepishly looks at you and Richard. "I saw what happened on Tiktok. Sorry about your game lil bro."
Richard turns beet red as he shoots his eyes down to the floor. "Thanks, I guess." He mutters.
"We'd like to eat here if that's okay. We'll pay like everyone else." You say, leaning forward on the counter as Bruce tries not to scowl at the man. "We just want to have a pizza party for our s-s-son." You stammer the last part. It sounds natural in your mind, but it also sounds odd as it left your mouth as you tried to stop it.