She sat back down, crushing the second cigarette butt of the day. She took out a third, and was about to light it before realizing that perhaps that was one too many, and she'd eventually start to sound like a chimney.
"Listen, Damien..." Her words came out reluctantly. "It's not that I have anything against... the lyrical content of the song. But... well, first thing first, Mom and Aunt Freya would kill me if they ever find out that I let you go public with this. And second, I mean, we don't know what the public's general reaction will be to this kind of thing. You're singing about pleasing a woman, discarding her, or maybe being with her for the sake of pleasure, and moving on, like it's nothing. This isn't the kind of music women expect from men."
"......"
I fell silent for a moment, then—"But... would you like to hear something like this? From a man?"
The question caught her off guard. Her eyes flicked up to mine, her expression almost defensive as she blurted out a hasty: "W-What does this have to do with anything?!"
"Just answer the question, please. Would you like to hear me sing something like that? Does that hold an allure to you?" I stared back.
Calista opened her mouth to say something, but couldn't find the right words and shut it again, swallowing before opening it a second time, not quite resolute, but resigned. "Maybe I would..."
"Then I'm putting that song out."
"Damien..." Calista really wanted to reach for that cigarette she decided against, and barely restrained herself. At this point, I was led to believe I was the main catalyst for her smoking habit and future health problems. "You are being... unbelievably unreasonable."
"I'm being honest." I said calmly. "And I'd like your help to produce it. You're the only one who could help me right now, as I wouldn't trust anyone else with this."
She stared at me as if I had sprouted horns.
"I still think you should choose a different song, something less... controversial." Calista had to throw her pack of cigarettes as far away as possible, before crossing her arms and sinking into her chair. "I'm telling you this, because there has never been a man who has released music like this. Not one. It's uncharted territory. You have to understand the risks."
"So, what would you recommend, if I refuse to change my mind?"
A long sigh.
"I'd recommend we make a demo. Just you, singing, over a simple beat. We'll keep it short. We can test the waters, see how it's received. If it's a disaster, we'll scrap it, and no one has to know." She said, after much consideration, and I could tell she was already mentally drafting a plan B for when things went wrong, which probably consisted of a lot of public apologies and her having to do a bunch of damage control.
"And if it's not a disaster?"
"Then we'll think about it." Calista's eyes narrowed. "We'll take it from there."
"Alright." I nodded, satisfied for now. "When can we start?"
"As soon as I'm done with my current project. Give me a day or two." She waved her hand dismissively, as if to say it was no big deal.
I smiled.
"Thank you, Calista."
"Just don't make me regret this." She muttered.
"I won't."
I stood up, ready to leave. Before I could open the door, Calista's voice called out behind me.
"Damien."
I turned around.
She was looking at me, with those intense, hypnotic eyes that could easily send grown men into cardiac arrest. She seemed torn, for some reason, as though a part of her was actually regretting saying anything at all. "You really wrote this? All of it?"
"Yes." I said, without hesitation.
Calista pursed her lips, then nodded slowly.
"You must have had some girl inspire you to come up with that."
I frowned. That wasn't true.
"I don't have that sort of a relationship with any woman at the moment, to put it bluntly." I clarified, not in the mood for playing games.
"Right." She stared at me.
A stare that might mean that she didn't believe me, and something inside her maybe was disappointed, if not offended by what I was saying.
But in the end, she turned her head to the side and gestured toward the door. "Fine, don't tell me. I'm not going to pry." She said, as if to absolve herself of all responsibility. "Your love life isn't any of my business."
Indeed it wasn't.
Then why did Calista look a little angry about it?
I didn't ponder this as long as I wanted to, before deciding I should probably leave.
As I was about to walk out, Calista suddenly threw a balled-up piece of paper, hitting my arm. I blinked. "What?"
"......"
But she had already turned around, returning to her computer, pretending she didn't care, holding her chin with one hand, looking at her screen, all the while smoking another cigarette.
I bent down and picked up the ball of crumpled paper she'd thrown at me. I carefully unraveled it as I headed out the door, and looked back in to see Calista quickly turning her face back to her computer screen, not looking in my direction at all.
The door clicked shut as I read the familiar, neat handwriting.
"Never thought about love,
Haven't even once,
Have never lost a thought,
Dreaming of another,
Yet, nothing makes sense,
When I'm with you..."
What the—
"......."
Having familiarized myself with OG Damien's notes, I could quickly tell that this was something he wrote.
xXx
"H-Hey..."
I looked up, eyes half parted, a thin sheet of sweat trickling down the sides of my face before I used the back of my glove to wipe it away.
Kendra stood awkwardly in front of me. Her eyes seemed to be making a concentrated effort not to drift in my direction.
"Hey." I replied, putting down the dumbbells.
She shifted uncomfortably from one leg to the other. "How have you been?"
"Great." I told her, sitting up. "Though I was beginning to wonder why you weren't showing up."
