Sitting in front of a mirror in the changing room, Arthur Fleck could not bring a smile to his face. His job as a clown was not easy, and with his mental illness taking over him, it was only getting harder everyday. No matter how many times he donned the clown makeup and funny costume, he always seemed to put on the theatrical facade of a grin to make people happy. Ever since he was a small boy, his mother told him he had a purpose: to bring laughter and joy into people's lives. As he sat there mopping at his own miserable self, the depressed Arthur pulled back the corners of his mouth with his fingers and managed to form something of a decent smile on his face. It was only when the tear leaked out of the bottom of his eye that he decided to give up. He released the forced smile and folded his arms on the vanity and buried his head into them, sighing deeply. But he did not have much time to mope. It was almost time to start the day. He had a job to do, and the only way he could get through it was to put on a happy face.

Once the day was done, Arthur went back to his workplace and took off his clown outfit and removed his makeup and changed back into his regular clothes. Throwing his jacket on, he turned his attention to a small man in clown makeup and a blue wig standing next to him.

"See you later, Gary", said Arthur.

The small man, named Gary, took off his clown wig and turned to his coworker and said, "Good night, Arthur. Say hello to your mother for me." He spoke with a British accent.

With everything said and done, Arthur walked out of the locker room and existed his workplace for the day. The moment he stepped outside, Arthur pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and got one out and lit it. He had been waiting the last half hour for a smoke and he needed something to help calm his jittery nerves. Today had not been one of his worst days, but there had been an unfortunate incident that caused him to have a laughing fit while entertaining a group of children at a little girl's birthday party. He waited at the bus stop for about ten minutes before the next bus arrived. He took the ride back home and got off some five blocks away from his apartment.

Arthur walked down the street as the sky began to darken. The sound of sirens and people shouting fell deaf on his ears. By now, he was used to it. It was Gotham City, after all. The rich thrived and prospered, and the poor were suffering and struggling constantly from one day to the next. The air was foul and the vicious stench of excrement was evident. There were multiple bags of garbage and filth on the sidewalks. It was impossible to think how anyone could live in a place like that. The Dark Ages were not as bad. The citizens were no different. Everyday, people walked by each other in the streets, shouting and fighting. Never stopping to say hello or even acknowledge those around them, let alone bothering to show a little kindness to a stranger. In Gotham, it was every man for himself.

He came at last to his final task of the day: walking up the towering stairs to his apartment. He always hated this part. Everyday, Arthur would walk up those same steps and feel as though the weight of the world were baring down on his shoulders. It was much more easier walking down them, though he didn't know why. Reaching the topmost step and having accomplished his journey, Arthur walked down another block until he came to the building that was his home.

Just as he stepped into the building, Arthur went over and checked the mailbox with the name P. Fleck on it. There was nothing in it. He should have known. He didn't know why he checked it everyday, but his mother had high hope of receiving a letter from famous billionaire, Thomas Wayne. Thirty years ago, she worked for him, and any day now, she was expecting to hear from him. Arthur didn't understand why it was so important to her, but because of his love for his mother, he made the effort of checking the mail to be his last thing to do on his daily routine before retiring to his apartment.

Arthur walked over to the elevator and stepped inside. He pushed the button to go up and the doors started to close, but then stopped about halfway. Arthur tilted his head back, staring up at the ceiling. This wasn't surprising to him. Nothing in the apartment complex ever worked properly anymore. Still, it was his home. The elevator door soon closed all the way and took him up to the floor he needed to go. With a ding, the elevator door opened. Arthur stepped out and went down to the door where his apartment was and got the keys out from his pocket. He was just about to stick them into the keyhole, but then he heard a voice cry out.

"No! No!" It was the desperate sound of a woman.

Arthur looked to his right and heard a man yelling and arguing with the woman next door. He heard things being thrown against the wall. The man was spewing obscene language at the woman, who only tried to calm him down and talk sensibly, but the man wasn't hearing any of it. He sounded drunk.

