Chapter Text
Utter bullshit.
Those two words looped in Damon’s head like a mantra as he straightened his veridian tie with a scowl. After the thousandth time it repeated in his mind, Damon couldn’t even be sure what exactly was the utter bullshit in question. His colleagues? This entire political system? The fact that he had to “play nice” with idiots in order to make a goddamn difference? The fact that he had to attend this event, an event that would be nothing more than rich pretentious imbeciles pretending to care about a cause when in reality all they care about is blowing smoke up their own asses? Or maybe it was the fact that his tie refused to cooperate and he had to be out the door to meet Eva in ten minutes?
What the hell, why not all the above. Damon yanked on his tie one more time before darting his eyes into the mirror. The picture he was presented with wasn’t very pretty. Yes, his tie looked in place now; however, his expression and hair made him look like a complete madman. Not exactly the vibe he wants to put out if he’s going to get re-elected.
Despite having served for six long, long years, Damon had never been more impressed by the lack of change that’s gone on in his term. Of course, to no fault of his own. No matter how much policy he tries to pass, he has 99 dimwitted colleagues trying to waste as much time as humanly possible to agree with him – as well, naturally, several hundred of his adjacent colleagues doing the same. And don’t get him started on the ridiculousness he needs to go through just to pass a single bill. As he’s come to find out over the years, simple logic and debate doesn’t work on these freaks. No. They always want something. Damon has always hated quid pro quo (well, unless it was him being asked to do something with his valuable time), but by god if everyone around him didn’t take it to the next level. There were enough committees to make his head hurt, enough bargains and deals being struck left and right to make him dizzy and yet…nothing ever got done. And the cherry on top?
He had to run for office again , just at the pivotal time when his proposed policy was finally making its rounds, closer and closer to becoming a law. If he loses the re-election all of this… utter bullshit …will have been for nothing.
And he was not even projected to lose because of his colleague’s incompetence which has kept him from fulfilling his promises. No, he was projected to lose because people think he’s mean. Mean?! Him?! Damon would like to say it's ridiculous, but he’s overheard enough gossip from his fellow senators calling him “conniving,” a “snake,” “arrogant,” or even “frigid bitch” when they’re feeling particularly bold. So, yeah, he knows exactly where the “mean” rhetoric has come from.
It's laughable, honestly, the way that refusing to sell out his morals, refusing to participate in the tit for tat system has made him as hated as he was in school (maybe even more). Politicians are supposed to make change. They’re supposed to appeal to logos, ethos, and pathos to get policy enacted. That’s why debates and filibusters exist!
But no. No, Damon had come to find that policy creation is only about kissing ass and trading favors. He hates it, really, he does. But he’s done too much, and has come too far to stop now. He’s close to making real change, and making a real difference in society like he was destined to do. So fucking fine if to get re-elected he has to attend this faux charity event. He’ll have to deal with more phonies for the evening, but nothing new. No one cares if he’s been donating or helping behind the scenes. They just want to see his picture in the news next day with the headline: “Senator Damon Maitsu Attends Charity Function.” Apparently that’s enough to get the people to want to vote for him again. Even though Damon knows that the public probably won’t even be able to tell anyone about what the charity is, who he is, and what he’s done, he now has the knowledge to know that it doesn’t matter. All that matters in an election is some glossy photo with a pretty headline.
If that’s what he has to do to get this bill passed, then so be it.
Damon isn’t a defeatist. He knows he’s smart, he knows he’s better, and he knows that he will be the one to improve this broken society. He would much rather adhere to the rules of his own game rather than the rules of an idiotic political game of chess. But his gambits have failed thus far. The new strategy is to play their game for a little bit…and when they least expect it, take the board out from under them and fix this world.
A blaring ringggg snapped Damon out of his spiral. His eyes focused once again. Now, in the mirror, he looked slightly more put together at least. He schooled his expression and smooths out his hair. He took a deep inhale just as another resounding shriek came out of his doorbell again. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Eva is an exceedingly impatient woman. He would keep her waiting out of sheer principle and spite, but he knew showing up late would look just as bad as not showing up at all.
So instead, he sighed, he gave his reflection one last glance. Honey hair looks decent, half slicked back and half slightly wavy and framing his face. It would give him an almost delicate, soft look if it were not for his facial features. Sharp, calculating green eyes are accentuated by the lightest bit of makeup – a small amount of contour and foundation to cover up any imperfections, and a faint dark brown running up his waterline. His Armani black suit was altered to perfection thanks to Damon ensuring they adhered to his mother’s initial vision with the clothes she embroidered for him in high school. And, they had even tailored a green tie specifically for him, it ended up fitting in nicely (at least, after many frustrated attempts at making it do so). As much as he hates to admit it, following Diana’s proposed routine has done wonders for his appearance. He looks brilliant, clean and wholly intimidating. The paparazzi are going to have a field day.
Damon held his head up high and stepped out of his bathroom. He walks past his sleek, black living room, and to the door. He decided to put on his shoes before he opens the door, considering Eva will probably practically drag him out as soon as she can get her hands on him. He slips into polished black dress shoes, steels himself, and opens the door.
Expectedly, awaiting him with her usual cold blue stare, is Eva Tsunaka. “Well,” She said, “What took you so long?”
