Chapter Text
Spring 2022
When Damien walked into the crowded bar/grill, he quickly began to doubt his life choices. There seemed to be a karaoke night setup taking place in the bar portion of the establishment, and he could just barely hear the echo of soft voices filtering into the waiting area. He was struggling to figure out just why the hell he was here. This wasn’t the type of place he’d usually find himself, unless he was tagging along on an after work Smosh hang, but he’d never choose to show up solo to a place like this. Truthfully, he wasn’t the one to pick it. He was ten minutes early to meet his Tinder date.
In all sincerity, he was looking for a serious change of pace. After his last relationship had imploded, he’d been a bit hesitant to get back out there. He’d endured the support and well-wishing of his friends who’d done their best to reassure him that there was nothing unusual about turning to dating apps in the modern age, especially after the global paradigm shift post pandemic. It didn’t feel so easy to meet people organically and discover genuine connections. He'd only been messaging Megan for a week, so he wasn’t sure what she’d be like in person.
Damien hadn’t necessarily felt any sparks in their conversations, but he figured that was typical over DMs. She wasn’t particularly funny, but she was interesting and seemed sweet over text. Despite almost dreading the motions of going on a first date for the first time in a couple of years, he wasn’t really all that nervous. Counterintuitively, his gut insisted that it didn’t bode well for his evening. It wasn’t like Damien wanted to feel anxious, he didn’t; still, if he didn’t feel excited or fluttery, he wondered yet again what the hell he was doing here.
This last breakup had been absolutely brutal, and it was as though his brain had dragged his heart into survival mode, cloaking his thoughts and his expectations in cynicism. He wasn’t ready to just give up, but he felt gun-shy, like there was a cautious voice in his head that warned him how easily he could be made a fool again.
Being a fool wasn’t the worst thing in the world, that was just how Damien loved, fully, sincerely and unabashedly. Still, being made into a brokenhearted fool was a whole other beast of burden. He tried to convince himself that the butterflies in his chest weren’t dead, just hibernating. So, his heart was locked away for now, but he could be persuaded to pass off the key if he met somebody he wanted to fall for. He just didn’t think he had it in him to jump right in, especially if he wasn’t sure. He was determined to be more vigilant about paying attention to red flags before he allowed himself to fall in love again. He’d spent too much time listening to his hopeful heart and not his innate instincts; so, he intended to change that this time around. He was stubborn to lead with his head before he permitted his heart to follow.
Damien figured he had a little time to kill so he decided to head into the bar for a drink. He’d recently decided that he wanted to cut back on drinking and if he was nervous, he might’ve picked a different time to start. Still, if he was leading with his head, he couldn’t imbibe. With a little bit of alcohol in his system, he’d feel light and fluttery; so, he’d be more likely to interpret the manipulative mood-shift to indicate a spark with his date.
No, he had to meet Megan stone cold sober if he wanted to fairly judge his own feelings. Somebody was practically screeching the climax of some Taylor Swift breakup song as he took a stool at the bar. He’d just finished ordering a club soda with lime, looking at his reflection in the mirror and boredly shuffling through the fading blue of his hair, when a woman with long brown hair seemed to sprint to his side at the bar to snag the bartender’s attention.
“Shit.” She mumbled under her breath as she looked back at the karaoke screen behind her, before whipping her head back to the man as he set down Damien’s drink. “Hey,” She put on a brilliant mega-watt smile for the man. “I’m about to go up next, so can I just get a shot of tequila, please?” She sweetly asked, her impatient nerves contained to her antsy shuffling through her own hair, not directed the slightest bit at the bartender.
The man nodded and got to work. “On your tab?”
“Yes, thank you.” She called over the singer, not predicting the adjustment of the immediate drop in volume as the song ended, effectively shouting in the suddenly much too quiet bar. “Just need a little liquid courage.”
Several people looked over at her perceived outburst. Damien would’ve too if she hadn’t already caught his attention with her somewhat chaotic and cute energy. She noticed the immediate attention focused on her, and despite her palpable embarrassment from her pretty blush she easily laughed at herself.
It was a delightfully loud and undeniably sincere cackle. It yanked a grin to Damien’s face within a second. She shook her head with a smirk before seeming to notice him beside her.
The woman gave him an easily playful grimace that felt like an inside joke between complete strangers. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scream just then.” She said, the laugh still lingering in her voice. “I hope your ears aren’t ringing.”
Damien dumbly shook his head; his ears weren’t ringing but his mind had the second he met her sweet maple gaze. There was something so expressive and open about her warm eyes that he briefly felt like he’d fallen into them. “Not now, but tinnitus does tend to have long term effects.” He flatly teased.
Her eyes cutely narrowed just as her shot was placed in front of her. “Thanks.” She said to the bartender. “Add his drink to my tab.” She looked back at Damien with a genuine grin. “Consider it payment for damages. That’s the most I can offer as an actor with shit insurance.” She laughed, slamming back her shot as a loud cacophony of voices shouted from the other end of the bar. “Angela!”
The woman took in a sharp breath to combat the sting of her shot as she nodded. “Coming!” She – Angela looked back at Damien. “Enjoy your night.” She offered with a sweet smile before hurrying off to rejoin her group.
