•Damien's POV•
••Next Tuesday••
I climb out of my car, shutting the door behind me as I walk up the gravel to Javier's front door.
I find the right key on my keychain, unlocking the door and stepping inside.
''Cody!'' I yell, making my way into the kitchen and resting the keys on the counter. I walk over to the fridge, opening it and grabbing me a gatorade. Twisting the top off I take a large sip, placing the bottle on the counter beside my keys.
I roll my eyes when a few minutes go by and he still doesn't make his way into the kitchen.
I groan, knowing that I'm about to have to walk up these long ass stairs which I really don't feel like doing.
I make my way toward the stairs nonetheless, heading up them and weaving my way through the halls until I come across the room he usually stays in when he's at Javier's house.
I open the door, a golden ball of fluff immediately hopping onto my leg. I look down to see Sly happily wagging his tail, his tongue hanging from his mouth lazily as he lets out a few barks of excitement.
I bend down, kneeling in front him as he attacks me with licks, running my hand through his fur I laugh, pushing his face away from mines, ''Good boy, we've gotta get you groomed,'' I say before getting back on my feet.
Looking around the room I see it's vacant, but Cody's clothes are just about all over the damn room so I have no doubt that he's here. I reach into my pocket and pull out my phone. I'm seconds away from ringing his phone as a door swings open and he walks out of the connecting bathroom.
''I heard you,'' He says casually, running a fluffy white towel through his damp brown hair. He grabs a random blue shirt from the bed, putting it on and looking over to me.
''C'mon, lets talk,'' I tell him as I leave the room, Sly following closely at my feet. I walk through the halls and into the upstairs living room.
''I do owe you an apology,'' I say to Cody once we're both seated on couches across from each other. ''I'm sorry for snapping at you the other day. We were both upset and I shouldn't have let the conversation escalate to an argument,'' I admit.
''Furthermore though, I'm sorry that I haven't been putting myself in the best positions to always be a good role model to you. Me cheating on Otto with Steven was a shitty thing to do. And I feel like shit for doing it but I feel even worse having you know about it and be disappointed in me or ashamed of me. I know that I gave you a lot of crap about cheating on Scarlet with Skylar, and I know me turning around and making the exact same mistake makes me a hypocrite,'' I shrug, a sigh leaving my lips.
''I'm not perfect Cody, I fuck up sometimes. But I'm trying to be the best person I can be for you. I don't plan on failing you like our parents did. I know that's probably what you expect from me though after all that they've put you through, and I don't blame you. But you are my brother, Cody. And that means something to me—it means everything to me.'' I say honestly, feeling my soul ache at the thought of everything he must've went through when I left him in that house.
I know I had it bad, but I can't shake the feeling that Cody had it a lot worse. I never stood up to my father, not really anyway.
I just took the hits because I knew that at any moment they could've been thrown at my mother or my brother instead, and that's the last thing I wanted.
I fought back when I could, when I had the chance, but I never won.
But Cody...Cody's a fighter. He's stubborn and he doesn't back down.
I know he has probably stood off with my father toe to toe on several occasions.
And pain rings through my heart when I imagine just how many times my father must've knocked him down. How many times my mother must've offered him that useless apologetic smile and how many times he had to clean himself up. Wipe the blood from his bruised skin, and hope that anything or everything that had been broken could just as easily be snapped back into place.
Because god forbid it couldn't. God forbid you had to go to the doctor and have them call your parents after you sell them some bogus story of falling down the stairs.
And as your father slips the doctor a couple of hundreds to keep his mouth shut to social services you realize you're helpless, and as he grips your shoulder, dragging you out of the hospital with an iron grip you let it soak in that even if nothing had been broken before, something would be now.
He'd make sure of it.
I squeeze my eyes shut, pushing the staining memory from my mind, trying to convince myself that my brother never had to go through that, but I don't believe it.
I don't believe it, not even for a second.
He attempts to speak but I cut him off, far from being done saying what needs to be said.
What he needs to hear.
''I'm not going to be the shitty adult that makes you apologize for having a decent set of morals for me to uphold. You should expect the best from me. I want to be someone that you're proud to be associated with, to be related to. And I'm never going to silence you because I know how much you've been forced to hold in. You can speak your mind with me. You have that right, you always have.'' I inform him.
His emerald green eyes pierce into my light blue ones. I look at his hands as he relaxes them from the fists they were previously in.
''You're not capable of failing me in the way that they did,'' He speaks after a moment. ''And I'd never expect you to be, I'd never think that you could just so you know,'' He says seriously.
''You used to look at me sometimes like you thought it'd be the last time you'd ever see me,'' I say. I look at Sly lying beside me on the couch. I reach over, running my hand through his fur. ''You don't have to say it but I know you're still waiting for the other shoe to drop with Javier. You're waiting for him to up and leave us behind, taking all of his luxury with him.
''You're waiting for me to give up on you too. You're waiting on me to emotionally lock you out and psychically break you down. It's like you're at the bottom of a pool of water and you're holding your breath. Just tell me what it's going to take to get you to come up for air. And don't think for a second that I'm afraid of diving in after you.'' I tell him.
Cody laughs.