Damon huffed, “Just making myself look presentable. Unlike you, I actually have to look good tonight.”
Eva rolled her eyes. And, yes, Damon knows why. Despite his snark, she looks stunning. Her long half-dyed hair is up in an elegant bun. She’s wearing a fitted dark navy dress that pops against her pale complexion. Plus, she’s clearly got heels on. She’s towering above Damon rather than her normal slightly-shorter-than-him height. Diana clearly did her makeup as well. While it's true, Eva really has no reason to go tonight, no paparazzi will be interested in her after all, she’s still on Damon’s level appearance-wise…maybe even better, but he won’t admit it.
Damon watched Eva’s face contort, a telltale sign she’s resisting a smirk. “If you have to look good then maybe you need a few extra minutes? Diana’s already there, but maybe I’m sure if I told her it's an emergency she’ll rush over. You seem in need of a do-over, stat.”
He can’t even stop himself from rolling his eyes this time; however, he smiled just slightly. “I followed her instructions to a T. I’m more than ready. And by the way you were ringing my doorbell like a psychopath, you are too. So, let’s go.”
“Fine by me,” Eva shrugged, she stepped aside from the doorframe, allowing Damon to step into the hallway and leave the penthouse. He shuts the door, and hears the beep to signal its automatic lock. Eva strides ahead of him to the elevator, heels clicking on the floor, confirming Damon’s suspicion about her shoe choice. Like girlfriend, like girlfriend, he thinks as he sees the lacy stilettos peek out from her dress as she walks. He sure knows who picked them out.
Eva pressed the button to hail the elevator. It opens almost immediately, it had probably been stagnant on his floor considering Eva had just gotten there recently. He follows Eva into the elevator and watches her fiddle with her hair for a moment.
He’s known Eva for many years, throughout the good and the bad. Their dynamic has always been a little strange – conversations littered with fake-tension as neither really cared to express themselves brazenly (like Diana, for example). They had fights before, both small and explosive. Though their friendship had gone through a lot, they’d come out stronger and been each other’s confidants during hard times.
That’s why Damon saw right through her in that moment. She was undoubtedly nervous.
“Hey, remember,” He remarked plainly without looking at her, “You’re just my plus one tonight. No one's gonna care how you look or how you act. You could probably growl at the other attendees and no one would bat an eye.”
“Reminding me how much of a nobody I am, Damon? Gee, thanks.”
Damon sighed, deciding to meet her gaze. “You know what I mean. There’s no reason to freak out. Tonight’s about a good cause…” Then he paused, because no, that wasn’t quite right, “Actually, tonight is about a bunch of pricks showing off.” He heard a small snort from Eva, taking it as a sign to keep going, “But you’re not one pricks. Hell, you could find Diana when we get that and fuck off for the rest of the night if you feel like it.”
“Hmm.” Eva hummed. She had a faraway look in her eyes for a moment. Then she glanced back at him, pushing her glasses up on her face, “thanks.”
Damon didn’t deign that with a response, and the elevator opened.
Once again, Eva stepped out, taking the lead. An onlooker would’ve probably thought she was the one who lived there, not Damon. Despite her many insecurities, Eva gave off an attitude that made her seem chillingly confident and self-assured. It's what drew Damon to her originally. He walked behind her, passing through the revolving doors and out to the exterior of the apartment complex.
The day was quickly turning into night, sun setting, leaving a nice hue over the fountain outside. Eva shifted, pulling her phone out of her wristlet and swiping it open, checking something. Damon took the opportunity to survey the view again.
He’d lived at the luxury complex for a while now, and he had yet to see it look anything less than pristine (a reason why he continued to stay). The hedges were neat, the flowers in bloom no matter what season it was, and water always sparkled from the fountain. It was befitting of him. Nothing out of place, and the aura gave off a sense of superiority from all the other buildings on the block.
Beside him, Eva slid her phone back into her pocket. “Uber’s pulling up.”
Damon looked out at the road. A sleek black car approached, and Eva slowly began to walk towards it. Damon followed.
“I’m surprised you could afford this type,” Damon said, as he observed the polish. It was clearly some kind of refined brand, similar to Damon’s own car meaning she must have splurged for the luxury Uber. Usually, if Eva were paying for something, she’d pick a more sensible version whereas Damon would opt for something more opulent.
“I can’t. But you can,” Eva remarked nonchalantly, as she approached the car. She turns back to him with a grin, “I memorized your card digits the last time you ordered takeout for us.”
Of course she did, Damon thought, not even feeling the urge to be mad. It's not it would’ve been that expensive in the grand scheme of things after all. (And, though he’d never admit it, he definitely owed her).
“Don’t make that a habit,” He feigned annoyance. Eva pulls open the car door, sliding in all the way. Damon followed her into the backseat, shutting the car door and looking at the driver. Nice looking guy in his fifties probably. He just hoped he wasn’t chatty.
“Eva Tuh–, uh, Tsunaka?” He asked, peering back in the rearview mirror at Eva.
“That’s me. Appreciate the ride.”
“No problem ma’am. We’re headed for the Eden’s convention center, right?”
Damon held back the urge to reply that was obviously the case, considering he was looking at the driver’s screen showing the center as the end location.