Damien felt the flutter hit his chest as he watched her run away, responding too late. “Yeah, you too.” He quickly grabbed his drink and took a hefty sip, deciding to play dumb and blame the bubbly feeling in his chest on his carbonated drink, knowing full well that he hadn’t taken a sip when his heart had stuttered in his chest.
Even if he wanted to play dumb, he immediately realized he was shit at it, turning in his stool, leaning his back against the bar as he watched her go up to the small stage, her giddy smile lighting up her beautiful, bashful face as her friends hyped her up, when an upbeat country song began playing. Holding the microphone at her side, she pointed at one of her friends, her voice still loud enough to be heard. “This one’s for you.”
Damien didn’t recognize the song as he read it off the screen: ‘Whose Bed Have Your Boots Been Under’, though it was by one of the few country artists he knew, Shania Twain. Once Angela lifted the microphone up, Damien could tell she was an actress, all shyness gone as her enchanting voice picked up the energy of the crowd as she danced and performed to her friends, for the entirety of the bar. It was a surprisingly peppy and upbeat breakup song about a woman calling out her serial-cheater boyfriend.
Still, Angela spun around with ease, something so effervescent and mesmerizing about her performance on the stage. She wasn’t simply a joy to watch, she was captivating, inevitable, musical and unignorable.
Damien lost himself watching the stranger hypnotize the crowd, himself included for the 4-minute number. He wondered about her, an actress.
Damien didn’t know this woman, but he hoped she’d make it big. Somebody with that kind of inherent charisma and enchanting presence deserved an audience. There was a blinding spark about her. Even as her friend went up next, they pulled Angela and another woman to do backup vocals. Angela took the lead in also putting on the hat of backup dancer as they swayed and shifted like some lady trio from the 60s. Back up or not, there was something inherent about the way Angela drew in attention, even when relegated to offering support. She wasn’t trying to steal the show, but she did.
Damien grinned and giggled watching the trio perform a theatrical call and response during the third verse of the song, charmed by the intentional silliness of the performance.
His eyes only fell from the stage once she was stepping off of it, returning to a table with her 2 friends in tow. Damien turned back to his drink when he realized it was 5 minutes into his date and he hadn’t received any response to letting Megan know that he was waiting at the bar.
He figured she was probably on the road, so he decided to finish his club soda before sending a message to check in. Ten minutes later, he popped on Tinder to find that Megan had not only unmatched with him, her profile had completely vanished, obviously deleted.
Damien let out a sardonic laugh at himself. Of course.
He felt validated for his cold feet about dating now being stood up on the first date he’d gone on since his breakup. After all the mental gymnastics he’d had to go through to drag himself out tonight, it felt like a waste, or worse, a bad omen.
He really didn’t appreciate the universe sending him signs to give up. It’s not like he was desperate to be in a relationship; honestly, he was more worried about becoming closed off. Tonight was supposed to be like a test run, a practice session of tossing his heart into the wild, just to keep it pumping so it didn’t atrophy. But it completely fell through. He was more let down by the experience than the actual loss of his date, which just further stoked that scarred and strained voice in his head that insisted he was getting back out there for the wrong reasons. Still, he was jilted, so he decided to get himself a real drink.
He opened up a tab and ordered a rum and coke. Damien slowly sipped on it as he conducted an internal check-in. Realistically, he knew it wasn’t too soon to be dating; regardless, it was unpleasant to do it just so he didn’t end up rusty. Even if his most recent relationship made him feel somewhat jaded, he refused to believe it was impossible for him to feel giddy and smitten over someone again. Just because he’d been broken, it didn’t mean that he was broken. Still, he didn’t like the idea of forcing himself to search for something, someone. Honestly, he was ready to just let go of the wheel. If it was meant to happen, if he was meant to meet someone, he would. It was stupid to think he could control it.
So, tonight was a failed experiment. He refused to let the weight of it act as some unfortunate sign for whatever the future might hold. Getting stood up was just par for the course. So, he decided to nurse his drink, maybe order a second and then just shrug off the whole damn thing.
Damien was in the middle of debating, if he should just close out early and take an Uber home as the jovial sound of strangers talking, dancing and singing made him briefly feel all alone in the world, when a crowd of people pushed through the entrance, knocking into a group of people gathered near the bar causing somebody to bump into him, spilling their drink on his hand.
“Shit.” That soft voice sounded beside him, and Damien turned to see her grabbing a stack of napkins to clean up her mess. “Sorry about that; some guy shoved passed like a butthead.” Angela apologetically huffed as she tried to clean up the spill on the bar and his hand.
He couldn’t help but laugh at the easy and innocent insult of a stranger that was already long gone. “Can you speak up? Somebody screamed in my ears a few minutes ago.” He teased with a smirk.
Angela looked up at him when she let out a softer laugh, her pretty eyes alight with humor. “Hey, at least you got a free drink out of it; I don’t often make a habit of paying dues to the people I deafen, so consider yourself lucky.”
Damien already did. He chuckled back at her. “People? As in plural? Do you often make a habit of deafening people?”
Angela gave him a shrug and a guilty grin. “Not on purpose.” She gave him a playful once-over. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but you’re not special, Mr. Tinnitus.”
He couldn’t disagree more; he felt pretty damn special to be teased by her. He laughed with a shake of his head. “It’s Damien.” He offered his hand.
She cutely smirked as she shook it, her palm so small and soft in comparison to his own. “Angela.”
“Nice to meet you.” He said with a nod as she let go.