''You're gonna analogy your way into my mind?'' He asks, but the look of silent pain in his eyes is louder than his words.
''Don't deflect,'' I tell him.
''What do you want to hear me say Damien? That I blame you for leaving me in that house? Because I don't. I know it's not your fault. But I also know that it was a choice. And that hurts, it's always going to hurt. It's not like I wanted you to choose my life over yours but damn, did you not stop for a second to think about what would happen if you came out about your sexuality, did you even stop for a second to think about how it would affect me?'' He demands, and although his voice is harsh it's also filled with pain and I can tell that this is something that's been on his mind, that's been bothering him for a while.
''No,'' I admit, shaking my head shamefully, ''No, I didn't.''
''It just sucks, Damien. And it's probably easier for you to suppress how many times he kicked your ass but it's not that easy for me yet. And to be honest with you I went looking for half of the fights I got into with him. I was so angry, so fucking pissed at him for being the reason you had to leave. I didn't care how many times he knocked me down, I can take a hit, I didn't care. I just wanted to feel his flesh beneath my knuckles because he had no right to do what he did to us, no right. I was angry at you, at him, at our mother, but at myself mostly, for being so fucked up in the head.''
''You're not fucked up in the head,'' I disagree quickly.
''Really? Because I broke Skylar's nose and even though he's one of the last people I'd want to hurt, I don't feel bad for hitting him. I feel remorse for breaking his nose but putting my hands on him? No, no I can't even fake regret for that. You know what that is? A deep seed of aggression and abuse and anger planted in a cozy place in the back of my screwed-up mind.'' He admits.
I sigh, shaking my head.
''Stand up,'' I tell him. I get to my feet as well.
''What?'' He questions, remaining seated on the couch.
''Stand up, right now,'' I repeat to him.
He rolls his eyes, but still makes his way to his feet and before he can even steady himself, I wrap my arms around his shoulders, pulling him to me for a tight hug.
''You're not broken, you're not crazy, and you're not fucked up in the head Cody. You're a child who had to fight off demons that weren't even his own, you're a young man who has scars to show that he won. And I refuse to allow you to let this anger inside of you devour you. You're gonna beat this. You're better than this, stronger than this,'' I whisper into his ear, hugging him to me closely.
Just because our father took our childhood, doesn't mean he gets to have our life as well.
We'll get though this; we'll get over this.
And then we'll find a way to forget it, to let it go.
We have to.
••••
••Thursday••
''Jewels!'' I yell, walking down the halls of her house. ''Julia!'' I yell again once I don't get a response.
''Hey!'' She says, out of breath as she comes running down the stairs, fumbling to pull her tank top all the way down as it gets caught on her belly button ring.
''It's on backwards anyway,'' I say laughing at the fact that I can see the tag on the back of the shirt. ''And you have bed hair at 3pm,'' I comment on her disheveled blonde hair, frizzed about all over her head. ''So how about you fix your shirt and tell me who you have over,'' I tease, making my way back over to the stairs she had just come down.
She rolls her eyes, grabbing my arm and pulling me forward, into the kitchen and away from the stairs.
''He's heading out, so don't you even dare,'' She warns letting my arm go as she goes to the refrigerator to grab her a bottle of water.
''Yeah go on and re-hydrate, you look like you had fun,'' I joke, leaning against the counter. ''Everyone is shaking up lately, must be nice,''
''Don't stand over there and act like you haven't been getting any action. I heard about what happened in your gym the other day.'' Julia says, a smirk hanging at her lips as she walks over to where I'm at and takes a seat on the counter top.
''You and Javier gossip like high schoolers, I swear.'' I mumble, folding my arms across my chest. ''And technically I gave more action than I got, so,'' I say with a nonchalant shrug. Knowing that there was nothing nonchalant about what happened the other day.
''Wait, so since you've got all the dirt on everyone, know anything about Javier's secret boyfriend?'' I ask curiously.
She scoffs.
''As if I'm going to spill my tea before you spill yours,'' She argues. I laugh.
''About what?'' I ask, feigning confusion. But she gives me a look that clearly reads, 'what the hell do you think?'. I reach over to her fruit bowl on the edge of the counter, grabbing an apple and tossing it up. ''I've been letting myself procrastinate on breaking up with Otto since last Tuesday.'' I admit to her, watching as one of her perfectly groomed eyebrows arch with interest.
I've been knowing what I want to do regarding my messy love life since my talk with Javier, but I've been avoiding actually doing anything that needs to get done because I don't want to feel like shit about it.
Otto is a really good guy.
And it's fucked up of me to have strung him along like this.
Although in all fairness when we began things, I did sincerely think I was getting over Steven.
Even though that's fucking impossible for me to do.
Obviously.
''Why?'' Julia asks. I look at her, the annoyance in my face clear. It's not at her though, I'm annoyed with myself.
''Because on top of breaking up with him I have to come clean about cheating on him and honestly the guilt and shame of it all is killing me. Plus, he's a good guy who doesn't deserve any of this which makes it even worse.'' I tell her. She shrugs, giving me a mischievously suggestive look.
''I mean technically you don't have to tell him anything about your little hookup with Steven,'' She proposes. ''You're breaking up with him so you really don't have to confess to it if you don't want to.''