“That’s right.” Eva said. Luckily, when it came to strangers, Eva tended to be tight-lipped. It was nice for Damon, especially since it seemed this driver got the hint and shut up for the time being as he began to drive.
Damon looked out the window. No sights he hadn’t seen before, as the driver pulled out onto the main road, but still, it was a nice area.
He felt his phone buzz in his pants pocket, and he shot a look at Eva. She was the likely culprit.
Damon didn’t get many messages on his personal phone.
She gave him a look , to which Damon returned with a bored expression. He pulled out his phone and checked her message.
Eva Tsunaka: What’s the deal when we get there? Do you have to give a master political speech?
Damon rubbed his temples. He knew Eva had never been to an event like this before, but just thinking about what he’d have to do gave him a migraine.
Damon Maitsu: I wish.
Damon Maitsu: It’s much worse.
Damon Maitsu: We mingle.
Damon watched from the corner of his eye Eva’s cheeks puff out, she was stifling a chuckle. Although he knew Eva would hate it as much as he does, she probably wasn’t quite as “dramatic” (as others would put it) as him.
Eva Tsunaka: Escaping to Diana for the whole night sounds promising.
Damon Maitsu: You’re going to leave me alone with the vultures? Why did I even invite you?
Eva Tsunaka: Hey, you said I could.
Damon sighed. How he regretted the words he said in attempts to comfort her. He closed his phone, feeling a bit of nausea from car sickness. He just had to hope she’d have enough decency not to ditch him for her girlfriend. Though Damon knew better than to be so naive. He’s sure the main reason she agreed to come to the event is knowing Diana would be there.
They were a horribly disgusting couple.
Eva exited her messages app, presumably after realizing Damon was not going to reply. She was now wearing a soft smile. Damon could guess why, as in his peripheral vision he saw her home screen wallpaper (not to be confused with her lock screen wallpaper, which was a subtle artwork of the newest book she was into). A picture he’d seen many times in Eva’s (usually drunken) rants about how much she loved her girlfriend. Diana Venicia, looking stunning as ever, with a huge grin on her face holding some ugly plushie that Eva won for her.
It was impossible to deny that Diana was a good influence on Eva. Damon had to admit when he first met Diana, the stylist that Eva introduced as her girlfriend, he was beyond skeptical. First, because the two couldn’t have been more different. And second, because Diana just seemed so beneath Eva. Eva was a brilliant academic, probably the smartest mathematician the world had ever seen despite being a bit of a recluse. In contrast, Diana Venicia was just some makeup artist. Damon couldn’t understand it. And he told Eva as much (who of course, didn’t even entertain his comment).
Damon would never lie and claim that he thought Diana made some huge contribution to society, but he did come to realize the contribution she made in Eva’s life.
It was evident the day that Eva came storming into Damon’s apartment, raging because they had broken up. Damon assumed Diana had broken up with Eva for some reason, or maybe she cheated or done something equally unforgivable. Come to find out, it was Eva who had broken things off. Damon hadn’t realized at the time, but Eva’s insecurity was at an all time high. She got it in her head that Diana didn’t actually love her, and to test her theory she decided to break up with the poor girl and use her reaction as proof.
Damon had always been a little dumb when it came to Eva. He would blindly follow her into stupid shit without realizing that he was doing so. But something so idiotic and unhealthy was even clear to Damon. He promptly told her off and told her to get her head out of her ass and apologize to Diana (though, in probably less socially-adept terms).
She listened, and after what must have been the world’s ultimate apology, they began to date again (albeit, a little unsteadily). Damon had learned that Diana agreed to take Eva back if she went to therapy, and communicated better about her insecurities. Usually Damon wouldn’t advocate for therapy, but he supposed sometimes weaker people needed it. It had been only a couple years since then, but Eva seemed much more secure. And when she did have moments of anxiety or unassuredness, they tended to be a lot smaller and resolved much quicker. Damon surely couldn’t credit that to himself.
So, although Diana wasn’t his favorite person in the world, he held her with some regard. Emotionally and socially, she was more informed than Damon, though that wasn’t really something he valued much. But at least now, he didn’t mind being around her. He even felt a bit of assurance himself at the fact that she would be there tonight. It was a bit of a relief that he could know someone there didn’t have an ulterior motive. Though she was only invited to the event in the capacity as a personal stylist, on call in case of a client wardrobe malfunction, she was still allowed to walk around and attend the event like a regular guest. He would grace her with a quick chat should she come his way.
Damon took a deep breath, the ill feeling had subsided, though he didn’t think it necessary to take another chance with his phone. He did, however, glance at the driver’s phone, and noticed they were mere minutes away from their destination.
That was corroborated when Damon looked out the window. He saw the convention center coming up upon them. It was the largest in the city, and the entire ballroom had been reserved for the charity tonight.
He saw small specks of figures getting out of cars and walking through the convention doors. No doubt it would be a well-attended event. It was a big night, not only politicians would be there but also other famous figures (actors, influencers, even athletes). Anyone who was in the public eye, really, was invited. And it would definitely leave a stain on their image not to attend.
