The Actress and the Prince

•Chapter 31•

After sleeping for what felt like three seconds, a loud and obnoxious knocking on my door woke me up. I groaned and shoved my head under my pillow, hoping the person would go away. They didn't. I stayed quiet, hoping that maybe they'd assume I was peacefully sleeping.

"Jess...?"

I shot up. There was no way who I thought I heard was at my door. There was no way. I slowly and quietly slipped out of bed and tiptoed to the door, peeking through the peep hole.

Why is Damien waking me up early in the morning?

I then noticed something else.

Why does he look like he's crying?

I immediately unlocked the door and opened it. He hastily wiped his eyes, quietly sniffling.

"Hey," I placed my hand on his shoulder. "Damien, what's wrong?" Now that I knew that he actually had feelings, it made me sick to my stomach to see him so upset.

"I-I didn't know who else to talk to," Damien's voice wobbled, but he laughed. "Shit, I have no friends."

I opened the door wider, letting him walk into the room. I closed the door and watched as he kept wiping his eyes, trying to hide it. I walked over to him.

"Now tell me what's wrong, Damien," I demanded quietly.

He looked down at his shoes.

"Damien, I know we literally just met," I tried to not look into his eyes, but it was hard. "But honestly, if you need anyone to talk to, I'm here for you. Okay?"

Damien nodded slightly, still staring at his shoes.

"That means that you can tell me why you're upset," I tipped his chin up with my index finger, forcing him to look at me. I hadn't noticed before, but his eyes were a brilliant shade of green.

"I'm not upset," he defended. "I'm conflicted."

"What?"

He shook his head. "Actually, it's nothing," he backed away from me. "Damn, I shouldn't have...sorry. This was stupid. I'll just go."

I couldn't even say anything before he left.

I stood there for ten minutes, feeling vunrable. Damien had just cried in front of me, someone he barely even knew. He chose to not talk to his ex-bestfriends. He chose to talk to me.

I shoved jeans and a Green Day band tee on. I was determined to find Damien. I needed to ask him what the hell that had been all about.

The garden was as magnificent as ever. Now that I knew that he had chosen to garden, it made me appreciate it a little more. It meant that he did it for free. It meant that he actually enjoyed it.

It wasn't hard to spot his bright red hair in the middle of a section of white roses.

"Uh-oh," I gasped.

Damien turned around, not seeming amused. "What?"

"The roses aren't red!" I replied dramatically. "The queen wanted red roses!"

He smiled, obviously catching on.

"We must paint the roses red!" Damien shouted.

"WE'RE PAINTING THE ROSES RED!" I sang badly.

"WE'RE PAINTING THE ROSES RED!" Damien sang.

My mouth dropped open. "Wow," I raised my eyebrows. "You can sing. Like, sing."

"NO TALKING," He screamed. "MORE PAINTING! THE QUEEN WILL BE FURIOUS!"

We both laughed.

"Damien, can I ask you something?" I asked after three straight minutes of laughing.

He nodded.

"Why did you come to me this morning?"

"It's..." he leaned against the post connecting to the gazebo. "It's stupid...and a long story."

"Is it about Sarah?"

He looked at me like I had three heads.

"Logan told me," I explained. "I made him. I wanted to know why you all hated each other."

"Oh," he said. "Then I guess you already know."

"Know what?"

"He didn't tell you?" Damien furrowed his eyebrows. "That same ball is tomorrow. And she's going to be there."

Oh. Fuck. The world is going to have one less bitch tomorrow.

***

I have been writing this like crazy.

Thank you for reading, by the way. I know I'm not the best writer but whateves.

BUT DAMIEN.

Okay bye.