“Nice to deafen, spill on and meet you; in that order.” She said with playful self-admonishment.
“Well, clearly, the pleasure’s all mine.” He teased (flirted) with a bemused smile.
“I hope I didn’t ruin your night.” She offered, sincere embarrassment, peeking through her tone as a beautiful blush built up in her cheeks.
“Hardly.” Damien said with a smile and an easy shake of his head, feeling a bit more compelled to intentionally flirt in hopes of continuing the conversation. “I have to admit you’ve been the only noteworthy part of it.” He leaned in to whisper. “I just found out that I’ve been stood up.”
Her pretty blush fell away to sympathetic surprise as her expressive eyes widened. “Oh, I’m sorry. That’s awful.” She tentatively tapped his arm. “Hey, why don’t you join my friends and I?”
Damien was flattered and feeling all too eager to take her up on the offer, anything to keep talking to her. “I don’t want to intrude on your girls’ night.”
She let out a sweet scoff. “You wouldn’t be. We’re just toasting to my friend breaking up with her awful, cheating boyfriend. All who’ve been jilted by love are more than welcome to join.”
Damien laughed. “I wouldn’t go that far; it was supposed to be a first date.”
“You’ve still been jilted.” She easily pointed out.
Damien laughed again. “Damn, you don’t hold back. Want to go ahead and mug me while you’re at it, just to round out my evening?”
She gave him a cute little grimace. “My bad. I can see that I’ve definitely given your zero incentive to join with all my strikes against you.” She laughed at herself. “Probably for the best as I can’t guarantee I won’t roast you again; I have a tendency to speak before I think.”
Damien smirked back, certain that tonight couldn’t be a waste as he was already entirely enchanted by the woman in front of him. He was eager and intrigued to get to know her. “Honestly, that sounds like all the incentive I need to agree. It’s certainly been entertaining thus far.”
Angela grinned up at him. “How well do you know Single Ladies by Beyonce?”
Damien’s laugh grew once he realized she wasn’t teasing him but sincerely asking. “I’m not committing to perform any numbers until I meet the rest of the group.”
She giggled. “Fair enough.” She ordered a tequila sunrise to sip on, and Damien got another rum and coke before he followed her to the table, his nerves sparking off like a firecracker. This was very unlike him; he was not the guy to troll bars to meet women or impose his presence on a group of women, but he found it impossible to reject Angela’s invitation, especially with her gorgeous grin and bright, sparkling eyes full of warm welcome.
Angela was exuding humored confidence as she introduced Damien to her friends who easily smiled at him, though he noted the soft way their eyes scrutinized him as a strange man. “Hey, guys, this is Damien. I owe him reparations for adding insult to his night of injury. He wants to join in our pity party.” Angela playfully teased and Damien couldn’t help but laugh at her unfiltered way of speaking, both refreshing and witty as she gestured to her friends. “This is Mariah and our guest of honor, Amy.”
Damien shook both their hands with a smile. “Nice to meet you.” He paused while speaking to the latter. “I was in the exact same position a few months back, so I sincerely offer you both condolences and congratulations.”
His honest sympathy seemed to further soften the scrutiny with Angela’s friends. Still, the biggest reaction came from Angela herself as she gave him a familiar and gentle shove. “Hey, you didn’t tell me that. Now I’m sure you’re meant to be here.” She said so easily with the sweetest smile and Damien worried he might already be blushing. He was absolutely going to stop after his second cocktail.
“So, then what is the reason for your night of injury?” Mariah inquired.
Damien shrugged through swallowing down a sip. “First date stood me up.”
Angela paused, her wide and expressive eyes far too entertaining and fun to watch. “Wait; this wasn’t supposed to be your first date after your breakup, was it?” She cringed with the slightest edge of concerned pity in her voice, obviously hoping her assumption was wrong.
Damien grimaced back at her as he inhaled through his teeth before nodding. The gesture was met with a harmony of three sympathetic groans. “Guys, it’s okay. Everybody has a shitty experience post breakup. I’ll be fine; it’s just par for the course.” He quickly realized the implication of his statement before shaking his hand, speaking to Amy. “I mean, not everybody. I’m sure your experience will be better than mine, once you get back out there-”
She effortlessly laughed at his concern. “Don’t worry. None taken. Besides, I don’t intend to stress about that for a while.”
“That’s my girl!” Angela said, lifting her drink in a cheers’ gesture. Damien was the last to clink his glass. “To all my Single Ladies.” She teased, actually offering him a brief wink, reminding him of her earlier inquiry.
Damien chuckled as he joined in on the cheer, his chest fluttery and warm. “Single Ladies.” He took a small sip.
“So, Damien.” Angela nudged him. “We were all comparing notes on our personal heartbreak remedies. What would you say is your style of pity party? We’ve got junk food and romcoms, drunken trauma dumping, and breakup karaoke songs.”
“Ooh,” He thought for a second. “Do I have to choose? I feel like I hit them all in different stages.”
Mariah shook her head. “You have to choose; rules are rules.”
“Pick your priority.” Angela offered.
“Hmm.” He bit his lip as he decided. “I love a good trauma-dump, but I’m more likely to do that sober.” He laughed at himself. “So, probably trauma-dump to friends first. Then scream-singing karaoke, followed by a night in with junk food and romcoms.”