"Yeah..." Kendra avoided my gaze, running her hand along the ponytail on her hair. "B-Been kind of busy, you know?" She threw in a good chuckle as well, although it sounded somewhat forced. "Uhh, so yeah. Anything new?"
I blinked, tilting my head, then frowning as a bead of perspiration took the highway to my collarbones. Kendra's eyes followed that innocent trail as though she was in a trance, before she managed to realize herself.
"D-Damien!?" She said, alarmed.
"What?"
"You were staring at me!" She looked flustered and confused, blushing and gesticulating wildly with her hands as if to banish my gaze. "No, wait. I wasn't staring at you! Why would I stare at you? Because you have nothing I haven't seen! And... and... no. Uh." She swallowed. "Okay, uh. Are you tired or is it just me?"
"Actually." I started, brushing off her odd behavior. "I'd like your help with something."
"Y-Yes! You can ask me!"
I smiled indulgently at her, which seemed to exacerbate the stammering further. "Could you spot me please? I want to try the bar, and I don't trust myself enough."
Kendra glanced at the weights on the bar, which was currently sitting at a comfortable 20 kilograms, an admittedly innocuous number she could lift with one hand. "Uhuh, sure."
xXx
Kendra
Despite just stepping into FitForm, Kendra's pulse hammered as if had sprinted for several kilometers, a fresh wave of sweat rising beneath her workout attire. She inwardly called out every single angel for pouring so much unholy temptation over one person.
Seriously, what the fuck is going on here.
Damien had a decadent, sensual beauty not commonly seen.
No, in fact, she couldn't recall a single instance where she saw anyone, man or woman, in real life, look the way he did.
All this stimulation coming from a single man not doing anything besides just existing and breathing heavily, occasionally emitting soft, little whimpers or grunts, was, as cliché as it was, doing things to her.
As Damien lay back on the bench, she approached from behind, avoiding making any direct contact, and kneeled over to stabilize the weight. She managed a look down at his face, but it wasn't nearly as easy and not nearly as enjoyable as it sounded.
His cheeks were flushed from exertion, droplets tracing paths down his temples, disappearing into the line of his jaw. It would be so easy to imagine herself leaning down, catching those drops with her tongue. She had lived so long in her own deviancy without a man's touch to lose her mind a little.
'What have I even become...?'
She gripped the bar harder, knuckles white.
"Ready?" Damien asked, snapping her back to reality.
"Oh? Y-Yeah." She responded, immediately.
He grunted as he strained. The bar lifted, and from her vantage point—maybe she was leaning a little too forward—they made a brief eye contact, only the slightest second of it, and even less comprehension behind those silver pools before it was cut.
She gulped, realizing too late that she should've stood at a better angle to be his spotter. Damien brought the weight bar close, and she was worried about it falling down and smashing his face in.
Thankfully, nothing of the sort happened. It would've been womankind's tragedy, and every woman in the immediate vicinity had stopped whatever they were doing to watch. She had no doubt that, at the slightest hint of something going wrong, they'd swarm in.
Damien grunted, lifting the weight again, and she helped him bring it back to it's rest. Since this was his attempt at a PR or something, he only ended up doing a couple. Or maybe he didn't have any more stamina left. "I... this is fine." He let his arms slack down, inhaling sharply and taking in great, large gulps of air. "... Thanks. I couldn't have done this without you."
'I can think of many ways to take that statement...'
Her eyes landed, of course, on the bulge in his sweatpants, and then it was gone before it could even process itself fully into her brain. He looked at her. Her eyes flicked up with remarkable speed and alacrity that she hoped was not at all suspicious.
"Uhuh." Kendra nodded like her life depended on it, mouth dry and heart pounding hard in her chest. "What, uh... what do you need help with next?"
"Haha, nothing... I'm done for the day."
"Oh."
She was disappointed and, despite that, very, very happy for that fact.
She had seen plenty, and anything else at this point would've broken her poor, fragile, naughty little heart.
Damien peeled himself off of the bench, stood up, gathered his towel, and—"Oh, shit." Oh, he cursed... how dirty. A very out-of-place word coming from a proper young master. She almost wanted to bite it out of his mouth.
"What's wrong?" She asked, as cheerfully as she could. Such an artificial smile, definitely not wavering!
"I stained the bench with my sweat, sorry... I'll clean it." Damien, in a fit of embarrassment, was about to use his towel before Kendra stopped him, pushing him gently but firmly away with her own, earning a curious look from him.
"Nonsense, Damien." She laughed. "It's not the first time someone sweats while working out. I-I-I'll take care of it for you, y-you just go on ahead." She flashed him her most disarming smile, making even her stuttering sound normal and coherent, somehow.
"Uh, alright... thank you, I guess?"
They exchanged some more pleasantries, a joke here and there, and a promise to work out together next time. He laughed awkwardly, gathering the last of his items before waving her goodbye and walking away.
They'd barely had any time to talk or do anything else, but at least—
Kendra gulped, staring at the sweat stains Damien had left.
—she had some leftovers.
'To do it or not to do it, now that is the dilemma indeed.'
She covered her face in shame.
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