Around seven pm, Damon had returned home with dozens of bags from expensive shops along with James. Damon knew that all these clothes would make him happy for a short time, but it didn't matter to him. Happiness is still happiness. His sister had finished the party's preparations here and an hour and enjoyed a glass of whiskey. She was lost in her book, not giving her brother any attention as usual when he stepped into the living room. Damon scoffed, letting the bags down as James closed the door behind.

"Hello, Deetra."

Deetra perked up when she heard James' voice, her whole face lighting up. She stood up, letting the book down and rushing to hug him. Damon rolled his eyes while James was spinning her around, laughing like a kid. James could feel his face being crimson red and his heartbeat speeding up, but he tried to ignore it. Deetra seemed so pretty under the living room's lights, her hair up in a messy bun.

"Why you didn't say you were back!?"

"Wanted to surprise you, but Damon caught me."

He chuckled, looking at Damon as he chuckled back, getting the clothes out of the bags.

"So, I got you from France a beautiful dress - I swear you'll love it."

He smiled, grabbing it carefully from a black bag and showing it. Deetra's eyes glimpsed as she stared at the dress. It was amazing, a short cherry red dress. It was elegant, and the fabric felt so soft between her fingers. She held it as a smile filled her lips. James would always show his affection towards the twins, and especially Deetra, with small unique gifts. Well, a red dress isn't uncommon, but to Deetra's eyes, it was. She hugged him tightly, kissing his cheek and leaving a small mark from her lipstick behind. James was beyond happy, but he tried to hide it by coughing and pushing his hands nervously in the pockets of his jacket. He rubbed the mark away with quick movements, still being a nervous wreck.

On the other side of the room, Damon had already chugged half a bottle of gin, not caring about them. He was looking through his high school album when he realized that a photo was missing. He bit his thumb's nail, anxious, trying to remember if he put it somewhere. It was a good photo, one of his favourites. Damon would look through the high school's album a lot as high school was one of his best and last good memories.

"Hey, stop you two. There's a photo missing from my high school album."

"And?"

"This album is important to me!"

"Whatever, Damon."

Damon growled at his friend's comment before closing the album. He sipped some more gin and lit up a cigarette, sighing. He wondered if he would wake up with another random chick tomorrow morning, a sexy model with a fried brain. He left Deetra and James behind, going slow to his office, and closed the door back. He opened the window, taking a big breath before opening a small packet of white powder. He licked his index before pushing it in the powder. He rubbed his finger onto his gums and sat down on his leather chair.

Damon was feeling too good to face his phone, which was beeping. It was almost ten pm, but he didn't care. Cocaine had already taken effect here and a couple of hours, and he knew it. Everything was spinning around to his eyes, and a wave of bliss and happiness had taken over his body. He didn't even remember if he had done more cocaine after that rub or not. He smiled, almost bursting into laughter and losing his senses. Damon brought his fingers to his eyes, rubbing them gently and coughing.

"I need a nice girlfriend... A woman that loves me uncontrollably for who I am and not for the drugs... Smart, pretty... Maybe not drug-addicted...."

Damon laughed before coughing again. He tried to picture a perfect girlfriend, but his mind was too dizzy. He grabbed a cigar opening it carefully before removing the tobacco. His hands were trembling badly, and he almost cut himself with his pocket knife. He cursed under his breath and stuffed it with marijuana before giving it a good lick. He tried to burn it with his lighter but ended yelling because he burned his finger. Damon started to get angry, so he just pushed the blunt to his lips, lighting it up. He moved next to the window looking outside while smoking. His eyes were red as he leaned on his arm, starring at the sky.

Sooner or later, his guests would arrive, and he would have to act clean and friendly for a couple of minutes before dipping back to drugs. He couldn't wait to meet new potential clients and show off his egoistic self. He knew Deetra and James would make fun of him while watching him stumble around and make out with random people. To Damon, drugs were the only thing keeping him sane, even if they were killing him slowly. He secretly hoped his sister would find a husband soon so he'll be sure that she won't be left alone when he'll die.

