Damian approached his apartment holding his head in his right hand, as if it was made of lead and he was having a hard time keeping it up.
"You okay, Damian?" A young boy's voice asked behind him.
He turned around to see Barry, the sixteen-year-old doorman (more like doorkid) that had picked up this job a few months ago. Though at a 'mature job' (he looked super childish in his doorman getup) it was still clear that the boy was very insecure about his social status.
"Yeah, Barry." Damian forced a sad smile. "Just peachy."
Barry sighed and adjusted the bow tie on his blue doorman outfit. "Good. You looked sad there for a minute." Suddenly his face lit up. "I've been meaning to tell you! I got opening night tickets to your show!"
"Yeah!" Barry nodded up and down rapidly, just like a six-year-old boy. "See you in a week!"
Damian walked off towards the elevator. "Yeah." He said, and then mumbled softly: "We'll see if I'm even here."
Upon reaching his living room, Damian walked over to the fridge, busted out a coors, and collapsed on his couch.
As much as he hated to think about it, all that crossed his mind were thoughts about Arriane and Riley. And what was with Priscilla, anyway?
"I guess it's just her way." Damian said to himself. "You can do all you want, but they'll always stay the same."
Wait. If Priscilla was going to be a frigid bitch no matter what, why would Riley invite her in the first place? Maybe Riley was being the bitch.
Or maybe I just haven't had enough beer yet. Damian thought.
"Riley should really watch out." Damian said to nobody in particular. "I mean, Arriane can get pretty hurt by Priscilla. And she's really sensitive. She used to hide in the bathroom and--"
He was just about to leave, when he realized something. He wasn't wanted there. Riley had already told him that he was not wanted.
In a fit of rage, he stomped off to his room, walked into the bathroom, slammed the door, and looked himself dead in the mirror. And in the mirror he saw what he always saw.
Not enough... Once again he tried to look deeper. But all he saw was a man struggling to find his dream, wherever it led him.
Deeper, you fake, heartless, bastard. One more time.
Damian saw a scared little boy. Trying desperately to hold on to his friends in a world where his very soul was being sucked out of him. Nothing mattered. Nobody ever saw him. All they saw was a face that he put on, night after night. Eventually, that wore on the boy... And he wasn't even sure who he was anymore.
"Good." He said to the face in the mirror, voice trembling. "You know what you are. Now swallow your goddamn pride, go to bed, and then apologize."