Angela clinked his glass. “Same. That’s a proper pity party right there.”
“Okay, hit us with your step one.” Mariah prompted. “Dump that trauma.”
“Mariah!” Angela scolded before looking up at him. “Sorry, you don’t have to say anything to absolute strangers.”
Damien shook his head with a shrug. “I don’t mind.” He looked back at her friends. “As long as you guys are prepared to hear something a little messy.”
“Agh, yes, please. Let me live in somebody else’s drama for a minute.” Amy exclaimed in relief.
“Careful what you wish for.” He warned after swallowing back a sip. “So, I have this onscreen gig, and I started dating a colleague-”
“Nope.” Angela shook her head. “That’s like the cardinal rule, especially for actors.”
“I know.” He nodded. “Don’t date costars; boy, have I learned my lesson. Talk about a disaster.” Damien continued his story, doing his best to keep the details vague as he recounted his semi-secret relationship that ended in him learning of her infidelity, followed by her issues with his company and the complete severing of his last relationship.
When he concluded, Amy sympathetically patted his arm, clearly tipsy enough to not mince words. “Thanks for the perspective shift. I feel incredibly fortunate right now.”
‘Sucks to be you’ she was saying, and for the first time in months, Damien couldn’t help but disagree. At this moment, feeling Angela’s gaze on him soften, her eyes warm and sweet like maple syrup, Damien felt pretty damn fortunate.
The gentle smile on her face was like salve over a stinging wound he’d been trying to ignore. “So, what did you scream-sing at karaoke?”
Damien gave her a guilty grin. “I actually didn’t.”
Her animated eyes widened before she shook her head. “Well, that simply won’t do.” She grabbed his hand. “Come on.” She said while effortlessly pulling him away in the direction of the DJ booth.
“Do I get a say in this?” He playfully teased once they reached their destination.
She let go of his hand and gave him a determined nod. “In what you sing, absolutely.”
“And what if I don’t sing?” He countered with a grin.
“With a voice that rich and smooth?” She flattered effortlessly as she shook her head. “I don’t buy it for a second.”
Damien bashfully rubbed at the back of his neck. “Thanks. Okay, well, now I guess I’ll just have to surprise you.” He grabbed a slip of paper and a pencil from the booth.
Angela shook her head as she followed suit, signing her trio up for Single Ladies as he ruminated on a good choice. “I doubt I’ll be surprised. I’m more interested in being impressed.” She issued her flirtatious challenge with a sexy little smirk and a wink, her words punctuated by sliding her selection to the back of the short queue before strutting away to leave a blushing and determined Damien.
Angela was up in two songs by the time he’d settled on a perfect scream-sing breakup song selection to get the energy of the bar up. The trio were already talking about their upcoming number when he returned to the table. “So, Damien, now that you’ve met the group, want to turn our trio into a barbershop quartet?”
He chuckled. “I don’t know. Single Ladies is an iconic trio performance. Besides, who’s going to save the table?”
“He makes a good point.” Mariah agreed.
Angela put on the prettiest pout Damien had ever seen as she begrudgingly nodded. “Fine. I’m only letting it go because you so politely allowed me to coerce you into singing.”
“How gracious of you.” He teased before taking a sip.
“You’re welcome.” She smugly returned before her eyes checked the screen.
Damien noticed that they were up next and all three women had nearly a half-full cocktail. “Hey, do you guys have a few hair ties?”
Angela’s brows furrowed in confusion, though she was already reaching into her purse. “Yeah, I should have a pack in here. Why?”
“One second.” He gestured before hastening to the bar and grabbed a handful of napkins. When he returned, he passed each woman a napkin before silently instructing as he snagged one of Angela’s offered hair ties, stabbing his straw through the napkin before fastening it over the rim of his glass with the hair tie. They easily smirked and followed suit. Still, he noticed the pensive glance he received from Angela. “Hey, just because I offered to watch the table, doesn’t mean I’m not going to be moving. Single Ladies has way too much hand choreography for me to keep these all covered if I want to join in.”
Angela laughed, mumbling under her breath, blushing ever so slightly as she copied her friends. “Dork.”
A minute later, when the three women headed for the stage, he pushed their drinks to the center of the table before making good on his promise. Angela barely made it through the first chorus before she had to pass the microphone over to Mariah to take the lead as she was practically gasping through her giggles to see Damien dutifully and flawlessly performing the dance at their table without a shred of embarrassment, enjoying himself far too much now that he was finally the cause of Angela’s loud and unrestrained laughter. Damien never minded acting like a clown in pursuit of getting a pretty girl to laugh; it was how he’d survived puberty. Only this wasn’t for survival, it was for the fun, the fulfilling satisfaction to earn her sincere and specific laugh.
When they finally finished singing, he erupted into borderline obnoxious applause and cheering, getting grins from all three women. “That was phenomenal.” Angela accepted his high-five, still softly laughing at him.
“Yeah, well thank God you didn’t join. You would’ve completely stolen the show.” She teased, sounding somewhat sincere. “Now, it’s your turn.”
“Right.” He nodded as he suddenly remembered. He popped the napkin-top off of his drink, gulping back the last quarter of it, feeling her warm gaze on him. His name was called, and he took a breath before imitating Angela from earlier. “Just needed a little liquid courage.” He loudly teased, giving her a flirty wink. Angela blushed through her laugh as she playfully shoved him in the direction of the DJ booth. He grinned, giving one last look back as he left the table. “Wish me luck.”
