let's roll just like we used to !

[damien gabriel oakley]

He didn’t want to be another rich kid with too much money, a rich kid who didn’t know what to spend his money on. He didn’t want people to shake their heads and say ‘oh, what a waste’ when he was dropped onto a slab. These were all things that Damien did not want. His actions should never be regarded to be a direct consequence of ‘no direction, and too much money’, but instead a direct consequence of the yearning to exist, to explore the world from all angles. These substances allowed him that insight and he yearned to see the pavement as a heat wave, as opposed to a perfectly planned and perfectly executed piece of city structure. Everything was connected to his politician father, and if it took something extra to sway it a bit, to destroy the hold, then it was a sacrifice he would gladly make. Plus, he felt so free and liberated this way.

Damien probably didn’t fit in on the Lower East Side. He didn’t walk around in a suit or even a shirt like his fellow peers, he was a lot more casual than that, but even his casual came with a name tag. He’d been brought up amongst designer; it was something he didn’t really think too hard about when he shopped. His red jeans were skinny, closing in on his slender form and losing themselves within his black boots. Luckily for Damien, nobody on the lower east side bothered to inspect labels, at least not openly, so he never particularly felt left out, but rather this felt like a scene that he belonged in, if only his upbringing and lifestyle weren’t so extravagant. At least he hadn’t gotten a limo over.

He was craving to meet the girl who changed his life. She’d introduced him all to it, to the lifestyle that gave him such freedom, such life. She wasn’t really a dealer because he didn’t routinely go to her for drugs, he didn’t really pay her, but rather he just got high with her every now and again. She was a secret, and it was best like that. She was part of his life that nobody knew about, and nobody could know about. Doing drugs with Carter was a lot more fun than doing drugs with his classmates. They were people who had too much money than they knew to do with, and their idea of socialising was always accompanied by Damien’s idea of pretention. He could be honest around Carter, if only because he couldn’t be entirely honest around his own friends. He got high and he become open. If she wanted, she could probably write a book on him and his family. She could probably expose his darkest secrets, he hoped she didn’t.

The night was only just closing in on the eighteen year old as he stood against the wall of a scrubby excuse of a house, a pipe smouldering between his fingertips. His new iPhone, new because his last was stolen, clung to the palm of his free hand as his teeth gnawed against his lower lip, awaiting his friend. If he could call her a friend. Carter was kind of an ambiguous term to Damien. He was half tempted to bring her home to meet his parents, to introduce her as his girlfriend. They would be mortified and the thought brought a smirk to his lips, teasing his defined cheekbones as he raised the pipe to his lips.

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[carter denise mallows]

Carter walked down the streets of the lower east side feeling completely at home. She'd been here for more than a few years now and though it was still no Bristol, it was still home. She felt comfortable. No one was judging like they would had she been on the Upper East Side. No one was even the least bit concerned about what brand name she was wearing how how much money she was going to spend today. No people were just going on about their own damn lives.

She searched through her bag and checked her phone. She grabbed a cigarette and paused on the sidewalk as she lit it. She took a long drag and let the smoke fill her lungs before exhaling. It was starting to get dark. She had better get to where she was going and soon. Not that she afraid of being out after dark. Most definitely not. However Damien....well it probably wasn't best to leave him out by himself, especially since they were supposed to be meeting in a very sketchy neighborhood. During the day no one would mess with him, but let's just say a skinny boy in designer labels was an easy target for the after dark crews.

A couple minutes later she turned the corner and saw him leaning against a crumbling building. "Well well well I've found myself a little rich fish swimming around after dark," she said with a teasing smile playing on her lips. She loved picking with him over his status. It was extremely funny. She took another drag of the cigarette and released the smoke a moment later. "Right, well let's get going, we've got to meet my guy like a block away before we head back to my place," she said. She grabbed his hand and started walking.

She looked over at the boy next to her. He was a few years younger than her, eighteen to her twenty-one. Impressionable. She definitely wasn't the best influence, but he didn't seem to mind. It didn't take long to get where they needed to be. She cut through a dark alley to see two guys waiting for her there.

"Who's the kid?" one of them asked eyeing Damien suspiciously. "He's cool," she said rolling her eyes. It was the first time that she'd brought Damien with her while she was making a buy. Rocky eyed her. "He's...cool," now do you have it or what?" she asked. "Yeah okay," he said. He handed her a few different things and she gave him the money for it.