''Is that right though?'' I ask her. ''He's going to know I'm breaking up with him to be with Steven no matter what thanks to the tabloids and the paparazzi, but wouldn't keeping that part from him just add more salt to the wound?''
''It's not like telling him would aid in him getting closure, it will most likely just piss him off. But you should do whatever you feel is right, I'm just saying it's probably best to be honest with him up to a point. Tell him that you're still in love with Steven and you want to be with him. That's true.'' She says.
I groan.
I don't fucking know how to go about this.
Do I be honest or do I be partially honest?
I suppose it really doesn't matter because either way I'm going to be an asshole for doing it.
''If you're worried about him slandering you in the media or something you shouldn't be, he can't.'' She states confidently.
''What do you mean?'' I ask, looking at her. ''I wouldn't peg him as the type of person to be malicious but if he does talk about me in some magazine or something I wouldn't hate him for it especially after what I did to him, or at least what I'm going to do whenever I swallow my guilt and talk to him.''
She shakes her head, grabbing my shoulder to steady herself as she hops off of the counter.
''That's not what I meant, but clearly you don't know so I'm not going to mention it,'' She says, attempting to walk away.
I follow behind her as she enters the pantry.
''Julia,'' I say seriously, leaning against the arch of the door as she rummages through the shelves.
''Damien,'' She taunts, using the same tone that I used.
''I'm serious, what don't I know?'' I demand.
''Technically Damien, you're not my boss therefore I don't have to answer that question.'' She says with a shrug. She grabs the box of lucky charms off of the shelf, walking back into the kitchen.
''Yeah but I am your friend, right?'' I ask her as she strolls over to the cabinet to grab a bowl.
''Yeah but you don't sign my paychecks,'' She says in a chirpy tone, grabbing the milk from the refrigerator.
''Jewels,'' I complain, the tiredness present in my tone as I pick up the box of cereal when she goes to reach for it. I hold it high above my head, knowing good and well that without her stilettos on her feet she'd never be able to reach it. ''Seriously, just tell me.'' I plead.
She sighs, walking away to get a spoon from one of the drawers.
''Fine,'' She says, reaching towards me for her cereal back. I hand it to her. ''Javier had me print up some non-disclosure agreements for Otto and a few other models that he hangs out with to sign.'' She admits, filling her bowl with the cereal.
''So?'' I question, not understanding the relevance of what she said.
''If I have to spell it out for you, you clearly aren't that interested in figuring it out,'' She mumbles, pouring some milk into the bowl. She scoops some cereal onto the spoon and eats it as I stare at her impatiently. She rolls her eyes when her gaze meets mines. ''Jesus Damien, they were about you. He didn't want Otto or any of his friends talking about you, bad or good, to anyone that could make a headline of it.'' She says, swallowing her food in the process.
''Why?'' I ask.
''To protect you. Why else?'' She asks rhetorically. ''When you were in your spiral phase, screwing half the females on the planet he had me running behind you, practically jamming printers with the amount of NDA's that I had to print up and get signed. He made sure any loose ends that you could've possibly had were tied. Honestly, he's just trying to save you from a giant media blowout where they brand a scandal after you and he told me he's only keeping it from you because he doesn't want you stressing about it.'' She reveals.
''I'm not mad. I get where he's coming from, I guess. He's crazy protective, but so am I. And if you're the one who typed the NDA's out I know the restrictions weren't too irrational, right?'' I ask her. She nods in response, scooping up another spoonful of cereal. ''Okay so is that it? Are you guys keeping anything else from me?''
She shrugs. ''Not that I know of,'' She replies, mouth full of cereal. ''Or am at liberty to say,'' She says, smirking at me.
''You're not funny,'' I tell her. ''So, who's this Adrian Lewis guy that Javier's keeping on the low?'' I inquire, my interest in the subject not at all hid.
Julia smiles, her eyes glowing with excitement.
Clearly, she knows something interesting and she's ready to spill all the tea that's been brewing.
''Okay so he's been seeing him for about three or four months now, and honestly it's the cutest thing I've ever seen. Javier is a completely different person around him, I mean I've seen his softer side with you and Cody but I swear he's like the humblest guy in the world when he's around Adrian. And you know Javier doesn't do humble, he does intimidating, so that's definitely a new look for him.'' She gushes, finishing off her cereal with one last bite and bring the bowl over to the sink.
''So, how'd you meet him? Did Javier introduce you because he was being awfully cagey about introducing him to me even though I walked in on them basically diving down each other's throat in his office.'' I tell Julia.
She laughs, not looking at all shocked.
''I've met him a few times when I join Javier on his business trips to Europe, but only briefly. We haven't actually had a conversation but from what I've gathered, he's an architect that's designing a building for Javier.'' She informs me.
Now I'm the one that's laughing as I throw a suggestive look Julia's way.
''So he's sleeping with an architect to get a free building?'' I joke.
''Oh, no. He's paying him well, too well in my opinion. In sex and in cash.'' She says with a grin as we make our way into the living room.
I relax on the couch and she picks up the tv remote, joining me.
''So, I got you something,'' I say a couple of minutes later. She turns to glance at me, her green eyes skeptical and questioning.