“Good luck!” Amy and Mariah called back as he stepped up to take the microphone.
The title of his song was displayed as the first notes of the solitary acoustic guitar began. Damien kept his focus on his table, noticing some sense of recognition fill her sparkling eyes as the rest of the band kicked in. He put everything into his vocal ability to duplicate the raw power in Melissa Etheridge’s raspy voice as he steadily traversed through the first verse that led into the powerhouse chorus of I’m The Only One practically shaking the bar as he belted out without a shred of restraint. He already felt pretty successful in the current status of his first impression, but it was like getting extra credit when he met Angela’s awe-stricken eyes. He appeared to have surpassed her expectations of impressing her, but that wasn’t all. He could feel her expressive gaze taking, drinking him in, making him feel so seen, he briefly wondered if he was transparent.
Surprisingly, Damien hoped so; he wanted Angela all too aware that the way she was looking at him right now was exactly how he’d been looking at her since she’d sprinted to the bar and effortlessly stole away his attention. Damien felt confident, almost cocky, when he clocked that her friends also seemed to notice. He’d impressed Angela and he hoped that was enough to hold her attention throughout the night.
She made him look like an absolute amateur cheerleader as she broke out into applause and hollers; her friends cheering just as sincerely, though much tamer as he rejoined them. Angela gently swatted his arm. “I can’t believe I had to force you to sing. If I could sound like that I’d never shut up.” He bashfully laughed at her complimentary tease when Amy snorted in a laugh.
“Ang, I love you, but you totally can, and still, you never do. Blabbermouth.” She taunted.
Angela giggled. “Thank you and honestly fair. Love you too, bitch.”
“Yeah, I heard you earlier; it’s too late for false modesty.” He added, feeling thirsty, but not the least interested in sustaining his gentle buzz. “Well, I’m going to get a drink.”
“I’ll go with you.” Angela said, grabbing her and Mariah’s empty glasses. “Sex on the beach, right?” She recalled to her friend. “I got you.”
As they headed over to the bar, Angela nudged him. “You were incredible. I had a feeling, but I really had no idea.” She said as they set their empty glasses on the bar.
“Thanks.” He smiled back at her, his chest fluttery and his expression eager.
She put on a cute grimace. “Okay, I promise this is not network talk, but I’m too damn curious to not ask. So, no big details, but after that performance, I have to know; you said you had an onscreen gig, does it involve anything theater or musical related? You’re a singer, right?” He shook his head, and her gasp came out almost offended. “Shut up! You can’t just have a voice like that and not use it as a performer.”
It was nice to learn that she was just as brash and sincere with her compliments as she was about her roasts. “Well, I do use my voice, but rarely for singing. I mainly do voice acting.” He chose to leave it at that. Even if he was proud of his jobs with Smosh and Twitch-streaming, he knew that they didn’t sound quite as legitimate on paper and for some reason, it was really important to him that Angela knew he had an official job as an actor.
Her eyes widened with naïve yet sincere interest. “That’s so cool. So, you do like accents and voices?”
“Usually.” He nodded. “Mainly for things like anime and video games.”
“I’d ask if I know of anything you’ve done, but to be honest, I only know games like Crazy Taxi.” She admitted with a smirk causing him to laugh. “And I’m embarrassed to admit that I don’t even know what anime is.”
He could tell; the word sounded unsure, almost virginal falling from her tongue. Damien smirked. “I’d probably have an easier time trying to explain the meaning of life than trying to define anime. Don’t worry; we don’t have to talk shop about it.”
The bartender stopped by and Angela insisted he order first. Damien returned to his club soda with lime, and she gave him a thoughtful glance. He felt compelled to explain as his drink was being poured. “I’m not a big drinker. I’ve recently thought about quitting full-stop, but my personal pity party initially required a couple of cocktails.”
Angela’s face held no concern or judgment, only curiosity. “I don’t think I’ve ever had that before; is it any good?”
His drink was placed before him. “Want to try it?”
“You sure?” She asked with sweet surprise. “I mean, I’m Covid negative.”
Damien laughed as she ordered a sex on the beach for Mariah. “I figured as much since you’re here.” He said as he pushed his drink towards her and plopped a straw in.
Angela took a small sip before snagging her straw. “That’s pretty good.” She asked the bartender for one before acknowledging Damien. “I should also switch to non-alcoholic drinks, so my girls can let loose. Luckily, I now have a refreshing alternative. The only non-alcoholic drink I’d think to order a bar is a Shirley Temple.”
“Hey, don’t bash Shirley Temples.” He teased.
Angela lifted her hands in playful surrender. “I would never, but with that tequila sunrise, I’ve had a total of 2 shots of tequila; if I drink that much sugar on top of that, I’m bound to get a hangover tomorrow, no matter what.”
“Fair point.” He nodded as her drinks were set down and she thanked the bartender. She still meandered for a moment, and Damien was grateful she enjoyed his company enough to not feel as though she needed to rush back to her friends. “So, I’m curious.” He began with a sip, feeling warm as she openly watched him. “Just to tip the scales back to equilibrium; the pandemic must’ve been pretty difficult for you live-performance actors.” He easily deduced.
Angela smirked back at him. “What makes you think I do live performance?”