It was a charity fundraising event for domestic abuse, after all. Not showing up would make any public figure out to be heartless (maybe a reason why when Damon rejected similar charity invites in the past, his ratings plummeted. But hey, it wasn’t his fault that the public didn’t check to see that he actually supported those charities financially). He was dreading spending a whole evening with these inferior phonies, but it was too late to back out now.
The car approached the entrance, a valet standing at the front, walking towards the driver. Damon opened his door, while Eva did the same. He overheard the driver explaining he was an Uber, and a valet wouldn’t be necessary, and then he promptly tuned him out. He straightened his posture, and let his face rest in its usual stone cold expression. In order to keep Eva out of the spotlight (and to avoid any baseless dating rumors) he started walking in front of her. They quickly began to approach the doors, and subsequently, the first wave of news reporters. Cameras clicked rapidly as Damon approached. He waved to some, flashing a serious look to others. Hopefully that’ll feed those monsters for a bit . Then he quickly walked through the double doors, making sure Eva was unscathed behind him.
She certainly seemed a bit distressed, but the worst was over for her. He let his stride slow, and fell in step with her. He shot her a reassuring (well, at least he thought it was) glance as they followed the signs and masses towards the ballroom.
He let his gaze on Eva waver, in favor of looking at those around him. No one impressive or noteworthy at first glance. Not that he expected much. He continued to follow, inspecting the appearances and clothing of the wealthy people surrounding. All extravagant and needlessly excessive. This was a charity event, not the goddamn Met Gala. Damon really had to resist making a sarcastic remark to Eva. He was sure there were reporters everywhere and the last thing he needed was more bad press.
He inhaled silently, readying himself for even more bullshit as he entered the ballroom. For a split second, the grandeur of the room left him thoughtless. Chandeliers lit the room, people were laughing and chatting away in every corner, and fabulous sculptures and floral arrangements adorned each of the circular tables. Servers walked around with refreshments – Damon found his eyes drawn to the champagne first (he’d probably need it to get through the night). The room was large. For a moment, he thought it might not be too bad. He’d grab a drink or two, hang out alone at a standing table away from most of the people, let his picture get taken here and there, and ride out the evening. Maybe Eva would even keep him company at the start.
Damon turned to his left to tell her his plan, and…yep. Eva had already disappeared. The flashing cameras probably did a number on her. She wasn’t used to it like he was. Oh well, he shrugged it off and made his way across the room, he was sure he’d see her with Diana later on.
He cornered the server standing by the least amount of people, nodded his head at them as he grabbed a flute of champagne and made a (graceful, dignified) beeline for the furthest empty hightop. He was pleasantly surprised when he reached the black tableclothed table to see that no one seemed to pay him any mind. He was far enough away from the bigger groups, and those who were at surrounding tables were all engaged in their own conversations about how great they were as well as any other facetious grandeur they could chime in about.
Damon took a sip of his drink, then placed the glass in front of him. He turned slightly to the corner and opened his suit jacket slightly to obscure him sneakily taking out his phone.
Damon Maitsu: Traitor.
Eva Tsunaka: Love you too Damon
He rolled his eyes and closed his phone. He straightened out his jacket and considered whether to completely dissociate from the event or to grab a few more flutes of champagne and get white girl wasted.
Though the latter seemed a bit tempting, he didn’t forget why he was here. Getting drunk at the charity function wasn’t a good look, even if it wouldn’t really impede his ability to act like a regular member of society. He didn’t want to give any opportunity for some article to make him look bad.
He was about to contemplate some new policies to propose, when he inadvertently fixed his ears on a conversation near him. One that, surprisingly, wasn’t about one of the members of the table, nor badmouthing someone else. Quite the opposite actually.
“Yes, he’ll actually be here tonight.” A feminine voice chimed, “He’s a brilliant man. Handsome too! Surely he can defend you, or if not – I’ve heard he’s recently single so maybe you two will hit it off another way.”
“My goodness Caroline, have some shame, would you! I’m not interested in starting a love affair. I just want the accusations against me and my company to go away. The in-house legal counsel is completely incompetent. What’s this guy look like, if you sing his praises I’ll definitely ask him.”
The first voice – Caroline – piped back up, “He looks delicious that’s what he looks like. Here, look him up. Wolfgang Akire is his name. He’s well-known. You’ll get plenty of pictures from a single Google search.”
“She knows from experience,” snorted a different voice, leading the people at the table to laugh uproariously.
That’s when Damon decided to tune out again. The shrill giggles were too much for anyone who valued their hearing to bear.
He picks up the champagne again, taking a reasonable sip, though notably a larger one than his first. Some hotshot lawyer, huh? At least he’s doing something worthwhile, and well enough to generate acclaim. Though, from what he can gather, if he defends people like that one at the table, he’s probably not that respectable.
Damon looks out at the swarms of people in the room. It’s noticeably more crowded than before, yet still just as dull. Well…he’s nothing better to do. He pulls out his phone and opens Google, inputting “Wolfgang Akire.”
The lady was right about something, there were plenty of pictures. Tons of results about Wolfgang Akire, maybe as many results as his name on Google (not that he’d looked at that or anything). He even had one of those results that notable figures get – with the big bolded name and bottom subtitle above his pictures at the top of the search results. Wolfgang Akire . Defense attorney. Damon scrolled down slightly, clicking the Wikipedia link to the full profile on him (Wikipedia is easy and generally accurate, alright?! Sue him!).