''You only buy me things when you want something,'' She says cautiously.
I smile, reaching into my pocket to pull out the small black box.
''Well,'' I say, opening the box to let her see the rose necklace inside of it. ''I'm not ashamed to admit the truth in that accusation. But if it's not too late, I want you to tell Javier no to his promotion offer.'' I say.
I know it's selfish of me to ask her not to take this advancement in not only her pay check but her career as well but I just really don't want her to go.
I feel like I don't even get to see her anymore as it is because she's always traveling and dealing with other people when, and I know this sounds incredibly selfish and maybe even a bit childish, but when she's supposed to be dealing with me.
I make better life decisions when she's around to tell me to stop being a fucking idiot.
Which just might explain my lack of good decisions lately.
''This is beautiful,'' She says, grabbing the box from my hand and taking the necklace out, the gold chain shines brightly as the diamonds set in the red rose sparkle.
''Oh, I know. I got you a rose because you know, you're Julia Rose,''
She laughs, cutting me off. ''Yes Damien, I know my name,'' She comments, clearly amused by my explanation. I roll my eyes and continue.
''And the diamonds in the rose because you're also Jewels, and diamonds are forever, just like we will be when you tell Javier no to his offer.'' I say.
She sighs, handing me back the box, but keeping the necklace in her hand as she stares admiringly at it.
''Damien you know I have to take the offer, right?'' She asks.
''You don't have to,'' I disagree quickly.
''Yeah but I want to,'' She argues right back. ''It's a really good offer and it's what I've always wanted. I can't turn that down.'' She explains.
''I know,'' I groan out. ''I had to at least try to bribe you into staying though,'' I admit.
''Damien you act like we're going to be in different countries. I'll literally just be a six-hour plane ride away from you.''
''Um, being on opposite sides of the country is basically like being in different countries.'' I let her know, closing the box and leaning forward to place it on the coffee table.
''Yeah, mhmm,'' She replies sarcastically. ''And I'm keeping the necklace. It really is beautiful. How much did you spend on this?'' She asks.
''More than your raise,'' I joke, taking the necklace from her hands and helping put it around her neck.
''Someone's bitter,'' She replies in a sing-song voice to which I scoff in response.
My phone rings and I fish it out of my pocket, seeing Otto's name flash across the screen and momentarily losing literally all the air in my lungs.
Julia leans over my shoulder to look at the screen of my phone and then gives me a nudge on my shoulder.
''If you don't answer that phone and tell him you don't want to be with him anymore, I'm going to pinch the hell out of you.'' She threatens.
And it's not hard to succumb to her intimidating glare, so I hit the answer button and bring the phone up to my ear.
''Hey, you,'' I say into the phone. And as far as awkward greetings go this would rank high on the list.
'Hey, you' Who the hell even says that?
''Hey, beautiful. My flight landed yesterday evening but I was so tired I just crashed all day. But hey, my friends are throwing this party tonight and I'd really appreciate it you'd come with me,'' He asks.
''Actually Otto, we need to—''
''Damien please, just come to the party. I know it's not really your scene but I think we can both admit that you could use a little bit of time outside of your comfort zone. Just say yes.''
''Otto this is serious. Can you listen to me for a minute. We ne—''
He starts talking again and Julia steals my attention. I look at her lips as she mouths the words 'Dump him now!'.
I glare at her and she shrugs innocently, focusing back on the tv.
''—Just say yes, Damien. I'm not taking no for an answer, in fact I'm texting you the address now. I'll meet you there. See you later.'' Otto says, ending the call.
A groan leaves my lips as I throw my phone on the coffee table.
''Didn't sound very much like a breakup from over here,'' Julia says at the other end of the couch, the pettiness abrasive in her tone as she flicks through the channels.
I grab a couch pillow, throwing it at her.
••••
••Thursday Night••
''So, are you going to go or what?'' Julia asks me, grabbing a pint of strawberry ice-cream out of her freezer.
I shrug, pulling out two spoons from the utensil drawer. I take a seat at the kitchen table.
''I wasn't planning on going. He barely let me get a word in on the phone and then all of a sudden, my calls are being sent straight to voicemail.'' I say, grabbing the pint from her when she comes to sit next to me.
I take the top off and dip my spoon into the container.
''Okay well you can't just stay at my house and unwantedly help me eat my ice-cream,'' She says, sliding the container over to her before I can scoop some up on my spoon.
I roll my eyes, placing my spoon on the table.
''Fine,'' I reply, standing up and walking over to the counter to grab my car keys. ''I guess I'll go to this dumb ass party and try to talk to him.''
''Where is it?'' She asks with a mouthful of ice-cream, causing me to cringe at just the thought of having all that coldness resting on my sensitive teeth.
''On the east side, like an hour or so away. Why, do you wanna come?'' I ask, to which she quickly replies with a shake of her head.
''Enjoy your ice-cream then,'' I mumble as I reluctantly make my way out of her house and into my car.
I start my car up, entering the address he messaged me into my GPS and putting my seatbelt on before driving towards the highway.
In just over an hour the sun has faded from the sky and I'm parking my car across the street from a very crowded house.
There are cars lining the curb around the house, and even two up on the lawn. I climb out of my car, seeing people scattered about on the front porch, beer bottles and red cups occupying their hands.
