Most people, even rich kids, could barely remember every little detail of their early childhood - even if they did have golden pacifiers and designer diapers. Yet Damon could still remember his mother, Glory. While Erika looked more similar to Matthew, Damon looked like Glory. Pretty pale skin, and light blue eyes - that Damon had directly inherited - always hidden by Gucci sunglasses because Matthew was always giving her black eyes.

He had witnessed more of the beatings than Erika had. He'd even help Glory when blood was leaking from her mouth like a faucet. So, when Matthew found her in the pure silver embellished bathtub, cocaine tablets still clutched in her lifeless hand, Damon thought it was for the best.

'Way to be depressing.' He scowled to himself as he parked his father's - well technically Erika's - corvette into the Beverly Wilshire hotel parking lot.

In the busy lobby, he seen the usual hotel residents; celebrities, old money men, and the partygoers of Brett's party. At the far corners where the elevators opened stood Brett, Paisely, and Benny. Damon had made his way towards them until he realized Benny was cursing angrily.

"Mia Matthews? Are you kidding me? She's so irrelevant!" She cried drunkenly and then she let out a muffled scream into Paisely's shoulder.

Damon wasn't in the mood for a cry fest so he headed straight for the party.

He really didn't feel like going to the party but after the expression on Matthew Felix's face at the game, he didn't want to go home either. He was pretty sure his father was going to murder him and dance around his ashes. 

The halls just outside of Brett's venue were filled with East Prep and Alabaster Prep students, all ditching their school attires for sexy mini dresses and Hudson jeans. A  Kanye West song was thundering from the venue and many guests on the same floor were watching the spectacle with dismay.

"Hey, I was wondering when you'd show up." Chris Edwards came through the crowd, hand raised for a high five.

Damon scowled. The last person he wanted to see was Chris. He hadn't seen the rest of the game but thanks to the local sports stations, he knew exactly who made the winning goal.

Chris shrugged. "Just making conversation, damn."

 Damon groaned. "You're just shitting rainbows because Coach is probably going to let you be captain."

"Who said that?" Chris exclaimed seeming disconcerted but then again, everyone knew Chris could be full of crap when he wanted to be. It was one of the reasons why Chris and Erika dating was a pair from Hell in Damon's opinion.

"That's what you guys were talking about back in the locker room." 

They both found themselves in a stare down again. Chris, possessing an innocent surprise and Damon, gritting his teeth and fighting the urge to get into a fight. In the back of his mind, he wondered what happened to them. What had been playful banter had turned into all out war. Nonetheless, Damon knew the answer.

Chris Edwards was jealous of him as  Micheal Kors was to Kate Spade. 

It was Chris who broke the tension.

"Fine, we were talking about it," He grinned smugly. "Coach thinks its time for someone else to shine. You're not the only one with talent-"

"Bullshit." Damon muttered then, turning away from him and pushing through the thinning crowd. The angry bystanders were retreating to their rooms as there was no way they could get the hotel to shut down a Richers party. Damon decided he needed another driink.

Although cigarettes weren't sounding too bad either. Cigarettes kill but the calm buzz they give made it easier for Damon to put up with everyone's crap.

"You can throw a fit over losing your title!" Chris shouted over the music. "But I knew about you and Emma which was pretty fucked up and I didn't say anything."

Damon turned around again. "You deserved it." 

"I deserved it?" Chris snorted. "God, Erika is right, you really are an asshole."

"Does it look like I care?" Damon yelled, causing a few party goers coming out of the venue to stop and watch, hoping for a conflict.

Of course, Erika would be talking crap about him to Chris. That was probably one of the "romantic" things they did together.

The thought of punching Chris, just once, was appealing but Damon knew he had enough bruises to last him months. If he was going to stall his beat down from Matthew, he might as well be doing something he actually wanted to do instead of wasting it on Chris. "I don't have time for this."

He started down the hallway, without even a backwards glance. His next destination; the hotel's bar to use his fake ID and get a beer.

"Yeah, that's right," He heard Chris shout. "Go home and be your father's bitch again."

'Fuck this, fuck this, fuck this.'

Damon turned around, the words - although he'd never admit it - stunning him. There was one thing that could get him rolling. One thing that could make him break. Hell, Jac knew what it was and what it did to him and she still used it when they argued. However, Jac was Jac and  he'd never hurt her.

Chris was a different story.

"What did you say?" Damon said lowly. "I'm gonna give you a chance to fix what you just said."

Chris smirked. "You don't think everyone knows that your Dad hits you? Its practically public news and from what it looks like, you don't win too often, do-"

Damon didn't let him finish his taunt, tackling him to the ground as if they were on the field again and punching him repeatedly. He could hear the excited gasps around him. He could hear the shouts and yells of those trying to stop them but he just couldn't stop.

He couldn't stop. Not even when Chris had two black eyes. In that moment, he wasn't punching Chris, he was punching his father - and it felt too damn good to stop. Plus, Chris had been asking for it for awhile now.

He felt someone grab him roughly, slamming him against the wall and was shocked to see it was Seth Montador who was, next to Connor Royce, one of the weakest on the team. After tearing him away from Chris, he held a glare towards both of them.

Chris sat upright, his hands covering his right, swollen, purple eye.  Now they both had black eyes.

Damon couldn't help snicker. "Might wanna put hashtag twinsies on your next Instagram post."

"Fuck you." Chris groaned just as Paisely Mont Vernon burst through the hovering crowd to his side.

