Thank God You're Gay!

Chapter 9:

Chapter 9:

Damien’s POV:

I stepped out of the shower grabbing a tower to dry myself.

I stared at my own reflection in the mirror, examining my perfect self.

Square face. High cheek bones. Eyes with the color of the sky. Hair made from the sun lights. Not to mention my well-built body of Ryan Reynolds.

And yes, I’ve seen his movies.

“Oh, why do I look so much like a god?” I asked myself, smirking at myself.

I swear if it wasn’t so gay, I would fall in love myself.

“Oh right! I’ve been this way since my mother gave birth to me.” I answered my own question.

“Well. I got that thanks to my parents.”

Though my parents gave me and Mia this wealthy life we’re having, they have never been around much when we were little. We were raised by the hand of our house keeper, Mr. Robinson. When my mother gave birth to Mia they started spending more time with their children but it was only for a while. My parents were all about work. They traveled all over the world because of their jobs. They were rarely home. Me and Mia only got to see them like twice or three times a year and each time only last for a few weeks.

I mean, sure, it’s nice to be rich, but why do you need to make so much money? I’m pretty my family will have enough money to survive for the rest of our lives even if my parents stop working. Isn’t it better to just have some quality with your kids, care for them, and talk to them? Unless you hate your children.

My parents had never been any of my football games. They were never there when I won my first trophy or when I broke my arm. And every times they got home; they would talk about their work, about how much money they made or about world peace. They never asked us how things were going at school, or how we felt.  

When I was little I often wondered if my parents hated me, but now I just stopped caring.

Now, as long as they keep sending me money than I’m happy.

I wiped a tear off my eye.

What am I doing here, thinking shit about my crappy parents? I got a party to get ready for. I need to get laid tonight. My teenage hormones are making me crazy.

I quickly dried my hair, checking myself for the last time before I walked out of the bathroom.

I put on a V-neck tee with a pair of dark skinny jeans, put on my sneakers, and sprayed some cologne on my neck.

I went downstairs to find Sophie screaming at people about preparing this party.

Yep, Sophie’s my party planner.

“You, start pouring chips into bowls. Dude, where’s the dippers? It’s the light ready? Where’s the alcohol? Go get the alcohol! This is a high school party, not a 6-years-old’s birthday party!” Sophie yelled at her ‘team’, holding a checklist.

I walked to her, giving her weird eyes. This woman sure knows how to freak a man out.

She saw me. “Well, hello, boss.”

“Hello. You seem… crazy.” I said, shoving my hands into my pockets.

“Oh please, this is as calm as I can get.” She pff-ed.

She pointed at a guy with glitter all over him. “You. What do you think you’re doing? Those are decorations, not make-ups.”

I, again, gave her a weird look. “Anyways, Alex’s coming, right?”