Damon knew that drugs would be the end of him and eventually would push him to the ground. He knew they were secret slow killers taking away a man from his family, his friends. Damon didn't have anything to live for, though. To him, Deetra was an unlucky person that ended up being his sister. James was cursed to be his friend until the day he died. And that day, to his eyes, was coming soon. Maybe it was better if he never gets a girlfriend or kids.

Damon opened his eyes; a ringing sound was taking over the room again. It was his phone. He cursed, answering it with a half-serious tone.

"Yes?"

"Sir, we start checkups soon. Is there anything else you need?"

"No. Be quick. How many people are there?"

"Almost one hundred, Sir. Some already look quite suspicious."

"You know what to do if you catch up with anyone with electronics, guns, or knives."

"Yes, sir."

Damon ended the call sighing in need of a shower. Deetra had a conversation with James when Damon locked himself in the bathroom to relax and enjoy some cold water against his limbs. He brought his hands to his forehead and then through his hair, trying desperately to take the smell of weed off him. The water felt salutary, like washing his sins off his pathetic self. Damon usually didn't take good care of himself, maybe because he was busy, drunk, or high most of the time. He was trying to get better to please Deetra, but it wasn't easy. His body was looking again and again for some cocaine or anything strong enough to make him pass out.

As he was fixing his black tie, he looked at himself in the mirror. Black circles, red eyes, sharp cheekbones. He was a total mess; his fingers started trembling when he tried to brush his hair. He tried to ignore it, but he couldn't. His eyelids felt heavy; his body was slowly abandoning him. He grabbed the hairbrush, and with slow movements, brush his hair to the one side.

He cursed, going back to the living room and grabbed the bottle of gin, bringing it to his lips. He starred at it before leaving it back on the table. Deetra and James were left amazed when they saw him grab a small glass and fill it with sparkling water. Damon was disgusted by the taste, but he drank the whole glass.

"Did you just drink...water?"

"Yes..."

"Wow..."

Even Damon's organs were surprised when they felt water in the body. Maybe because he was addicted to coffee and alcohol. Deetra smiled, pleased with the bit of step that her brother took. It was something in front of her eyes.

Damon smiled back before letting the glass on the counter. He was proud of himself too. He could try and improve his life. No more secret affairs and one-night stands. He would try his best and make his sister even more proud. Well, for him, tonight's one-night stand would be the last.

Meanwhile, Abigail and Mason were waiting in a parking lot in the middle of nowhere with many celebrities. Each one was scrutinized, and some of them were already kicked out of it. A couple of gunshots could be heard each time a person was left out of Damon's little party because they violated his rules.

Mason gulped when he realized that his time would come soon. He moved his fingers closer to Abigail. She jumped, being as stressed as him, before turning her head slowly. He looked at her and started biting his fingers' nails anxiously.

"We are going to be fine. We don't have anything on us that's illegal."

She whispered, sure of herself, before patting his shoulder.

"He kills them, Abigail. So many small actors and singers go missing and don't make it to the news. It's all because of him."

He spoke aggressively before cracking his knuckles. Mason was already ready to fight whoever to protect Abigail and him.

"Calm down now, dear. We don't need trouble already."

"I. am. trying."

"Well, try more, Mason. Pick your shit up."

She scoffed before eyeing a guard taking a gun out of a woman's bag.

The guard inspected it before looking at the woman. The woman fixed her dress, trying to seem surprised that the gun was in her expensive bag. The man sighed before giving it to another guard.

"Miss, guns are prohibited."

"It's not mine! Someone trapped me!"

"Follow the guards, please."

Two other guards, tall and muscular, grabbed the poor woman pulling her away behind a couple of cars. There was crying and yelling and then a fatal shot. Everyone was silent, and no one was questioning anything.

"Next."

The man continued as Mason stepped beside him. Another guard checked him from head to toes before giving a sign to the first guard.

"Name."

"Lester."

"Lester Allen?"

"Yes, sir."

Lester Allen was a bright young singer that had started his career recently in Great Britain. He was hiding his face, so no one knew who he really was. This was a plus for them.

"It's a pleasure to have you here, Mr Lester. Are you alone?"

"I am with my girlfriend, Anne."

