Day 8| Part II

       I entered in the common room shaking like a freak.

        That place was huge, bright and wild. There were little round tables and vintage chairs all made of wood, and various types of trees perfectly organized in earth grounds every 32 feet. I could see Californian palm trees wrapped with Russian pines and Brazilian baobabs. How could such enormous trees grow like that, if they were on the second floor?

       People were also everywhere, jumping, talking, yelling and cuddling; but no one seemed to care about me or my nervous-almost-dying face. I was begging attention... but no one seemed to see...

         That guy's touch, his fingers, were the worse thing I had ever felt. I was afraid of what I could find if I looked down at the place he touched. I felt like crying, like throwing up.

       The round tables little by little became rectangular and chairs were replaced by benches. Fried potatoes took the place of the Amazon perfume, and I realized I was at a refectory, inside the Common Room. Zoey and Sky were there. I went towards them without breathing, my fists closed tight, my palms were wet, and it was a relief to see them..!

       "ANGELINA! What happened to you??!"

       "Shh, Sky!" I tried to hide from the curious eyes that turned to me at the moment. Then I told them, as low as possible, that I was attacked somehow, and didn't know what to do.

        Zoey jumped out of the bench and hugged me. I felt her sweet girlish perfume filling my lungs, and then Sky's arms closed around me too. "Who attacked you?" They looked very concerned. I tried to remember the bad guy's name, but it had vanished from my mind. The only thing I remembered was...

       "Who... who is Vince Snowfields?"

        They frowned at once. Then looked for the answer in each other's faces, but both were visibly disorientated.

       "You mean Oliver Snowfields." Sky tried to correct, and nodded at the table in our left. Oliver was there with a girl. They had their backs turned to us, but I could recognize Anna by her beautiful waved hair. We couldn't see their faces, but they were obviously super involved with each other.

       I felt nausea.

       Zoey gulped and started pulling me toward the trees, away from them- but my foot was glued on the floor. "Let's get out!" She insisted, pulling my arm harder.

        "Zoey..?" Sky nudged her shoulder.

       "What??!"

       Sky pointed at somewhere above the tables. "...I think you won't want to leave now..."

       I turned to see what was happening, although nothing would make my day any worse. My eyes went wide. The tattooed guy was marching directly to Oliver's table. And I suddenly remembered his name.

        "SNOWFIELDS!" Damon roared, pulling people out of his way- or, in fact, people were already jumping out of his way by themselves.

        Damon took Oliver by his shirt. Anna screamed, and the hole saloon got silent and still.

       Oliver blinked at him in disbelief. "Damon? What do you want??"

        "YOUR HEAD, SNOWFIELDS! I'm going to take your pretty eyes out and hang your pretty face on my toilet's door!!"

        "Let him go!" Anna shouted.

        "SHUT UP, LITTLE BITCH!" Damon placed one of his hands above Oliver's cheeks. Just a few inches separated their skin.

  Oliver stayed immobile. I could see his brain working slowly, as the smart brains usually do, because everything he said could mean his vision or blindness. "Damon... AAARGH!"

       A finger had touched him right under his eyes. Oliver's body retracted, making his blouse tear from Damon's fist. He tottered backwards while pressing the injury, and raised his other hand above Damon's head. Instantly, a mass of dirty snow fell on his cropped hair; like a big gooey putrid poop.

        It felt as though the salon had just seen Oliver do a magic trick. Everyone let out a laugh, a common chuckle, everybody together including me, and it went more funny when Oliver said:

       "You look better than ever, Damon! I think you should keep the new look..."

         He never looked so beautiful.

        I don't know if Damon was angry or ashamed; probably both. His face got a funny shade of red and his eyes seemed to want to burn someone alive. He slipped the dirt from his head, and went forward with both hands pointed to Oliver's throat. He was fast, and the speed of it made me gasp- because I knew his touch could destroy another's skin.

       Oliver, as crazy if might sound, kept his body extremely calm while Damon lunged selfishly towards him. He then united his eyebrows.

       And nodded.

       Damon suddenly hit himself against a wall appeared from nowhere. The force of the crash pushed him backwards, knocking him down.

"I don't want to humiliate you, friend. Please tell me what I did and we can discuss it." Oliver said.

       "You know what you've done... You are going to pay for it." Damon spat, holding his nose, that was already full of green snow.

"Pay for what?"

"SHIT, SNOWFIELDS! I SAW HIM!"- Damon shouted- "I SAW HIM AND HE JUST STOLE SOMETHING FROM ME! IF I DON'T GET IT BACK, YOU ARE THE ONE WHO IS GOING TO DIE!"

With that, Damon turned his back to us, and left the whole place as quiet as an abandoned church.