“Gut feeling. Anyone watching you up there,” He nodded his head in the direction of the stage. “Should be able to recognize it, at least in this town.”
“I’m choosing to take that as a compliment.” She said with pursed lips and playfully narrowed eyes.
“You should.” He nodded.
Angela blushed a bit from his confirmation. “Well, I wear a few different hats, some live performance, some not. I’ve done a lot over Zoom in the past few years, especially my,” She timidly ran her hand through her thick and soft looking chocolate locks. “New podcast that I do with a few of my improv acting buddies.”
Damien brightened. “Improv, really? Now I’m dying to know. What’s the name of your podcast?”
“Nuh-unh.” She shook her head with a flustered grin. “No way I’m sharing that. I think I’d prefer to have you read my middle school diary than have you listen to my podcast.” She grabbed her drinks and rushed to escape to their table.
“Oh, come on.” Damien grabbed his own, following her. “You’re no fun.”
When they got back to the table, Mariah remarked on Angela’s drink. “Ang, you’re not DD. None of us drove here.”
“I know, but I can still be the designated,” She verbally stumbled, trying to think of a word choice that would fit. “Dame. Yeah, that’s it. I’m the Designated Dame, keeping an eye on her ladies and protecting them.”
“That sounds more like a madam.” Amy pointed out with a small giggle.
“Yeah, besides, I’m the designated Dame-ien.” He lamely joked.
Angela tauntingly booed him. “No, you aren’t a dame, but if you want, we’ll compromise. You can be designated Dames, but I’m the Dame.” She insisted.
“Yes, Ma’am.” He sincerely responded, only turning it into a tease when he saluted her.
Damien’s night had completely turned around; he was having a blast with his new friends. There was something so cathartic and congenial about the energy of the trio’s company and something indescribably electric about his proximity to Angela at their table. As the hours passed and their dual club sodas were drained and replenished thrice over, they continued to all chat about anything and everything besides work, in between some solo numbers and duets.
Over the 4 hours they spent at their surprisingly positive pity party, Damien only sang twice more. One solo performance that earned him that deliciously addictive sunshine giggle of Angela’s as he put on a truly ham-and-cheesy rendition of Unbreak My Heart by Toni Braxton. His final performance and the table’s last song of the night was a damn near revolutionary and transformative duet of Total Eclipse of the Heart with Angela as their voices blended together sounded like a heavenly harmony to his sober ears.
After the crescendo, there was a moment as the melody softened along with their voices, that Damien could feel an infinitesimal shift in Angela’s eyes, and he felt like she was kissing him from 3 feet away.
Damien actually had to disrupt his mental state to refrain from the magnetic pull he felt to touch her. This was incredibly new to him; he usually had to know a person for a while before feeling this kind of intense desire, but somehow, senselessly, he felt like he had. He could see Angela, so much of her honestly wading on the surface, no deception or guile in her expressive eyes or her sweet smile. She was kind, outgoing, talented, witty, welcoming, funny, beautiful, confident, yet still unaware of the true power of her captivating presence. And he desperately wanted to kiss her.
Damien wanted to … … … cool his head down, because he was not the horndog that got lost in his own hormones in his 30s.
They passed off their microphones, and he politely excused himself to close out. He didn’t see her at their table when he passed by on his way to the restroom.
There he found her when he took his place at the door of the men’s single stall, gently knocking to be met with a burly and gruff voice as he shared a humored smirk with her in the cramped hall as they waited.
“That,” Angela broke the silence, tentatively licking her lip as she looked up at him, causing his fluttery heart to pound in his chest. “Was probably the best damn duet this place has ever heard.”
Damien let out a low laugh, thankful it didn’t shake with his raising pulse as she seemed to get just the slightest bit closer. “I’m too arrogant to disagree. We sounded pretty damn incredible together.” He tried and failed to stop himself from watching in a devoted daze as she gnawed on her bottom lip; the scent of her hair sweetly bombarding his sense with just how close they were.
For the first time in his life, he was seriously debating kissing a relative stranger outside a bar restroom. His compulsion stumbled before execution as his thoughts stuttered at the sound of the toilet flushing in the women’s restroom, though neither of them moved or averted their gaze until suddenly Angela let out a soft and sensual hum as she looked at his lips and leaned in close. “I wonder how many different ways we could sound pretty damn incredible together.” She whispered with her lustful and lovely gaze stealing his breath.
He only got that one breath to react before the women’s restroom door unlocked and opened. Angela easily slipped in, giving him a tantalizingly teasing smirk before she shut the door as its former occupant quickly exited the cramped corridor.
Damien took the quietest full breath of his life as he tried to calm down his racing heart. Angela appeared to have the exact same thing on her mind, and Damien felt himself locked in an internal argument.
He wasn’t this guy (usually), though he never judged those who hooked up so quickly. He knew that he should be the good and chivalrous boy who held off, used some patience and tried to court the woman if she was open to it. But the truth was he wasn’t sure she would be, Angela seemed pretty content to be single and everything in Damien’s brain and body demanded that he didn’t fumble and strike out by disrupting the moment.
A minute later, his restroom opened up as a large man made his way out. Damien made his way inside and took a few deep breaths before relieving his bladder.