I grab my phone, sending Otto a short text to meet me outside. There's no way I'm stepping foot inside that house. That's like one undercover paparazzi away from being the next headline scandal for People's Magazine.
And I have to stay true to what I told Cody. I am going to be the best version of myself for him. Which means not going to shady parties and partaking in the various amounts of drugs and alcohol that I'm sure is enclosed within those four walls.
A few minutes later the front door opens and Otto exits, walking down the porch steps with a red cup in his hands and a smile on his face.
''I missed you,'' He says, leaning in for a kiss, but the smell of alcohol coating his voice has me coiling back slightly. I turn my head a bit, his lips hitting my cheek instead of my mouth.
''You wanna take a walk, get some fresh air and talk a bit?'' I ask him, my hand grabbing his, squeezing gently as I stare into his crystal blue eyes.
He shakes his head.
''What? No, no come inside, come meet my friends!'' He says excitedly, pulling me along with him up the porch and into the house before I can object.
''Otto,'' I call him, although I'm doubtful that he can hear me because as soon as we reach the living room the sound of the music drowns out everything and we dive into the sea of sweaty, dancing bodies as he pulls me along with him, out of the living room, down the hall and through of the open sliding door that leads to the backyard.
There's a pool, with more people hanging around it than actually in it. The music isn't as loud as it was inside but it's still pretty damn loud.
His grip on my hand is tight as he leads me over to the back of the yard, near a group of guys surrounding a barbeque grill.
''Aye, Niko, Patrick, Don,'' He calls out, and the three guys turn to face us. ''This is my boyfriend, Damien,'' He says, introducing us as we stop in front of them.
''Niko,'' The sandy brown-haired man offers his hand and I reach out shaking it. His eyes are this murky green color and his jawline is sharp as hell, but in the attractive way, in the he could own my whole fucking career with one soft smirk type of way.
Yeah, it's not that hard to spot a fellow model. And with his looks, I have no doubt he's under contract with the Stark Agency as well.
''Donovan, or just Don,'' The second guy says, extending his hand for me to shake as well. His smooth coffee skin adding extra affect to his deep brown eyes, as his long dark curly hair is tied up in a bun. His sculpted muscles on full display since he's sporting only a swim speedo.
Okay now he's just fucking beautiful.
The last guy, Patrick, shakes my hand as well and I offer them all a smile despite my reservations about even wanting to step foot into this party.
''I'm glad you're finally here because Otto wouldn't shut the hell up about you,'' Patrick says, taking a sip from the beer bottle in his hand.
I smile, turning to glance at Otto to see him rolling his eyes.
''Yeah, alright, you're done,'' He says to Patrick.
''So, what's on the grill?'' I ask Don as he moves over to open the grill, grabbing the tongs from the hook on the side.
''Burgers, hot dogs, kabobs, corn,'' He answers, waving me over. I step over to where he's at, looking at the massive grill with all the food spread out on it. He smiles, his teeth an ivory white, ''And yes, it does taste as good as it looks,'' He says, and I can't tell if he's flirting with me, talking about the food, or both.
But I think it's safe to assume that it's both.
''Um, you need me to grab some buns or plates?'' I offer, attempting to find an out to this interaction.
He nods in response. ''Yeah, they should be in the kitchen, Otto can show you,'' He says.
I walk over to Otto, stealing him out of a conversation with Niko and Patrick, I grab his hand, leaning in as I speak, ''Come show me where the kitchen is, Don needs plates and buns,'' I tell him, pulling him along with me in the direction of the house before he can protest.
''Don says don't fuck in any of his guest rooms!'' I hear what I think is Niko's voice yelling at us.
''Ignore them,'' Otto mutters as we're once again submerged in a pool of sweaty bodies.
He guides us to the kitchen which is sufficiently less crowded, there's about three other people besides us in here.
''I still need to talk to you!'' I yell so that I can be heard over the loud noise of the music.
''Don't take Niko seriously, no one does!'' He yells back in response, impatiently searching the cabinets for the paper plates.
''What?! This isn't about Niko, it's about us!'' I reply. ''Can we go outside so we can stop yelling?!'' I ask him. He pulls a pack of paper plates from the cabinet, grabbing the buns off of the counter.
''Let me take these to Don first!'' He says, making his way from the kitchen.
I sigh, shaking my head.
This was supposed to be a quick conversation. I was supposed to be in and out.
Hell, I wasn't even supposed to come in.
I don't want to just yell to him over the music that I'm dumping him. I already feel bad about it as is, I'd rather just go somewhere quiet and have a small talk with him and explain to him that it really has nothing to do with him as a person.
I just want to let him know that it's me who needs to figure my shit out and it's not his fault in any way that I need to do that with someone who isn't him.
I want to be a good guy about this, because I've already been a level ten asshole by cheating on him with Steven.
I leave the kitchen, weaving my way past people and down the hall. I open the doors I walk past, in search of a bathroom.
I reach for the knob on a door, twisting and pushing it open. And I go to step in before seeing Patrick and Niko hunched over near the sink, holding tiny pipes to their nose as they snort up the little white lines that are covering the bathroom counter.
