The Boy in Black

What is Done in the Dark Will be Brought to the Light

Scene 1

5 months Prior

Damian had a rough start his Junior year; the death of his father and his mother's announcement she would remarry had previously derailed his sophomore year as well. It was bad enough she'd taken Todd as a bedfellow, but to marry him was an insult to reason and dignity alike.

Did she just not value him? Damian thought, embittered, halfway through his third red solo-cup of whiskey and ginger ale. His thoughts slurred in his head, trying to wrap his mind around such a shameful union, and concluded his mother truly must not have. Not even a little. He took a deep swig, trying to swallow his resentment, but it was too bitter and made his stomach turn.

With some effort, he looked around the room, hoping for any sort of distraction to occupy his thoughts. But there was little solace found in the shallow sorority girls frivolously playing with their perfect hair. Or the honor students trying to seem more mysterious than they were. Either way, they couldn't offer anything meaningful, too caught up in the false pretenses of independence. Damian didn't mind. If anything, it suited him better when there was no emotional attachment. However, in that instant, he couldn't help but resent their misguided motivations and wondered why he even bothered. False connections, false friends, false hope: it was all too much, yet far too little all at once—an infinite oblivion.

Damian downed another sip in spite of it all, longing for a time when life had more zest, when the night didn't seem so long. And as if some ethereal force had set its course, she was there.

"Raven?" he pondered as she emerged from the crowd. She didn't notice him at first, as her attention was elsewhere. "Raven?" he said again, taking a few steps toward her and reached out.

The Empath swerved at his touch, mistaking his ill temper for another's. She turned, ready to pull back in recoil, when she noted Damian's confusion, comforted at the sight of his face.

"Damian..." Raven stammered. "I thought you—" she stopped short, correcting the course. "I didn't think you'd be here."

He studied her smile, entangled in self-consciousness that wasn't typical of her. "Bad night... What about you—you okay?"

She nodded after hesitating. "Yeah, I'm just here for the tournament tomorrow. What about you? How've you been?"

"Better," he replied with a coldness that couldn't help but bite her.

She glanced down at the red cup in his hand. "I see you've been hitting it pretty hard."

He shook his head and took a sip. "Gotta celebrate my mother's engagement somehow."

"Engagement?"

"To Todd."

Raven's face fell as the pieces revealed their greater context. "Let me get your next round, then."

Scene 2

Current Day

Tara awoke hungover, her face a mess from sleeping in the makeup she drunkenly put on. This wasn't uncommon: drinking too much and letting her insecurities get the better of her. It was partially why Slade avoided answering her calls.

She sluggishly pushed herself off the couch and reached for her cigarettes. Walking through the house, she appraised the mess she'd made and stepped out onto the porch. She lit her vice and deeply inhaled, looking at her phone to find a text from Slade.

I told you only to call me if there's an emergency. For our mission to succeed, I require that you act professional.

It took all she had not to throw the phone down and stomp on it, but she learned after the third trashed android, it did little to fix anything. Just a feeble attempt to appease her anger and hurt. However, coming completely to her senses was not something that was natural to Tara Markov.