His blood felt spiked with spontaneity. Not only did he desperately want to do this, he couldn’t think of a single reason he shouldn’t. He’d been keeping pace with her all night, so the flustered gentleman inside him couldn’t even try to argue that she was at all intoxicated. And even though Damien almost felt like he was drunk, he knew for a fact, that he was completely sober. He had never felt a charge like this before and he wanted, needed to follow it.
When he returned to their table a few minutes later, the trio of women fresh from closing out were discussing sharing an Uber as Mariah said that she’d promised to stay the night at Amy’s. Damien decided to plunge out his proposal, hoping he’d garnered enough trust from the women tonight. “Well, no pressure, but I could save you the money. I drove here, and my second drink was,” He checked his phone for an accurate calculation. “A little over 4 hours ago.”
Damien didn’t have to look at Angela to feel her desire to agree, besides, Mariah was too busy watching him like a hawk. “I know you’re sober, but you’d have to drop Angela off after us, alone.” Her implication could not have been clearer. “I’ll agree on one condition.” He silently nodded her on. “I’m taking a picture of your license plate, and if I don’t hear from her in the morning, you’ll be hearing from the cops.” She threatened. “Understood?”
Damien was well aware of the reality that led to such precautions, so he didn’t undercut her sincere severity by making a joke as he immediately nodded. “Wholeheartedly. I promise to drive extra safe.”
Mariah reluctantly smirked with a nod, before Amy scoffed, dragging her towards the exit. “Don’t kill their vibe.”
Damien couldn’t help but blush as he followed Angela out while she needlessly apologized. “Sorry about that.”
He shook his head. “Don’t be. You have great friends.”
Angela wore an innocent grin, and he marveled at the true multitudes of this woman. “Yeah, I really do.” She smirked as they walked out into the brisk and fresh Spring night as Damien hit the unlock button on his key fob, getting Amy and Mariah’s attention a few strides ahead of them. Angela gave him that heated and intoxicating smirk as she softly spoke. “That’s why Mariah said she expects to hear from me tomorrow morning.” She easily hinted before practically skipping her way to the front seat as Mariah, true to her word, took a picture of his license plate before getting in. Damien took a deep breath, hoping the chilly air might slow the anticipatory fever of his skin. Technically, it already was tomorrow; still, Damien felt motivated by the desire to make tonight last.
Despite the palpable tension between Damien and Angela, the car ride to Amy’s house wasn’t the least bit awkward; it was actually incredibly lively once he gave Angela full control of the radio as all 4 of them sang along to 90’s nostalgia hits, the night concluding in an enjoyable and giddy quartet finale of Britney Spears’ Hit Me Baby One More Time.
Once Damien pulled up beside Amy’s apartment complex, he shook her and Mariah’s hands, thanking them for resuscitating his night. Angela knowingly rolled down her window as Mariah stepped out before leaning through her window, giving Angela a one-armed hug. Damien accidentally eavesdropped as Mariah whispered to Angela in the hug. “If I don’t get a call from you by ten, I’m going to cause a nasty scene.”
Angela let out a soft huff of a laugh. “Thanks, Mom. I’ll talk to you later.”
They waved and Damien made sure to stay put until it was clear that her friends had safely made it inside. He felt the tension pull back even further as Angela looked at him with a pretty smirk. “Nightcap?” One word, two syllables, so easy and simple.
“My place or yours?”
“Preferably yours. My roommate’s going to be working the graveyard shift soon, so it wouldn’t be all that private.” She explained.
Despite his certainty in the moment, his usual nature felt the need to double his confirmation. “Are you sure? You’re not-”
“Damien, we both know I’m sober. I stopped drinking hours ago for a variety of reasons.”
He couldn’t deny that he felt flattered to realize that she’d been thinking about going home with him for the majority of the night. Damien nodded with an easy smirk before pulling out onto the road for the short drive to his place. The loud thumping of his heartbeat pounding in his ears was quickly drowned out by her soft voice whisper-singing along to the radio. He was still nervous, but the anxiety was instantly soothed by the comforting sound of her voice.
Once they finally reached his place and walked their way to the door, he hesitated after undoing the lock, looking down at her beautiful and calm smile.
“I should warn you that I pretty much never do this.” He admitted.
“Me either.” She offered with a shrug, smiling at his shy expression. “That’s half the fun; no strict etiquette to follow.” She easily reasoned, getting on her tiptoes, her movements gentle and hypnotic as she wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning in ever so slightly.
The moment Damien felt her nails tenderly dive into his hair, his restraint finally snapped as he quickly did away with those couple of pesky inches of distance separating their lips. The timidity had completely fled from him as he whisked the soft-lipped, charming woman inside and off to his bedroom. From the second his lips and hands were on her, everything just instinctually unfolded.
Damien had a total of two one-night stands in his 30+ years of life and neither time had it felt anything like this. There were no awkward pauses or moments of discomfort, just effortless chemistry and innate desire threading them together as they struggled with the patience to pull apart while they undressed each other with the most natural sense of flirtatious familiarity. Even so, the moment Damien realized just how truly phenomenal she felt and sounded; how damn incredible their labored breaths layered together and overlapped, he felt like a man possessed, desperate to summon the siren’s song of her melodic moans and perfectly pitched whimpers as he made love to this relative stranger.
It didn’t feel like something as definitive and simple as sex, it was– Angela was pulling sinfully sweet sensations from him, her touch both tender and intuitive as they entangled and enveloped one another. Damien was thrown back by the safe and earth-shaking intimacy of her impassioned embrace, once they were both utterly spent after two deliciously dizzying rounds.
