Not Damon anymore

Today was freaking messed up for Harper. First, her dad's cryptic message to her about fixing her reckless reputation.

And next—

Him.

That mysterious stranger. That tall jerk who probably thinks stealing the book from her and ignoring her is a fun personality to have. The audacity. That was killing her the most. She was not short. She knew with enough effort she would have been able to reach for the book.

The worst part was that she was yelled at by the librarian. Could the day get even worse?!

Her steps were fast, almost stomping, as she shoved her way through the quad, her mood growing worse with every breath.

Her day just officially hit rock bottom.

"Perfect," she muttered under her breath. "Just freaking perfect."

****

Club Nova was loud. Neon lights flickering across the ceilings. Loud music. Dim lights. Alcohol's scent filling the whole place. People were making out, dancing, and laughing.

And there Logan Hayes was, leaning back in the leather booth, observing the lights flickering across the ceilings. The bass thumped heavy, rattling in his chest like a second heartbeat.

This evening was for Logan Hayes to drown out the day. He wanted to be alone to think. He hadn't been seeing Damian Blackwood recently after their last meeting, and he couldn't help but wonder if Damian had actually given up trying to send him back home.

Why on earth did Rapture need him? There was no possible way that he was going back to that life. Ever.

He ran a hand through his hair, signaling the bartender for another drink.

The noise helped—just enough to blur the parts of his mind that wouldn't shut up.

Just as he lifted his glass, a familiar voice broke through the haze.

"And look at who I find here. Didn't think I'd see you here."

His jaw clenched.

Slowly, he turned.

Damian Blackwood was leaning casually against the side of the booth, one hand slipped into his pocket and the other holding a glass. His icy blue eyes just stared at Logan as though he was a problem that required solving.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Logan Hayes muttered.

Damian tilted his head, pretending to study the lights like he had all the time in the world. "It's a club. Everyone is allowed to come in," he replied.

Logan paused for a second, then he scoffed. "What are you doing here then? Why the fuck are you standing in my face?"

"Well," Damian Blackwood sipped his wine from the glass in his hand before continuing, "we were both trained to have no emotions. To not feel for anyone. To be nonchalant."

He paused, taking a step forward. "But we weren't trained to stay away from family. Now do I really have to be questioned before I come and see you?"

There was an awkward silence between them. Damian Blackwood stared at Logan like he expected an answer, although he didn't. Logan had no explanation to give. He didn't even have anyone to offer.

"You've been ignoring the family's calls."

He clicked his tongue, shaking his head.

"Rapture's not happy."

Logan let out a dry laugh, setting his glass down a little too hard.

"Rapture's never been happy. That's not new."

Damian's gaze narrowed.

"You've been playing college boy for long enough. It's time to come back. Time to stop pretending you're someone you're not."

Logan's smile vanished.

The air between them shifted—thick with history and buried grudges.

"Leave. You wasted your time coming here. You obviously know my answer," Logan said, voice low, dangerous.

"No, you can't always give me that answer. It's ridiculous," Damian Blackwood replied calmly.

"Wait, let me get this straight. You came here to lecture me?" Logan asked, forcing a sharp chuckle.

"I came to remind you who you really are." Damian's voice was smooth, but every word was a calculated push. "You're Damon Blackwood. You belong back home. You're wasting time here with these…" A pause. ".....distractions."

"Distractions?" Logan Hayes repeated, eyes cold. Then, in one swift motion, he drunk the wine in his hand in one gulp and stood up.

"Well, these distractions help me forget about my ugly past," Logan said, his green eyes covered with building rage.

His words hit Damian. Hard. But he remained expressionless.

Logan Hayes pushed past Damian, heading for the exit.

"Damon," Damian Blackwood called.

But before Logan could leave, he paused just long enough to glance back over his shoulder.

"For the last time, Damian, I'm no more Damon Blackwood."

He shot back sharply—like his words were final. The kind that needed no "buts."

And with that, he disappeared into the crowd, leaving Damian standing there alone—expression unreadable, but eyes burning with silent calculation.