Wolfgang was only four years older than him. He worked for some big private criminal defense firm, apparently one of the top lawyers there. It all seemed pretty standard until Damon scrolled enough to see a statistic that would’ve made him spit out his drink if he hadn’t already swallowed – 500 wins, 0 losses.
Holy shit. So this guy was the real deal. Damon scrolled back up quickly to get another look at him.
Slicked back hair with a strand going down in the middle. Soft purple eyes. Gentle, glowing skin (Damon was sure Diana could tell him Wolfgang’s exact skincare routine). A smile, pleasant smile. A nicely fitted and tailored suit. Overall, the picture of “Mr. Perfect,” he sure seemed polite and definitely the kind of guy people go crazy over. It almost pissed Damon off.
He scrolled back down. Down to personal life, skimming through early life to see that Wolfgang had graduated from a prestigious law school to become the youngest lawyer in the country. He continued scrolling. Past career, past philanthropy, all the way to personal life. Certainly, he wasn’t all that perfect. And all gets revealed in the personal life – what goes on behind closed doors is always telling.
The subheading was relationships. With only one listed, a “Grace Madison.”
That seemed to be it for the personal life section. Not a lot of dirt. Unless he totally abused this Grace girl or something.
Damon did have the decency to feel slightly bad for thinking that. He decided to read through the section.
Akire was in a relationship for an unknown amount of time with pro-golfer Grace Madison until Madison revealed in an interview that they had parted ways due to “a lack of commitment.” Though the golfer did not specify on whose side. Akire made no comment on his breakup with Madison, but did say he “wishes her well in her future endeavors.”
Wow. A whole lot of nothing. Damon huffed, and scrolled back to the top of the page. He looked one last look at the infuriatingly kind look in the lawyer’s eyes before hitting the off button on his phone and placing it back in his pocket.
Good timing, it seems, as Damon heard a microphone screech to life. He looked up to the makeshift stage at the front of the room. He saw a redheaded girl at the front, looking a bit too casual for an event like this in a simple skirt and a button up shirt. Next to her, a guy with pink dyed hair and a three piece suit with a pink tie.
The girl spoke first, with far too much energy for Damon’s liking, “Hello Eden’s Garden City! I hope you’re ready for a great night for an even greater cause! Make some noiseeee!”
To the other guests’ credit, they also seemed a bit put off by the girl’s exuberant attitude, clapping lightly and hesitantly. Damon didn’t even bother, just hoped the girl would finish her speech soon so he could have a bit of peace again.
“Awesome! We’re your hosts for the night, I’m your favorite streamer Cassidy Amber!” A couple cheers and hollers from the crowd.
“And I’m Kai Monteago,” said the pink-haired boy next to him (at a much more reasonable volume). “We’re honored to represent the Domestic Change project tonight. We hope you have a great night tonight, and we’ll be around as well as other team members to collect donations and talk more about the project.”
“And don’t worry!” Now Cassidy was back to screeching, “We’ll be back at the end of the night to announce the grand total! Thanks for coming out and enjoy your evening!”
Thankfully short, Damon sighed. Though the promise of the two coming back at the end was enough to make Damon take another sip of champagne. As the two “hosts” retreated off the stage, the crowd began to buzz again, this time with more people beginning to move around the room from table to table. At least his reputation for being mean would repel people from coming over to him.
He scanned the room looking for Eva and Diana, but was greeted with nothing but a sea of unfamiliar faces. He turned around subtly to check the tables beside and behind him.
That’s when he was hit with a familiar face, and boy, did it hit like a truck .
Wolfgang Akire, looking like he stepped directly out of his Wikipedia photo, in full perfection at the table behind him. Damon whipped his head around so he wouldn’t be caught staring.
He was an objectively attractive guy, that was certain. Damon let his ears hone in on that conversation behind him.
“Good evening ladies,” a light masculine voice rang out. Wolfgang , Damon realized. “My presence was requested by Miss Gromsley, how may I be of service?”
A chorus of giggles rang out from the table, undoubtedly charmed by the politeness of Wolfgang Akire.
“Ah, yes Mr. Akire. We were talking about you earlier.”
“Oh?” Wolfgang asked sheepishly, “All good things, I hope.”
“More than good, don’t worry, dear,” one of the feminine voices tittered shamelessly. Damon tried not to gag. He took another sip of champagne. Hey, maybe he could turn it into a drinking game! Every time he hears something embarrassingly brazen, he could take a sip.
Damon quickly dismissed the idea. He already decided he wasn’t getting wasted tonight, after all.
“Well, that’s good to hear.” Wolfgang sounded a little embarrassed, but it was likely just the chivalry in his tone. Bastard, Damon bit the inside of his lip. He was sure he was scowling right now, but he was also sure that no one was taking his picture right now, so it was probably fine.
“Anyway, anyway,” Caroline interjected, “I called you over for my friend here.”
“Pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Damon was sure Wolfgang said that with some kind of award-winning smile.