"Oh my gosh, Chris, are you okay?" She whimpered, caressing his face gently and helping him up to his feet. His actual girlfriend, however, was nowhere to be found.

"What the hell is wrong with you guys?" Seth hissed. "We're team mates."

"Thats a load of crap," Chris snapped. "Damon only cares about himself. Thats why he injured Royce."

"It was a fucking accident!" Damon shouted although Chris had hit the bull's eye on that one.

Brett's cursing as he weaved his way through the crowd interrupted them. He had come from the lobby and now looked like he had just been told he was being cut off from his parents' bank accounts. "Jesus Christ, did you guys really have to fuck up the party?" Shaking his head, Brett turned to everyone else. "Nothing to see here, go get drunk or throw money or something."

Once everyone had thinned out, he pulled out a handful of Ectasy pills from the pocket of his Hudson jeans, picked up a champagne bottle laying lazily on the floor and took the E in one gulp."Way to be a buzz kill, Damon."

"Its not my fault Chris wants to be Gossip Girl soooo bad." Damon sighed.

"Thats some bull - ugh!" Chris grimaced, hands flying out to cover his eye again. 

"Maybe I should find some towels?" Paisely suggested sweetly and Damon was surprised the girl wasn't raging drunk like she usually was at parties. 

"That would be great." Chris gave her a smile that obviously wasn't just friendly before she went back into the venue.

"You guys need to get it together," Seth urged. "We're friends for crying out loud."

"Besides this is my fault," Brett piped up, taking a long swig of champagne. "I'm the one that gave you the Anabolic."

"That doesn't have anything to do with this." Damon said.

"Yes, it is," Brett hung his head sheepishly. "I forgot that stuff makes you really aggressive especially when its laced."

"It was laced and you didn't tell me?" Damon hissed, forcing himself to unclench his fists.

"Hey, I was pretty wasted myself," Brett cried defensively. "Besides, it only had a pint of Aderall."

That explained everything from the Connor Royce tackle to his fight with Chris. He never would have done any of that stuff if he wasn't on it - well, he wasn't sure about the fight with Chris. He was pretty sure that still would have happened eventually.

"You took steroids?" Seth gasped.

Chris snickered. "I knew you weren't that fast."

Damon forced himself to ignore Chris' comment. "Fuck this party,  I'm getting out of here." Damon started down the hall.

"You can't just leave a Brett Richer's party!" Brett protested.

Damon, however, kept walking - and wasn't surprised when, this time, Chris didn't voice any more remarks.

 He didn't end up at the hotel bar. Instead he went back to the parking lot, leaned on the hood of his - or Erika's - corvette and smoked a cigarette. He resisted the urge to throw up, telling himself that once he got used to the habit, it wouldn't be so bad.

Damon couldn't help but think of Jac and wonder if she was at the party right now, doing exactly what she had said she was going to do. He wondered if she was with another guy and dancing with him, or even kissing him - Damon snuffed his cigarette out along with that disgusting thought.

He had to remember what he said earlier. He was no good for her. If Jac wanted to move on to some loser, well, he didn't really have a say. So maybe breaking that 8,000 dollar ring was a little excessive but it was the right thing to do. At least, thats what he was telling himself.

Getting in the car - and admiring the sleek interior - he pulled out a bottle of Crown Ambassador beer he'd bought with his fake ID on the way to the party and popped it open, taking a long drink before starting up the car.

He wasn't sure where to go. Home was out of the question and the party wasn't really a good idea anymore. He was just driving aimlessly through the glittering streets, listening to the annoying mainstream radio.

As he stopped at a red light on the empty streets of a slum neighborhood, Damon took another gulp of beer, just as the lights above switched to green. Multitasking, taking swigs of beer while driving with his free hand, Damon hastily caught up with the time of the light - and realized he drove ahead too far into the peasant neighborhood.

He cursed, desperately turning the wheel - and dropping his beer in the process - and trying to correct his mistake only to botch his U-turn, crashing right into something too dark to see.

'This night can't get any worse,' He thought to himself as he lifted his head from the steering wheel. Despite the fact he had been drunk and high off of steroids, he'd still remembered to have a seat belt on. Unhooking the belt, he looked in the rearview mirror - only to finally notice the damage. He had ran the corvette into a street lamp.

The rearview mirror was cracked.

The car wouldn't start.

The hood was shredded metal.

Damon fell back in his chair, heart pumping wildly at the thought of Matthew figuring out what happened to his precious corvette. If Matthew was going to kill him for the game, he was going to send him to Hell now.

"Hey, open up."

Damon took a deep sigh before looking towards the driver window - and scowled.

There was a cop, flashing a light in his face. Unfourtanetly, he was wrong. The night could get worse. Damon lowered the window so the cop could talk, but at the same time he shoved the Crown Ambassador beer bottle underneath his seat.

"Yeah, I know, my car is fucked up." Damon said as blandly as possible.

Then the cop lowered his flashlight.

"Fuck." Damon hissed for the fourth time tonight.

"Well, nice to see you again, partner." It wasn't just any cop. It was the same hillbilly  who had arrested him at the last party and from the looks of the man's evil grin, Damon wouldn't be bribing him tonight.

---------------

So this was only Damon's part b/c this is technically still the same chapter as the last update. I was just scared it'd be too long for you guys. Please let me know if 8  to 10 pages is overwhelming b/c I could just put the chapters in parts if its too much!

Thank you to those who continue to read! It makes my day and makes me feel really good to see feedback so don't forget to comment your thoughts cx