What the fuck is this?
These are the type of people Otto hangs with?
This is the type of shit he does when he's not around me?
They don't look the least bit surprised when they notice me standing there.
''Come in and take a hit or get out and shut the damn door,'' Patrick says seriously, bringing his hand up to wipe the white powder from his nose.
I scoff, slamming the door harshly.
What the fuck is going on?
I turn around, ready to storm away from the bathroom but instead I end up crashing into the exact person I was about to go searching for.
I take Otto's wrist in my hand, dragging him along with me as I make my way back down the hall. I hear his voice but I can't make out exactly what he's saying as I drag him through the dancing bodies scattered about the living room and out of the front door.
I pull him along with me away from the porch and down the sidewalk a bit so that we won't have an audience.
But I'm in need of some fucking answers.
''Are you doing drugs with them?'' I demand from him. And I'm sure my eyes are glaring daggers but I'm pissed.
That type of environment is not the right type to be around and he knows this.
We've literally talked about dealing with wicked ass temptations such as drugs in this industry and he swore to me he wasn't into it.
And I know it shouldn't affect me as much seeing as though I no longer want to be with him but that doesn't mean I want him to make shitty life decisions either.
I still want what's best for him, whether I want to be with him or not.
He's a good person, he's a young person who quite literally has his whole fucking life ahead of him and he shouldn't be throwing it down the drain with drugs.
''What? What are you talking about?'' He asks, hardly tackling the oblivious vibe that he attempts to give off because clearly he knows exactly what the hell I'm talking about.
Is he really going to pretend that he wasn't heading into that bathroom when I bumped into him?
''A few of your friends are in the bathroom playing with some little white lines. Are you doing drugs with them?'' I demand from him.
He looks at me, his eyes barely readable in the darkness of the night but the pissed off expression on his face is as clear as day.
''What? No!'' He claims, shaking his head angrily, ''Look, just come here,'' He says, taking my arm and pulling me further down the sidewalk until the house was out of view. He turns around to look at me. ''Patrick and a few other pals of mine do drugs sometimes, but only at parties and only to have a good time—''
''I find that hard to believe,'' I say, cutting in as he speaks.
''But that's their thing, okay? It's not mine.'' He claims.
I look into his eyes and I want to believe him. I don't want to think the worst about him but as bold and as strong as he is, he's still subjectable to other people's influences.
And I don't believe him.
I believe that he wants me to think the best of him.
And I believe that his friends are probably influencing this, surrounding him with it, drowning him in the temptation of it and getting him to give in to their cravings.
''So your friends are in the bathroom doing crack or whatever the hell that is and you expect me to believe that you're the one saint out of the group that's sober?'' I ask, the disbelief laced in my voice as I ask the question.
''My friends don't define me!'' He argues.
I shake my head.
''Actually, they do,'' I inform him. That's clearly something he's going to have to learn in life. Whether we like it or not, whether it's right or wrong.
We are a representation of the company we keep.
And if you hang out with a bunch of stoners it reflects badly on you, on your character.
The same as if you were to be friends with a murderer, or a rapist, it would say something about you and the degree to which you hold people, and yourself.
''I'm my own person, I make my own choices,'' He states seriously.
''And you choose to hang around people who abuse drugs, snorting their life away, don't get me wrong they're probably really good people,'' The sarcasm doesn't fall flat in my words, ''but they're doing something shitty to their body, and to their life.'' I explain.
But Otto shakes his head, waving his hand up in dismissal.
''Okay so that's them, not me!'' He exclaims.
A sigh leaves my lips, and I find it difficult to understand why he can't grasp what I'm saying.
Or at least fucking admit to the fact that he's doing drugs with them.
He doesn't have to lie to me.
He should know this.
''Otto I can tell you're failing to understand my point, so let me just put it to you this way,'' I say, grabbing his wrists in my hands and pulling him a step closer to me, ''Had I met you for the first time after what I just saw in that bathroom and you were with your friends and by some miracle you were the only sober one, I wouldn't even look twice at you. Hell, I wouldn't even have looked once.''
He pulls his wrists from my grip, scoffing at me.
''You're just pulling reasons out of thin air to make this a big deal.'' He replies.
''No,'' I argue. ''I'm saying that if you're surrounding yourself with people who are just throwing their life away, and you're condoning that type of behavior, accepting it, how long do you have until you fall victim to it?'' I ask him genuinely, going along with his claims that he's not partaking in the same dangerous activities as his friends, even though I know he damn well is.
He gives me this look of his that he only wears when he's pushing away from a topic that he knows will start a fight. This pleading look in his crystal blue eyes begging to steer clear of the confrontation and drama.
''Look, I don't want to fight, okay?'' He assures, ''Let's just go back to the party and we'll talk about this later,'' He pleads, reaching for my hand.
I move my hand away from his, shaking my head in disagreement.
''Otto, I'm not going back in there,'' I tell him.
His friends are in the bathroom snorting crack and he wants to go back to the party like it isn't a big ass deal.
But it is.
''What's your problem? No, really,'' He says, running a frustrated hand through his hair, ''Like what the hell is your problem right now?''
I roll my eyes.
It's more than fucking obvious what my problem is at this point.