“Yes, yes, you as well,” responded the woman. Damon recognized the voice as the woman in legal trouble. “My company and I are having some problems…we’re facing some criminal accusations – which are baseless by the way – and I was wondering if you would be able to help.”
Damon wasn’t sure he’d ever heard someone ask for legal help and flirt at the same time. He was definitely making a face now, luckily, he was sure that there weren’t even onlooker eyes on him. Sometimes it pays to have a bad reputation.
“Why don’t I give you my card,” Wolfgang said with a slight laugh, “Now’s not the time to talk about business, right? Enjoy the night, ladies.”
Hmm. An oddly abrupt end to the conversation, Damon noted. It seemed the people at the table also noticed the same thing because as he heard Wolfgang depart, he also heard hushed whispers.
“That was weird, wasn’t it?”
“Hate to see him leave, but love to watch him go…”
“Why did he–”
“Oh, that must be why.”
Damon couldn’t resist. Instead of turning around, he shuffled a bit to the right of his circular table so that the table behind would be in his peripheral.
He was greeted with the women in lavish dresses not-so-subtly pointing at a woman glaring in another direction.
“Huh, what do you mean that’s why? Who’s she?”
“Keep up, that’s his ex! She’s Grace Madison, you know, that girl who beat your husband in golf?”
“She dated Mr. Akire?! God, my husband never let me hear the end of it! To this day he still swears she cheated.”
“Isn’t that ironic given how much he–”
“Hey! Don’t talk about that!”
“About what?”
Damon sighed. Not only were they all shameless, but terrible gossips. He was sure anyone within a three table radius could hear their chirping. Damon stole a glance at the woman, Grace Madison. She even dressed like a pro-golfer at the event. She was wearing a nice dress, but it was clearly on the more athletic side. Instead of being weighed down by jewels or gaudiness, it was shorter and more breathable. White with a blue cardigan. And…geez? She was even wearing a golfer visor? If it weren’t for her heels, Damon would have thought she came straight from the golf course.
So Mr. Perfect dated her? She looked a little frosty, Damon wouldn’t have pegged him to go for that type. Standing next to her was another woman, the same height, with an equally intimidating look. She looked very familiar, but definitely not a politician. Damon didn’t care to think it over though, most people at the event were noteworthy, he’d probably seen her face online before. She was pretty recognizable looking, her bright teal eyes were narrowed and they contrasted with her dark hair and complexion. She was standing quite close to Grace, gripping her clothing.
And Grace was still glaring, so Damon followed her gaze all the way to–
Hmm…Mr. Perfect himself. Interesting. So probably not the most amicable breakup. Now Damon can venture a guess whose side the commitment issues were on.
Wolfgang’s expression still looked pleasant at the table he was at (a table far from Grace). And seeing her look of death, Damon couldn’t quite blame Wolfgang turning tail and running. He’d been called intimidating before, but he wasn’t sure he had a look that could send someone for the hills like Grace Madison. Maybe he should get tips.
Damon lost interest in her after a while. It seemed she was content to just brood from across the room. She probably didn’t have much interest in making a scene at a charity function, or at least, the woman she was with didn’t want her to, given the way she was still holding onto Grace’s cardigan like a mother holding one of those leashed toddlers.
He returned back to his faithful glass of champagne. He took one last sip, a little disappointed to find the flute empty. He might as well go for another. He scanned his eyes across the room once more, this time ignoring Wolfgang and Grace, and looking for another tray with a decent looking drink. There was a server not too far from him, but it looked like they were being engaged in conversation (likely against their own will) by some self-important looking snob.
That’s why Damon decided to take a chance and walk over to a further away, but unoccupied waiter. He hoped no one would steal his table while he left. He realized walking over would put him in a closer proximity to Wolfgang, but didn’t care too much. After all, they didn’t have business with each other, so Wolfgang probably wouldn’t even notice his presence.
Ah, yep. Mr. Perfect seemed to be headed away anyway, Damon noted from the corner of his eye, as Wolfgang departed from his table with an “excuse me.” Either Grace was coming his way, or Wolfgang was a real table-hopper. The latter was entirely plausible – he seemed quite popular after all.
Damon focused back on his goal, walking up to his saving grace.
“Evening,” was the greeting he graced the server with, who simply nodded with a smile as Damon reached for a glass ( good , Damon thought, at least they’re not in a mood to talk ). He was about to take it and leave when he felt a presence come up beside him. He spared a quick glance, feeling his stomach drop.
Talk about bad luck. He caught a glimpse of a black jacket, a purple pocket square, and a pale face with a dazzling smile. It was undoubtedly Wolfgang who decided he also needed a glass of champagne. Turns out the guy was just leaving for a simple drink, not to be the life of the party. Curse Damon’s complacency.
Hopefully he’d just take his glass and go, or hopefully Damon could take his and escape.
“Oh, Senator Maitsu, is that you?”
Talk about even worse luck. Not only did Wolfgang have to open his big polite mouth, but he even knew who Damon was.
Normally, Damon isn’t surprised to be recognized. The people voted for him after all, and he was important! But for some reason realizing Wolfgang knew him felt different. Probably because the guy was actually on Damon’s level. Incredibly good at his job, making a real difference, and clearly smart. He was even well-liked, which clearly, Damon couldn’t say the same of himself. He almost felt some smug satisfaction being recognized by the attorney.
