College Vamp

Mounting Pressure (Part 1) (EDITED)

12:06pm

With a loud creak, Damon shut his fridge door, carrying a soda bottle. He slunk into the living room where Lord Aaric sat in the chair adjacent to the couch. He held a glass of water, listening to the record spinning on the player. The four boys from Liverpool were now talking about eggmen, walruses and sitting on cornflakes. Damon flopped on the couch and unscrewed the bottle.

"Sure you don't want anything?" He asked, letting the carbonation hiss out. He flung the bottle cap aside and took a chug.

Aaric shook his head. "I'm fine, though...I am curious."

Damon lowered the bottle and peered over. Aaric pointed to the convex mirror mounted in the corner of the ceiling near him.

"What might be the purpose of that?"

Damon sat back against the cushion. "Had that installed after getting my AC fixed a couple of years ago. Guy fixing it seemed off, especially when outside. So, I got that mirror before he came back to adjust the vents. It's very hard to get a mirror with silver in it nowadays."

"Were your suspicions correct?"

"No reflection whatsoever."

"Well, safe to assume they noticed this too."

"Of course, but I paid him and he went on his merry way."

"Then why the need for it?"

Damon took a light slip, slinking further into the couch. "You grow up in a family like mine, it helps to know what folks really are. I see it as a way of saying they don't have to hide around me."

Aaric looked from him to the mirror again. "Well, just make sure you're always aware."

Damon leaned up, perking an eyebrow. "Of what?"

"Aware of that mirror, because you might look away, turn back and see this."

Aaric held his glass out, moving it around in a floaty pattern. Damon's eyebrow rose higher at the display. However, when he looked in the mirror, he witnessed the cup floating in mid air - possessed by a Shakespearen ghost. A low, drawn out 'ooooooh' scored the sight. Combined with chugs of caffeine, Damon managed to chuckle, but he didn't smile.

He couldn't.

"I know you're trying, Aaric. But, I'm not in a mood that can be fixed easily."

Giving up his charade, Aaric lowered his glass. "I'm aware but, no fault in trying."

The farmer gave an impassioned shrug, leaning back on the couch. "I guess."

"I know it's difficult, given what's on your mind."

"A few names in particular..."

"But, you can't just sit there and caffeinate yourself into a bender. It may be a different bottle, but you're seeking the same result."

Damon slammed the bottle on the side table, shooting a provoked look. "What do you think I've been doing this whole time?"

Aaric kept silent, sitting back.

"I don't know when it started, but I fuckin' noticed when I wasn't allowed to come to things. First me, then Robert, Seblia, we were outed by him. And now, the moment. The time he pushes me too far and I get off my lazy ass to do something. I'm reminded that I can't or else I wind up in a jail cell while my sister is kept in his fuckin' bubble." Damon's fingers dug into the couch cushion, squeezing. The old fabric held against his nails. "So, excuse me if I'm pissed to hell when you tell me I can't do anything."

He snagged his bottle and chugged it down to the last drop. He stared into the ceiling, boring his anger into the skim coat.

"And that I understand." Aaric carefully elaborated. "And I must apologize as well."