Wake Up (Damein/ Darkiplier Fanfiction)

C H A P T E R •T W O•(P A R T O N E)

Paige:

After a bit I felt calm enough to go inside. Damien held the door open for me and I stepped inside, sending him a thankful smile. 

The poker game seemed to be over, darts the new subject, a keg now in the middle of the room. I sent a worried glance towards Damien. With a smile, he put his hand on my shoulder, then walked past me, voice booming as he made jokes. 

(Y/N) walked up to me and offered me a cup of beer. With a smile I shook my head. "I can't." They sent me a look of confusion. "I'm... Allergic." They sent me a knowing nod while I was kicking myself for the hesitation. (Y/N) strode off, and I couldn't help but admire them. District Attorney, a path in life, a solid future. 

As gracefully as I could I walked over to the game, picking up a dart and flipping it over my knuckles like I had learned to do with a pick years ago. "I'll play winner," I announced and got drunken okays in response. I lifted myself up onto the small table set up with drinks and empty glasses. Picking up a champagne glass, I twirled it in my hands, never one to sit still. William won a bit later, and I lost to him. The games lasted for a while before everyone, sans Markiplier, was drunk around me. 

"How are you holding up?" Damien asked, stumbling to my side, words slurred. I just laughed and shook my head. 

"I'm having fun. And you, my friend, are very drunk." I noted, seeing as he couldn't stand still, slightly swaying. It was weird to see him like this, not elegant and poised, but loose and messy. It was a change I couldn't quite decide if I liked or not. 

"I meant in life. When you talk you seem so sad." His face stretched in an exaggerated frown and his words slurred, "The only time you seem to to be happy is when you're talking about others. And during your concerts, of course. But you don't have many of those. Why don't you?" The words were talking out of his mouth and they looked to be as new to his ears as they were to mine. 

"I didn't know you've been to any of my concerts," I responded, avoiding the questions. 

"I've been to all of them." He said, maybe trying to mumble it, but his drunken state must have mixed quiet and loud, because his voice echoed with the sheer volume of it when he spoke and he seemed sheepish afterwords, "I just didn't tell you, afraid that you wouldn't like it. But, shh, don't tell Paige that. I don't want her to be mad as well." 

"Damien. I'm Paige." I laughed, knowing I couldn't take anything he said in this state to seriously, he didn't know who he was talking to, nonetheless what he was talking about. 

"Oh." His pupils widened in the flashing lights. "I'm going to go get another drink." He said and stumbled over to the keg. I shook my head and watched him clumsily poor himself a cup, spilling quite a bit on the ground. 

(Y/N) stumbled past, also very drunk, and I swept a chair out of their way before they could trip on it. They sent me a sheepish smile before disappearing to the restrooms. I sat on an armchair near the front of the room, feeling as though I was seven again, watching over my drunken father. I shook off the memory, not wanting to go done that path tonight. Those were memories I could visit when I was alone. When I wasn't standing in the middle of a party. 

"Feels like babysitting, watching them while sober, doesn't it?" I heard Mark ask. I whipped my head around to see him standing and twirling around a familiar object in his fingers. 

"Is that my ring?" I asked, feeling for it on my finger. Not finding it I sent him an accusatory glance. 

"Yes. It's a very pretty ring. He gave it to you, didn't he?" Mark nodded his head to Damien doing a keg stand. I smiled lightly at him, he seemed to be having a genuinely good time. I nodded my head yes at his query. "Yes, I thought as such. You left it by the sink in the kitchens. I'm guessing that you helped Chef clean up?" I flushed and mumbled a yes sheepishly. I always felt bad leaving people to clean up by themselves, even if it was their job. Mark tucked my ring into his pocket. "I'll give it to you later, it's dirty." 

"You don't have to cl-" Mark walked away in the middle of my word. Shrugging it off, I went over to Damien who had stood up from the keg by now and was receiving cheers from his friends. 

"Hey Paige!" His voice was too loud, words muddy, joining and breaking at the wrong spots. "Did you see?" He waved to the keg and I nodded with a forced laugh. 

I hated drinking, I hated drunk people, but I never said anything, a habit from my youth that I grew to get used to.

"We're playing cards again." Mark announced. I raised an eyebrow at him. It hardly seemed fair to play against the drunken men and rob them of their money. "You should play Paige. I bet that you can beat them now that their drunk. Maybe." Mark smiled and took a sip out of his glass. I knew it wasn't alcohol, as he couldn't drink, but that was it, the rest was a mystery. "Actually, thinking it through, I have no idea why I said that. You couldn't beat a pig!" I scowled and grabbed his sleeve in an unusual spree of anger. 

"Mark." I whispered harshly, threateningly. He laughed and continues his pokes and prods, leaving the topic of my incompetent poker skills, touching on other things, my "lacker music", and "over emotional tendency's." 

"Really Paige, don't look so mad, it's the truth." I glares at him. "Fine, shall we reminisce on old memories? You haven't seemed to have lost any of your weight, guess we can't call it baby fat an-"

I reached up and tugged his head slightly down by his hair. "I may be related to you, imbecile, but that gives you no right to speak to me like that." I snarled. With a laugh he brought me outside.

"C'mon, let's take a walk." I unwillingly complied, pulled along by my hand. "Have you talked to your father lately?" He asked and I gasped. 

"No." I said curtly.

"Don't be so emotional, it was just a question. It's never been like you to hold a grudge, so what, you had daddy issues. Get over it." I jerked to a stop. Mark had been there with me my whole life, our fathers were brothers. He was never like this. Something was off. Even still, my blood boiled, despite knowing something was wrong with him. 

"You listen to me. I am slow to anger, but you know that I will heat up and blow up in your face. I have done nothing to you, and if you think me going off is fun party entertainment, don't blame me when someone gets hurt. And, if you continue, I guarantee, it will be you that is hurt."

"Can't... worse... am," was all I could hear him mumble under his breath. 

"What?" I asked, releasing my hand from his grasp, my anger released, leaving me feeling remorseful. Something was wrong with him, and all I had done was tell at him. That wasn't right or wise. 

"Nothing. I am sorry, dearest Paige. I was in the wrong here. Let's join the party again." He still wasn't acting like Mark, but he strode away back into the house anyways, leaving me to follow, running a bit to catch up to his longer legs. 

//

This is half the size of an actual update, sorry it's short, but this isn't an actual update, this is only a Thanksgiving gift. 

sorry if you don't celebrate Thanksgiving, here's a free update if you don't. 

update on schedule soon, but it will only be the other part to this chapter, sorry. 

thanks!

bubbles.