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Queen of Hens

Let's Fall In Love For The Night

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Leaning against the cool stone of the secluded balcony, Damian Wright silently watches in amusement as countless of drunken party goers scramble inside, racing against the clock that was nearing its final hour. Determined to not miss out on old traditions like midnight kisses, group toasts, and new year resolutions, the intoxicated guests were having a far better time than the lonely waiter standing outside. Though he sneered at them from the sidelines, a little part of Damian almost envied the alcohol-driven foolishness; it always seemed to lead to a good time, even if embarrassment was sure to follow in the morning. He missed that feeling, the one that made him feel happy and completely carefree. He longed for his freedom, missed being able to do whatever the fuck he wanted because he still had his whole life ahead of him; it was his time and no one else's, even if he had no idea of the consequences that were waiting for him at the end.

Shaking his head suddenly, Damian quickly turns away from the scene, not wanting to dampen his evening with late night thoughts that he wasn't quite ready to face. The New Year was on its way and he, like many others, was excited for the future, though tonight had made him question his optimism. Starting it off in a less than ideal manner, he wondered if this was a sign of what was to come: endless labor where he spent his time contemplating just how much he had to work before he could head home to prepare for his next shift. It was a constant headache, an endless cycle of tiresome routine. It was also the necessary first step in his new direction. He was determined to make this work, even if his job didn't want to cooperate completely. This was his way of getting back on track, despite the countless of obstacles that were ahead.

Counting the money from his sporadic tips through the evening, Damian scoffs at the measly amount he comes up with, tossing the crumpled bills onto a nearby table in frustration. "Jesus fucking Christ. For as much as they boast about being 'stinking rich', you'd think there'd be a little more proof of that." Clenching his chiseled jaw, he runs a tense hand through his messy brown locks, clearly annoyed. Flirty looks and drunken advances didn't exactly pay the bills. Taking off his stained apron, he slowly makes his way to the greener side of the balcony, removing himself from the stress that had surrounded him all night. Undoing a few buttons on his tight shirt, Damian prepares to unwind in the cool Olympia night, rolling up his sleeves to better feel the breeze dance around his bare skin. Balancing an unlit cigarette between his pearly white teeth, the disillusioned waiter gazes out into the sea of twinkling city lights, welcoming the winds as they surrounded him. It was a beautiful skyline, one he painted so often but still couldn't quite perfect. There were so many new colors, so many new details since the last time he searched its intricate canvas with his curious eyes. Stepping away from the comforting edge, Damian goes farther into the small balcony garden, hoping to disappear for a moment. Trailing a curious hand along some of the dewy plant life, he admires the more complex structures as he waits for the clock to strike midnight. Just like the skyline, the beauty of the plants seemed too hard to replicate; each leaf, every structure, all of it had a different story to tell.

Pulling out his lighter, Damian goes to burn the end of his cigarette, but stops when he sees something out of the corner of his eye. A black silhouette had joined him on the balcony, their identity hidden by the distance and late night environment. Raising an eyebrow curiously, he turns his attention to the unwelcome stranger, who hasn't quite spotted him among the patch of greenery. Watching the figure carefully between the ivy of the lush garden, Damian can't quite make out who it could possibly be. Tucking his unused cigarette behind his ear, he's unsure of whether he should slip away, or maybe sit back and wait until the stranger was gone; he wanted to be alone. 

As the shadow moves into the pale moonlight, Damian is gradually able to make out more of the individual, piquing his already growing interest. From what he could see, the new arrival was a young woman, probably in her late 20's, her frustration made clear by her demeanor and indecipherable words of anger. Not wanting to stick around long enough to deal with any of the fallout, Damian moves closer to the flashing lights of the inside, hoping to head towards the exit and sneak past her to somewhere more secluded. Preparing to step out and make a run for it, she turns his way without warning, forcing him to stop dead in his tracks. Cursing, Damian's reluctant eyes meet the deep brown of hers, and for a moment, he finds himself completely taken aback, unable to look away: they were rich and decadent like chocolate, subtle yet expressive, restrained but uncontrollable. A dangerous spark resided behind their delicate exterior. Her raven hair fell around her shoulders in a shining cascade of black, complimenting her pale skin and painted red lips. She was absolutely stunning, though not enough to keep him around. The evening had soured him on many of partygoers in attendance, and he wanted to get as far away from them as possible. 

"Sorry, I was just... leaving. Didn't wanna scare you or anything." Damian awkwardly starts, breaking the growing silence between the two. He could sense that she was still bothered by something, his presence only interrupting her state of mind for a moment. For some reason, that bothered him. "You alright? It's about to be midnight, party's inside."
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