''I care about my image,'' I reply simply.
He scoffs, rolling his eyes at me in return.
''About what other people think about you?" He asks distastefully.
''No. About the people that get hurt if stuff like this were to get out. If it were to get out that a bunch of models are in there most likely doing every drug under the sun and I'm here being associated with it. That would worry the hell out of my brother for one and it would piss my father off beyond possibility,'' I say, trying to explain it to him but the look of annoyance in his eyes shows me that he gives zero fucks about everything I just said.
But he doesn't have to give a fuck about it because I do.
And I refuse to let the people that I care about down.
I can't let Cody down anymore. He's been through enough shit and I need to show him he can count on me because words aren't enough for him. Actions are heavy, they move him more than anything else and he'll break if he thinks that I was lying to him about cleaning my act up.
''Yeah, your father...'' Otto says with a sneer, mumbling something under his breath.
I raise a brow at him, beckoning him to watch whatever the hell just came out of his mouth. He knows exactly how I feel about people badmouthing Javier.
''What?'' I ask warningly, ''A little louder this time, I didn't hear you,''
''I said your father,'' He replies strongly, ''The man who can make all of your scandals disappear with a glare and a lot of zeros. See something you've failed to realize is that you're not like the rest of us models, Damien. You have it made. Everything is handed to you, and god forbid you have a little fun or act out a little bit and piss daddy off, who knows what'll happen then. As if you'd really even have to worry though, because it'll probably just be a little slap on the wrist for you and then on your way you go. Real models, actual hardworking models like my friends and I, we'd be unemployed!'' He says, his eyes angry and his face hurt.
And I can't help the sting that hits my heart at his words.
Even though it's not all true.
Or maybe it is.
But I never asked for anything from Javier, I didn't ask for leniency or special treatment or even to be a fucking model.
The opportunity just fell in my hands and I took it because I might have died had I not.
And Javier and I just bonded, I can't help how he treats me because of how protective and parental he feels towards me.
None of it is my fucking fault and for him to be throwing it in my face like that is fucked up.
Jealously oozed from his words yet not once in my career have I ever acted better than any other model at the agency, and he ought to know this about me.
A sober Otto would've never said some shit like that.
Although is it worse that a sober him would've just felt that way in secret?
I take my phone out of my pocket, turning the flash on and grabbing his chin in my hand as I shine the light in his face, looking into his eyes. His pupils are extremely dilatated, and I tilt his head up, ignoring the fight he puts up to break free, I see the traces of white powder lining the inside of his nostrils.
''Okay you're definitely high, and we're definitely done,'' I tell him, letting him go as I put my phone back into my pocket.
I turn around, ready to storm off but I'm not more than two feet away when I find myself turning back around and pulling him along with me.
As pissed as I am at him, there's no damn way I'm leaving him alone at this party to snort more of his life away.
''Damien let me go,'' He complains, but I ignore him, continuing to pull him along with me to my car. And his smaller body is no challenge as I open the passenger's door and push him in despite his protests and struggles against me. ''What the fuck? Dude!''
''I'm taking you home,'' I tell him as I get into the drivers' seat, shutting my door and hitting the lock all doors button.
He scoffs, attempting to open the door and furiously punching the dashboard when he realizes that the doors are locked and that he's not getting out.
''Why? You literally just dumped me. Why the fuck do you care about taking me home?'' He demands.
I sigh, starting up my car.
''I'm guessing you're experiencing a pivotal decline in your euphoric high right now, but please don't take it out on my car,'' I tell him, noting the dent he put in my dashboard.
He rolls his eyes, folding his arms across his chest as he stares out of the window.
''Put your seatbelt on,'' I say, but I'm not very surprised when he ignores me.
''Otto, I'm not breaking up with you because you're doing drugs. It's completely unrelated to that,'' I say, attempting a conversation with him about thirty minutes into the drive.
I glance over at him and he's still staring angrily out the window.
''Oh great, thanks, that makes me feel a lot better,'' He says sarcastically.
It's probably best to just wait until he's sober to have this conversation, if he even wants to have this conversation. But clearly we're not going to get anywhere right now while his attitude is at a 10 and his comprehension is at a 1.
About twenty minutes later we're pulling up in front of his house and as soon as I put the car into park he's reaching to grab the door handle which I have yet to unlock.
''Give me your car keys,'' I tell him seriously.
He looks at me, a look of exhaustion and irritation in his crystal eyes.
''I don't even have my car. It's back at the party.'' He snarls out at me.
I extend my hand towards him expectantly.
''I don't care. Give me your car keys, and your phone too. I don't need you trying to uber your way back to that party. And don't fucking call anyone to come pick you up because I'll be having one of the Stark security agents standing outside your door.'' I tell him.
With a frustrated huff from his lips he slams both his phone and his car keys in my hand, refusing to even look me in the eyes.
Why can't he see that I'm not trying to be his enemy right now?
I'm not trying to be the bad guy and I'm not trying to hurt him.
I didn't mean to tell him that it's over between him and I the way I did but I was caught off guard by the hurtful shit he said and it just came out.
Nevertheless though I'm only trying to help him.
And once he's sobered up tomorrow morning, I'm going to help him get clean, willingly or with a fight.