With his hand still on the glass, Damon looked up. He put on his most neutral, senatorial face without looking too friendly. “Yes, I am. And you are?”
“Ah, I’m Wolfgang Akire.” Wolfgang introduced himself, outstretching a hand that Damon chose to ignore. Wolfgang seemed to get the hint, or at least assume that Damon hadn’t noticed the gesture, and put his hand back down. “I’m a defense attorney in the area, and I’ll confess I voted for you in the last state election.”
Well damn if that didn’t make Damon feel a little good. He decided to focus a little more on Wolfgang now, and not just the tray of alcohol in front of him. Though that poor server was trapped in behind a conversation now. Oh well, he’d still make it quick, he didn’t forget why he came over after all.
Wolfgang looked better up close. It was annoying. He was a put together kind of guy, with the demeanor to match. And he was currently looking down at Damon. No one deserves to be taller than six feet…
Damon found himself oddly fixated on Wolfgang’s expression. Even though it was humble, it felt almost patronizing. A small, soft look probably constructed for the purpose of amiability. Something about his smile lightly infuriated Damon. He picked up the glass, and responded while looking at it, not sparing a look at Wolfgang, “Never heard of you."
That got a laugh out of Wolfgang, maybe out of surprise for Damon’s bluntness. “Well, I suppose that’s not surprising. I’d imagine you’re quite busy, Senator. Could I bother you to chat? I noticed you’ve been standing alone all night,” Ouch , “maybe we could engage each other? As your humble constituent, I’d enjoy a chance to talk.”
Yeah, it would definitely look bad to turn this guy down. Damon was sure Wolfgang had eyes on him (or more specifically, stares and leers) at all times. He didn’t need another opportunity to look bad. Plus, if all Wolfgang wanted to talk about was Damon’s position as a senator, well, Damon would be pretty agreeable with that. Maybe his knowledge would take Wolfgang down a peg.
“Sure,” Damon responded, making sure it didn’t come out like a grumble. He looked over at his table, still unoccupied. “You can follow me.”
He led the way back to the hightop, not bothering to check if Wolfgang was following him. He stood by the table, and felt impassive noticing Wolfgang beginning to settle at it next to him.
Damon placed his glass on the table, waiting for Wolfgang to follow suit. Then, he furrowed his eyebrows a bit, realizing Wolfgang never actually took a champagne flute.
“Damon,” Wolfgang started, oblivious to Damon’s discovery, staring at him with warmth. Damon felt his eye twitch at the familiarity in his tone and name, just who does this guy think he is ? “Shall we discuss your newest bill? I read over it a while ago, and I’m sure it will be successful.”
“Thanks,” Damon muttered begrudgingly. How did this guy make compliments feel insulting? Something about him bugged Damon relentlessly. Probably the naive amount of positivity he had.
“How is your re-election campaign going so far?”
Time to put on his persona. “It’s going well. I intend on serving another effective six years in office.”
Damon watched Wolfgang beam, he was definitely going to be ill. “Wonderful to hear. I wish you luck on the campaign trail.”
“Appreciated,” play the part Damon, repeated in his head, hoping some kind of press was watching and taking subtle pictures. “What would you like to see during my second term?”
Wolfgang seemed a little taken aback by that question. Damon couldn’t blame him though, he’d probably never asked that in his life. Seeing Wolfgang falter a bit put some energy into him though.
“Hmm, an excellent question.” Wolfgang’s smile was back on, “I’d say more focus on welfare, victim compensation, and of course I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention proposing some kind of policy for legal reform.”
That caught Damon’s attention. “Not satisfied with your own system?”
Wolfgang closed his eyes, making his smile (that, Damon now realized, never seemed to meet his eyes) stand out even more, “Well, I just think there’s always room for improvement! Justice is important after all as I’m sure you’d agree. Is that what motivated you to go into politics?”
Damon tugged on his cufflinks, he’d always hated questions like this, “I’m making a difference. From a young age I was interested in debate, and of course that would get me far in the political sphere. Now I can make change and progress for our nation.”
Wolfgang opened his eyes. He definitely noticed the nonanswer, but graciously decided not to comment on it. “That’s wonderful. Helping others is very important.”
“Is that why you decided to become a lawyer?” Damon could almost smirk, time for a taste of his own medicine.
“Oh!” Wolfgang exclaimed, “That’s of course a great byproduct, but it’s not the sole reason.”
Damon almost blanched at the honesty. A surprisingly real answer coming from Mr. Perfect. Maybe the same moral code that made him a polite, socially-adept robot also made him incapable of lying. “So, why did you become a defense attorney then?”
Wolfgang’s eyes crinkled. Though his words were honest, Damon thinks this was probably the first time tonight his body has been. He seemed genuinely happy, not just putting on a sweet front. “My mother, actually. An incredible attorney. She inspired me into the field.”
Momma’s boy, huh? Guess that fit with his image. Still interesting , Damon thought, though. He considered why Wolfgang was treating him so personally. It was their first conversation. Not like they were friends or anything.
“You work at her firm, then?”
