Damien: rumoursMature

I leave it a few days before doing anything about what happened. I had to go back to the hospital to get my nose set again and to be honest, I just wanted a bit of time to recover and look less beaten up. To be honest, I spend those few days too high to do much anyways. Phil scored some heroin, and we spent most of our time lying on my bed snuggling, out of our fucking minds.

When I get back to school, I'm on a comedown, but I have something I need to do. I just stick out the withdrawals and deal with it. When Jason tries to trip me, I punch him, and when anyone else tries something, I ignore it, or punch them, too. I end up in isolation on my first day back. The teacher keeping me in isolation puts a senior on the door for lunch.

Do you really think I'm scared of as senior? Really?

It doesn't take much effort to uh, persuade him to let me out.

I sit near the gossips in the cafeteria, flashing a smile at Kelly - my signal that I have something to say. All eyes on me.

"Y'know that new kid? The fag?" they nod as one. It's kinda creepy, actually. "Guess who I saw him getting a little too friendly with the other day." They make a couple of suggestions but I shake my head with a savage smile. A few of them lean forward, demanding to know who it was I saw. I look around to check that no one else will overhear and lower my voice for effect, "Kyle."

"Kyle?!" one of them gasps.

"Ohmigod! He was just covering up! Eww," one of them giggles. I stand up and smile.

"Thank you for your time, ladies. Must dash - isolation calls." I wink and walk off, heading back to the isolation room. Not like I have much left to do today. Apart from wait for the ‘rumour' to spread around.


The next day I walk in and see Kyle by his locker, on his own for the first time in forever. I get my text books out of my locker, throwing hate notes and junk that other people put in there and glance over at Kyle.

"Hey, fag," I smirk a little. He ignores me, and I grab one of those hate notes, screw it up into a ball and throw it at his head. It hits him square on, but he still ignores it. I hum a quiet laugh to myself. Oh boy, you have no idea what's coming to you. This is gonna more than make up for all you've done to me. I slam my locker shut and walk off to my first lesson, for the first time, not skulking along and trying to hide. No one hassles me as I go, and I gotta tell you, it feels fucking awesome.

First lesson: music. Music = Danny.

I walk in, sitting in my usual seat at the back, waiting for Mr F to give us our independent work. I watch with a small smile as he sits at the front of the class. I screw up bits of paper and throw them at him. Even when he ignores me, I keep it up. Mr F announces that today, we will be continuing with our work from last time, in the same pairs. I raise a hand.

"Yes, Damien?" he asks tiredly.

"But sir, I don't want to work with a fag." He closes his eyes and looks like he's trying to muster the energy to answer back. A few people giggle quietly.

"Don't use that kind of language, Damien."





"That one's not even related to homosexuality," he shakes his head, exasperated.

"But that's what he is, sir."

"You're gay too, twat!" Danny finally retaliates. I pull a confused face.

"Did anyone hear something?"

"Whatever," he mutters, fucking off into my studio. Uh, I don't think so, gay boy.  One of Kyle's ‘friends' gives me a look that sort of says I'm earning a little respect at last. I get up, twirling my drum sticks around my fingers as I walk into the studio.

"Out the studio, faggot," I snap, shoving past him to get to the drum kit, "the studio's out of bounds."

"I don't care, my violin's in there!"

"Then find somewhere else to keep it," I tell him. It's not exactly hard. there's a store room for people to keep their stuff in the music room.

"Well at least let me get it." I pretend to think about it for a moment.


"You can't, please!" he pleads with me, but I walk into the studio, slamming the door in his face and locking the coded lock from the inside.

"Bastard! Give me my violin!" I hear his muffled shouting over him banging on the wood, but I ignore him, looking for his precious violin. I flip open the case and see the much loved instrument inside. "Give it!" he yells. I detune every string and pull my pen knife out of my bag. I cut through the thinner strings, not quite willing to blunt my knife on his fucking violin, and scratch ‘FAG' into the back of it. "Please," he practically begs me and I smile slightly, putting it back in its case. Closing it, I unlock the door and throw the case out into the classroom.

And with that, I get on with my drumming practice.


At lunch, I go to the cafeteria in hope that Danny or Kyle will be there. I spot Danny and hover, waiting to see which table he'll head for so that he doesn't have a chance to avoid me. When he walks down, I quickly sit, sticking my foot out as he passes me. He trips, dropping his food all over the floor. He gets up, ignoring me, and starts to walk away.

"Hey, fag, aren't you gonna clean that up?" he holds his violin close and hurries off, still ignoring me. I abandon my lunch, following him until I catch up. I grab the back of his shirt and stop him. "Did you not hear me, queer boy?" I snarl, "I said, clean up your fucking mess."

"Get off me," he says, turning and back handing me. I barely blink before I punch him square in the face.

"Clean up your fucking mess, or I'll fucking make you."

"Damien, if I can beat Josh Quinn, I can beat you," he informs me, kneeing me in the balls. I grunt and do my best not to double over. I recover quicker than most people would and twist his arms behind him, forcing him to his knees. He moves his foot back to trip me up, but it backfires on him, ‘cause I fall onto him, slamming his head into the floor.

Moaning, he rolls over, trapping me under him. I'm about to make a joke about it, but he cuts me off with a punch to my face. I laugh at him. He's got a way to beat the pain I've been in from the withdrawals, to be honest. He keeps hitting me, lifting my head up and cracking it down on the floor, and I keep laughing.

Not long after, a teacher walks in and catches him beating the fuck out of me. With a snarl, Danny gets up, grabs his violin and spits on me, trying to walk off. No such luck, darling. The teacher grabs him and tell him he's suspended.

As I sit up, he punches the teacher in the face, "Get the fuck off me you stupid prick." He walks off, leaving the teacher clutching his face and me sat there spitting out blood, grinning. 


The End

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