"Let's go," she said to Damien, throwing the stuff in her bag and making her way to her apartment, which was a few blocks away in a better neighborhood.

[damien gabriel oakley]

Damien raised an eye at the greeting he received from Carter. It was this kind of banter that had gotten them acquainted with each other in the first place, although now it was a lot more playful. Damien could never have something against a person because of where they came from, but people could certainly have something against him for his upbringing. Apparently being left without needing made you spoilt, especially when your father was the guy who was on tv every day saying how the city’s crime had decreased so much since he was in office. It was all a façade, a façade that Damien hated. He smirked dryly at the older woman, ”Well, well, if it isn’t Little Miss Homeless; I never expected to run into you. How did you enjoy the soup kitchen today?” he enquired, a seriousness overriding his tone as he mocked her financial status, although she was barely poor. He supposed he’d never have to work for a living if he didn’t want to, but Carter probably had to. Damien had never really asked her about her finances when not in jest; it was probably rude to do so.

He usually came in to the equation after she’d made the deal, so the thought of meeting her ‘guy’ made him a little uneasy. It wasn’t what he was used to, it wasn’t a world he belonged in. This was rough and dangerous. Things weren’t done here as they were done on the Upper East Side. He was feeling a bit apprehensive, and so his teeth tugged on his lip. He kept the cigarette in his hand, more so to look tough as opposed to any particular need to inhale the smoke, plus it gave him something to do with his hands. He knew that if he dropped the cigarette to the flood he would only fidget. He didn’t want to meet any guy. ”I don’t know if that’s too good an idea,” Damien mumbled unsurely. He tried to keep his grip on Carter’s hand relaxed. He would never live it down if he showed fear for meeting the scum of the earth… okay, so maybe he could hold a person’s financial status against them, or rather their place in life, and maybe he was just as fake as the rest of his family. But this wasn’t his place and he was starting to feel unsure of himself. He kind of wished he’d run into one of his brothers but they would never hang down this area of the city.

As she turned down the alleyway, his brown eyes widened as he pulled a little on her hand, looking back at the brightly lit street that held every chance of survival. The alley was dark, and what was worse was the shadows of the people down the end. They could easily beat him up with just a mere glare. He raised the cigarette to his lips, but promptly dropped it to the ground and stubbed it out upon noticing that there was so ever slight a tremble to his hand. It felt like his idea of hell when she lead him to the two men, who of course were waiting for her. Maybe it was a trick. If they knew who his dad was, and what his dad could have done to them if he found out they were dealing, then surely they’d want to beat him up. Then maybe he would have to go to the police like his brother always advised whenever he got in fights, or got mugged. He was a good target for people because he had a distinctive appearance, which made people recognise him from when he’d been to press occasions with his father; it was obvious he was from money, and a lot of people hated his dad. Maybe he was just scared but he liked to think it was justified. Damien narrowed his eyes at being called a kid. He wasn’t a kid, he was eighteen! That made him more than old enough to be considered an adult, he was quite sure, although these were all things he kept to himself. He merely glared back at the dealer, because he did have a bit of an attitude.

Finally they were done, and he could let go of his breath. As soon as they got out of the alleyway, Damien turned on Carter, his fear mimicking anger. ”Are you stupid?!” he exclaimed loudly, stopping in the middle of the well lit street. ”Why would you take me there? They could be anyone! What if they’re journalists? This could ruin my father’s career, if anyone saw… you have no right to do that, he’s my dad! My parents would be devastated if they found out, god you’re so stupid Carter!” he shook his head and inhaled deeply. He’d never entirely been concerned for his father’s campaign, although the concern regarding this issue wasn’t entirely faked, but merely exaggerated. He was more worried for his own safety. It was quite a trauma, attending a deal. He didn’t quite know what to do with himself. ”Just you should know, that you’re an absolute dick, that’s all… come on,” he said quietly. He didn’t want to ruin their night and not get high merely because he got scared, though he certainly didn’t wish to see those guys again. They looked so rough, and tough and scary. He hoped she wouldn’t take him to see them again. Damien started to walk again, crossing his arms protectively over his chest.

OOC: Gifs are fun, I had to copy you. :’)

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