“Ah, no,” Just as fast as it appeared, the happiness went away from Wolfgang’s face. Definitely interesting . “I work at a larger defense firm in the area. It’s slightly different work than my mother’s. She actually was involved in a lot of work with domestic abuse, it's one of the big reasons I support this cause so much.”
“Oh, was she a victim?” Damon almost winced. The words escaped him before he could think. He’s all for a blunt conversation, but that was far too personal to ask. Once again, he didn’t know this guy! They weren’t friends. Geez, way to improve his image, he was praying no one heard him…
Wolfgang’s gaze darkened. More than fair. Damon was about to begin apologizing when Wolfgang spoke, “No, no. She just cared deeply for the cause. Hurting a woman – hurting anyone – is despicable after all. She really cared about helping victims and their families.”
“Sounds like she made a real difference in the world,” Damon remarked. She sounded like the kind of person deserving of a high status in the world. No wonder Wolfgang was so popular and praised. Being raised by someone special should make someone special. Out of all the people he’d met – crooked politicians, entertainers made by nepotism, uncaring CEOs, and other wealthy freaks, Wolfgang Akire was certainly the most interesting. A fact Damon could ascertain within five minutes of talking to him.
He really didn’t know how to feel.
On one hand, it was nice to speak with someone on the same level as him. On the other hand, something about Wolfgang made Damon feel like exploding . Wolfgang put him on edge the moment he heard about him. What the hell was Damon feeling? Intuition? Hatred? Respect?
Ah, that’s right.
Utter bullshit.
Feelings are nonsense. Damon doesn’t have time to work through what the emotion is and why he’s feeling it. As a debater, all he needs to know is how to exploit an emotion. So time to stop focusing on himself…shake it out. Damon huffed internally, going back into the driver’s seat of his own brain.
“That’s certainly true, she did.” Wolfgang now wore a wistful expression, the kind someone gets when they’re having nostalgia about the “good old days.” For such a smart guy who lied as a profession, Damon could see right through Wolfgang. Even the fake happiness he seemed to wear as a suit Damon could look straight past. It made him wonder how a guy like this ever won so many cases.
Damon didn’t have much to say after Wolfgang’s comment. It was the kind of natural lull in a conversation that would lead any normal person to leave and go to their next table.
But as Damon suspected, Wolfgang wasn’t a normal person.
“Damon, could we exchange phone numbers? I understand it's a bit unorthodox as I am just your constituent, but I would be more than happy to help consult on matters of the law. Plus, I like to keep in contact with my friends.”
Damon bit the inside of his mouth. Friends was the last word he’d use to describe them. They barely had a full conversation. He wasn’t even sure that he liked Wolfgang as a mere acquaintance. He didn’t want to have to keep up with him through chat messages and emoticons everyday.
Damon thought about refusing the offer. He really didn’t see the necessity, he didn’t think he’d need any legal help anytime soon. But he also couldn’t come up with a reason to say no to such a polite offer. And the last thing he needed was to look like an asshole at this event to anyone listening.
“Okay,” was his eloquent response.
Maybe he could just give him the number to his work phone. That would surely be a compromise. Then he’d have more of an excuse for dodging his texts.
Just as Damon was about to open his mouth and recite his work number, Wolfgang pulled his phone out and was offering it in his hand to Damon.
“You can put your number in mine, and I’ll do the same for yours.” Then that damn smile again.
Well shit . There goes Damon’s plan. Why didn’t he bring his work phone to the event? Oh, that’s right, because he doesn’t have Eva and Diana’s numbers saved on there. Curse him and the two traitors who called themselves his friends. Note to self, Damon berated himself, always bring personal and work phones to future events.
Damon reluctantly pulled out his phone from his suit pocket. He used the Face ID and handed it to Wolfgang, and then took the lawyer’s phone from his outstretched hand.
Just as he began to type in his number, Damon sensed a disturbance in the force…
He looked up.
Shit.
“Never heard of me, huh?” Wolfgang was beaming now, crinkled eyes full of mirth, probably his second most genuine expression of the night. He was holding back what Damon could only assume would be a maniacal cackle.
Damon felt his cheeks heat up in half-anger, half-embarrassment as Wolfgang Akire held up his own screen. It was still on that blasted Wikipedia page. Wolfgang’s Wikipedia page. The same Wolfgang that Damon pretended not to know. And now not only did Wolfgang know that Damon spouted utter bullshit, he also saw Damon as a complete stalker. Just great.
“You’re an interesting man, Senator,” Wolfgang said, the softness returning to his face. He turned the phone back to him and began typing rapidly. Then, he swiftly returned Damon’s phone, with a new contact inputted. “I really do hope you keep in touch, despite ‘not knowing’ me.”
His words should’ve come off as a cruel tease, but they were spoken so kindly that Damon couldn’t even consider them sardonic. Somehow that made him even more mad.
That’s why he couldn’t stop himself.
“Why do you even want to talk to me anyway?”
And Damon was two for two with surprising Wolfgang with his impulsive comments it seemed. It took a millisecond for Wolfgang to school the stagger from his face. After he did, of course, Damon got the same expression he’d come to be pissed off at throughout the night. Before he could blink, Wolfgang had placed Damon’s hands in his own.
“Because I believe in you, Damon Maitsu.”
Utter. Bullshit.