Mason pointed at Abigail as she smiled softly, fixing the bracelets around her wrists with sweaty fingers.

"My boss will be beyond happy to have you around. Just give us a minute to examine your girlfriend, and we'll escort you both to a limousine."

The man started looking through Abigail's bag after checking her. He raised his eyebrow, taking out a pair of tweezers.

"What's this, ma'am?"

"Tweezers."

"You can't have this on you, ma'am."

"Oh, I didn't know it. I am so sorry. Lester, darling, you didn't tell me anything about tweezers!"

Abigail crossed her arms as Mason's shoulders stressed up, fearing for her life.

"Oh, it's okay, ma'am. You can have it back. You aren't dangerous anyway."

The guard laughed, handing it back. Mason sighed softly, relieved as Abigail pushed it back into her handbag.

"Plus, I wanna say that your dress is magnificent, ma'am. Mind me asking where you bought it from? My boyfriend would love it."

"Oh, of course! It was from a german website, but I can write it down for you."

He handed his phone, and Abigail typed down the website.

"Thank you so much! I hope you both have an amazing night. Frederic, take them to the limousine, please."

"Yes, sir."

Another man, named Frederic apparently, guided them to a limousine and let them get comfortable.

"I'll be back soon, Mr Lester, to take you to the party."

He smiled, leaving as Mason rolled his eyes.

"Really!? Let me give you the website!? We're not here to be friends with gay bodyguards, Abigail."

"Oh shut up, crybaby. First of all, maybe he was bisexual, pansexual, anything, and not gay. Second of all, relax a bit and try to act like "Lester" would. At least we know Damon isn't a racist piece of shit."

"Oh yeah. He is just a piece of shit."

The man returned, holding two black silk ribbons.

"I have to tie your eyes, Mr Lester."

"Why?"

"It's our boss' policy. No one must know where his mansion is. He fears that the government and not only will try harder to find him sooner or later. Anyone could be an agent or a spy."

"Oh... We understand."

The man nodded before tying both Abigail's and Mason's eyes. She moved her head to Mason's shoulder, relaxing. On the other side, Mason started tensing up when he felt her head against his body.

Frederic started driving as they heard one last gunshot for the evening. The car smelled like roses, and expensive cologne and the seats were leather and comfortable. The atmosphere felt so strange, though. Being with tied eyes in an expensive car with a stranger that works for Damon.

"You look like such an adorable couple."

Frederic broke the silence. He was looking at them from the car's rear view mirror.

"Thank you so much! We've been together for half a year!"

"That's so nice. We're almost here."

Mason got stressed again as Abigail moved closer to him. She started drumming her fingers on his lap, mumbling a melody softly. He puffed, moving his hand again on hers. She smiled, even if he couldn't see it.

Abigail wanted to confess her feelings so much, but something inside her told her to wait a bit more. Maybe it was fear, but she didn't know. So, she waited.

On the other hand, Mason wanted to confess his love to her soon. He didn't care if he was scared or not - He had to make her his before anyone take his position. He didn't want to stay in the friend zone any longer. What if a new man appears in her life? That thought was terrifying to him.

"We're here, Mr Lester. You can take your ribbons off."

The car stopped as they took them off. Mason rubbed his eyes, cursing as Abigail looked outside the window.

A big mansion could be seen a few meters away, dipped in luxury, and a bunch of different coloured cars; most of them were black. People of all ages were walking it, and loud music could be heard.

Frederic opened the door as Abigail snapped out. She walked out of the car with Mason.

"I hope you have a wonderful evening, Mr Lester and Miss Anne."

He fixed his jacket before getting back in the car and driving away.

"So... We are here."

"Yes."

"Let's get in and... find him?"

"We'll split, and whoever finds him kills him. The same goes for his sister."

"I'll take Damon and try to seduce him, and you will have Deetra."

"But wait - How we know they are straight!? It's not nice guessing someone's sexuality, Abigail!"

Mason grinned as she punched his chest with force.

"Ouch!"

"Shut up, and let's just do it. I want to return home already. This whole atmosphere makes me uncomfortable already."

A/n: Remember to comment, like and add the book to your libary if you liked it :)