So he was one of the Queens...
Seriously, did you rich kids just run around every bar without any class segregation?
Thea Queen's gesture was like toppling the first domino. Whispers spread through the crowd, and more and more wealthy guests raised their hands, whatever their motives might have been.
"I'll add two hundred thousand, for Gotham's children."
"Dales Technologies, one hundred thousand!"
"Count us in... one hundred and fifty thousand."
For a while, the scene grew chaotic, and the emcee hurried onto the stage to restore order. Amid a clamor of mixed emotions, the total pledged to the children's aid program run by Gotham's Eastern District Precinct quickly climbed to 2.3 million dollars.
Oliver Queen stood where he was, his face burning. The spotlight still shone on him, but it brought him no glory now, only endless torment. He looked at his sister's resolute expression below the stage, then glanced at the still-impassive Gotham police officer beside him. An indescribable sense of defeat welled up inside him.
He had to do something to salvage at least the appearance of dignity.
He took a deep breath, forced down his turbulent emotions, and picked up the microphone again.
"It seems... the experiences of our colleague from Gotham have truly touched both me and everyone here." He paused, his gaze sweeping across the audience. "To demonstrate the Queen family's support, and my own, for public safety, and especially for the welfare of the next generation... I hereby pledge an additional seven hundred thousand dollars. I hope this money can truly help the children who need it."
Applause rose from the audience, but it was scattered and thin, nowhere near as enthusiastic as the response to those million-dollar checks earlier. It sounded more like a perfunctory acknowledgment. After all, this was a city