One way or another tonight is going to be the last night of his life that he ever does drugs.
And I know it's not right of me to want to control his life but I don't really give a fuck.
I want to help him and that's exactly what I'm going to do.
He's only twenty-years-old, he doesn't deserve the future that's hungrily waiting for him on the other end of those little white lines.
He doesn't deserve that.
I've seen his heart and it's pure.
And I'm not going to let his poor excuse for friends, or even himself, fuck up his life before he's even lived.
I'm in the perfect position to help him and I plan on doing just that, and he doesn't have to like me for it.
He can hate me and I'll be fine with that.
As long as he's sober while he's hating me.
''You know I should've known better than to pursue you,'' He says quietly, sitting back in the seat. He finally looks over at me, and tears are clouding his eyes.
I take a deep breath, releasing it slowly. ''Otto, we don't have to talk about this right now,'' I tell him, praying he stops speaking. I hit the button to unlock all the doors, hoping he just gets out of the car.
I already feel guilty.
I don't need him to make me feel like even more of an asshole.
''No, no because you led me to believe I actually had a shot and like the kind hearted, foolish idiot I am I hopped into bed with a man who's heart already belonged to someone else,'' He breathes out, the tears falling and streaming down his cheeks, ''But that's not the part that hurts, what hurts is that I never wanted your love Damien, I knew we were in different places in life, I knew we weren't going to be forever, but I just wanted a chance with you. A chance to experience life with you because you seemed like such a great guy.
''At least now I know why I wasn't your type. Because you were always going to hurt me, and I should've taken it as a sign when you weren't interested in me at first. And I gather from the look of guilt that's been in your eyes all night that you did something else with your ex. Something more than just kissing, something that I probably don't even want to hear about. I may be high but I'm not oblivious, Damien. You're not the first asshole who's cheated on me, you're just the first one that I gave another chance to just so that he could turn around and do it again.'' Otto says, breaking my heart as he wipes the tears from his face.
''Otto I...honestly, I didn't mean for anything to happen with him while we were still together.''
''Yeah,'' He says, nodding his head slowly. He sniffles, bringing his hand up to wipe under his nose. ''I'm afraid I've heard that excuse before,'' He responds.
He opens the door and climbs out of the car before I can reply, slamming the door behind him.
My eyes burn as I lean forward and rest my head on the steering wheel.
I'm so fucked up for cheating on him.
I know I am.
And he has every right to hate me for it and make me feel like shit about it.
I'd be livid too if I'd gotten cheated on. But what hurts more is that his voice was heavy with pain and not anger.
And I never meant to hurt him.
I groan, shaking my head and grabbing my phone, dialing the security managements number.
''Hey, Jeffery, can you send a guy over to the address I'm about to send you? It's Otto Seppalainens' house. I told him there'd just be security outside but it's fine if he goes in, just make sure he announces himself. Tell him to keep a close eye on Otto for the night, he's sort of on edge and I don't want him to hurt himself.'' I inform him.
''Sure thing, I'll have someone out there in under fifteen.'' Jefferey replies.
''And can we keep this between us? Javier doesn't need to know. Trust me,'' I sigh out into the phone and he must hear the weariness in my voice because he replies not a moment later.
''Of course, as far as I know we aren't even on the phone right now.'' He says, ending the call quickly after.
I take my car out of park, heading in the direction of my house as I fantasize about letting all of my resolve fade away underneath the streams of the steaming showering while letting the tears drown my eyes.
But as I come to a halt at a stop sign I find myself pulling my phone from my pocket, scrolling through my contact list and hitting the dial button.
And the words leave my lips the moment he answers the phone.
Because I need him right now.
I really do.
I need the comfort he gives me. The feeling of safety that never leaves me in his presence and the stubbornness of his annoying ass personality that I love.
I need his arms around me.
I need him to tell me I'm not as bad a person as I feel right now because I only want to hear it from his lips.
I want to know that he believes it.
I want him to know that I can be good; I can be better.
For him and for my brother.
I want him to show me the love he claims so fiercely to have for me.
I want him to tell me, not with his words but with his lips, how much he's missed me.
I want him.
''Come back to California, please,'' I say, the plead slipping from my lips like silk.
••A/N••
Hey guys!
I know that there was supposed to be an update last Wednesday but to be honest everything that's going on in America right now has been taking a toll on my mental and honestly just stressing me the hell out.
It kind of teetered my creativity and my inspiration to write, but nevertheless @DeathByAPilgrim got me back on track, so thanks to her, we have this amazing update!
Also did you all like doing the little surveys? If so I'll have one for the next chapter!
How did you feel about the progression of this chapter?
What're your thoughts on Damien and Otto's breakup? Or Otto doing drugs with his friends?
I really enjoyed writing Cody and Damien's talk, what did you guys think about it?
What do you have to say about Damien calling Steven at the end of the chapter?
Comment Please! Lol be my distraction! Let's talk about this chapter.
And don't think I forgot...HAPPY PRIDE MONTH! <3 I'm upset that this is the first pride month that I'm in California and I won't be able to attend a pride parade.
Please leave a comment and tell me what you think of the story!
Please Vote!
Posted: June 2, 2020.