Before Arthur could try putting the key into the lock again, the apartment door next to his opened and a young woman in a white dress with red polka dots spilled put into the hallway. She fell hard and landed face first onto the wooden floor. Her hair concealed her face in a curly display of auburn red hair.

A blonde man in his twenties poked his head out and shouted, "You don't break up with me, I break up with you, you stupid bitch! Fucking cunt!" The asshole slammed the door and locked her out.

Arthur looked away and placed his hand on the door. He thought about ignoring it at first, seeing how it was none of his business, but something told him that night he had to make sure the young woman was all right. He looked at her again and stuck the keys back into his pocket and ran down to the young woman, who stood up on her hands and knees. He bent down on one knee and placed his hands on her shoulders. A gagging sound came out of her mouth.

"Hey, are you okay?" Arthur asked her, a bit of concern in his voice.

The young woman could not answer him right away. The next thing she knew, she had thrown up the remains of her stomach onto the dirty wooden floor. Arthur pulled her hair back so she wouldn't vomit on herself. The young woman choked and started coughing. Pretty soon, she started crying. She cried not only from embarrassment, but from the shame of what went on just now between her and the man who threw her out of the apartment. Her body trembled.

Arthur released her hair and pulled out a Kleenex from the pocket of his jacket and used it to wipe away the sour-tasting residue on her lips, using comforting words to help ease her troubled mind.

"Don't worry", said Arthur. "You're all right."

The young woman continued crying, accompanied by a short series of gasping noises. She felt a hand stroke her hair.

"Shh, it's okay, it's okay", Arthur whispered to her soothingly, rubbing her back. "Here, let me help you." Arthur gave her his hand and helped her to stand on her feet and walked her over to his apartment. He fished the keys out from his pocket again and tried for a third time to unlock the door. He opened the door and brought her inside and was careful to be quiet. He didn't want to disturb his mother and let her know that he had brought a stranger into the apartment.

Arthur brought the young woman over to the couch and helped her to lie down. He grabbed a thin blanket from off the nearby armchair and unfolded it and used it to cover her up.

The auburn-haired beauty opened her brown eyes and looked at him and tried speaking, "W...where?..."

"It's okay", said Arthur, cupping a hand to her cheek. "You're safe now. You're safe." He stroked her hair again and stood up and left her alone for a moment. He returned a minute later, carrying a glass of water in one hand. Arthur helped her to take a sip of water and set the glass down on the coffee table afterwards. He took hold of her hand and asked her, "You want to tell me your name?"

The young woman blinked at him, clearly on the verge of tiredness. "My name? My name is..." The young woman's eyes closed and her voice faded before she could answer him. Her head rolled over to one side.

Arthur leaned over the unconscious young woman, listening for her breathing. He looked at her again and felt relieved once he saw her chest move up and down slowly.

"Happy, is that you?" Arthur's mother called out from the bedroom. He looked in that same direction.

"Yeah, Mom", he answered.

"Did you check the mail?"

Arthur looked at the young woman again, watching her delicate porcelain face etched with an expression of sadness and exhaustion.

"Happy?" Arthur's mother called out again.

"Yeah, Mom. Nothing came."

With that said, Arthur stood up and walked over to the kitchen. He paused at the entrance and looked back at the young woman once more. He hoped he had done the right thing bringing her into his home. He went about fixing his mother her dinner and brought it to her into her bedroom on a serving tray. Arthur and his mother made small talk while he cut her food into small pieces and she commented on how skinny he looked. He talked to her about his day, but he did not mention anything to her about the young woman sleeping out in the living room. He turned off the lamp and sat down next to her in bed and they both watched TV together. The most popular show in Gotham City was on tonight. Arthur enjoyed the program, but every so often, his mind kept thinking about the mysterious red-headed female.

Afterwards, Arthur's mother fell asleep. He turned off the TV and kissed his mother on her forehead. He walked out and closed the door and went out to the living room and checked on the young woman. She was sleeping peacefully.

Arthur sat down at the table and lit a cigarette, taking long drags in between sentences, writing today's thoughts in his journal. His entry was sloppy and vague, but then again, so was a joke he thought about.