She passed out before he did, and though Damien shuddered at the thought of being perceived as creepy, he couldn’t stop himself from watching her serene and stunning face for a few minutes as she slept.
Tonight was… (a miracle, a revelation, like a bump of ecstasy) … unprecedented. He really hoped this wouldn’t just be a life-changing one-night stand. Damien wanted to know this woman in more than merely the biblical sense; he longed to know her dreams, her fears, her likes and dislikes, her ideal breakfast, her relationship with her family and friends, defining moments of her childhood. He ached to know all of Angela; so, for the first time in his life, he sincerely prayed as he closed his eyes to sleep (to whom, he wasn’t quite sure) that he would get the chance. He couldn’t stomach the thought of not knowing her after this, of having her vanish like some heavenly vision he’d have no choice but to deem as some hysterically hallucinated angel crafted by his brokenhearted and lonely imagination.
When Damien awoke with the sunrise, he genuinely grinned to be met with her sweetly slumbering face. He still had a shot at adding to his first impression, so he gently extricated himself from her light-touched hold on him. He hurried into some clothes as silently as he could manage before he quietly hastened to the kitchen. He cringed when he looked at his bachelor-esque empty pantry and fridge. Well, that definitely wouldn’t do.
Damien slipped on his slippers and snagged his keys before rushing out the door. He practically tore through the store, dying to get back to Angela before she had a chance to wake.
When he returned nearly 45 minutes later, 2 bags of groceries in his hands, he stupidly thought his absence hadn’t been noticed. He unloaded his groceries before checking on his guest, only to find his bed empty and her clothes gone. Still, he hoped; that was until he realized that the bathroom was also empty. Angela had vanished.
“Fuck!” He exclaimed in frustration before defeatedly flopping back onto his bed.
Damien felt like he knew her, but he really didn’t. He didn’t know her socials, her phone number; hell, he didn’t even know her last name.
He spent that entire weekend cursing his impulsivity to not at least stop, think and get her goddamn number before she’d cast her spell over him. For months, he’d been wanting to organically meet someone. And then, he met someone incredible, sexy and funny and he moronically let her slip through his fingers.
On Monday, Shayne was able to immediately call out Damien’s downtrodden disposition, though clearly misunderstanding the reason. “Oh man, Damien, was the date really that bad?”
Damien sighed as he pushed around his lunch. “I got stood up.”
“Shit.” Shayne shook his head. “Don’t let it get you down. I know it took a lot to psych yourself to get back out there, but this kind of thing is super common with dating apps nowadays. I hope your night recovered.”
Damien loudly groaned before slamming his head into the table.
“Oof, that bad?”
“No. That good.” Damien practically cried into the table.
“What?” His oldest friend laughed in confusion.
Damien reluctantly lifted his head and sat back up. “I was barely bothered when Megan flaked. I actually hung-out at the place and met this trio of women. We did karaoke and danced and aggghhh…” He groaned again as he dropped his head into his hands.
“Dude… did you meet someone?” Shayne asked as somebody joined them.
“Shut up, Damien. Bud, you have to tell us.” He heard Court excitedly say as they sat next to their boyfriend.
Damien sighed as he reluctantly looked back at the pair. “I’m starting to think she was an angel made up by my imagination.” He huffed. “She was funny, beautiful, interesting, talented and just…” He took in a sharp breath, nearly lost in the reverie as he remembered their night together. “Wow. She was wow. I actually don’t know how else to say it. So, of course my dumb ass didn’t get any of her contact information. I didn’t even get her last name.” He grumbled. “I’m such a lost cause.”
Courtney sweetly grabbed his hand. “Don’t say that; no, you’re not. So, you fumbled a little with Ms. Wow, but I promise you, you’re going to find someone worthwhile when you’re meant to.”
Damien already had, but he’d tripped over his damn feet, with the finish line right in front of him. “Yeah, yeah. What’s meant to be and all of that.” He huffed with self-loathing, before offering her a grateful half-smile. “Thanks, you’re right. I just, I honestly can’t remember the last time I felt a spark like that. I-” He let go of Courtney’s hand as he grimaced at his plate. “I’m not hungry.” He flopped his head back on the table shamelessly stewing in his self-pity.
Even if he learned to put on a brave, unbothered face at work moving forward, his personal pity party continued for the next month and a half. He kept thinking about Angela, in the VO booth as he navigated accents for new characters, as he dyed the blue into purple, wondering if she’d like his new look, while he sipped on his club soda with lime on a few Smosh bar nights. The self-pity lingered until the second day of the next shoot-block.
Damien bumped into Amanda on their way to the all-hands meeting. “Damien, you weren’t here yesterday, were you?” He shook his head. “Oh great. I filmed the Dead Table Talks video yesterday with the newbies. They’re part-timers to start, but I already know Chanse’s friend is destined to be a channel regular. She’s hilarious, you’ll love her.”
Damien nodded in surprise as he fidgeted with the twisted strap of his black overalls. “I didn’t know Chanse had a friend that auditioned.” Amanda nodded. “So, she’s a natural?”
Amanda shook her head with a smile. “She’s undeniable. I’m telling you; this girl committed to the bit. She had me breaking so hard, I was nearly in tears.”
Damien eagerly smirked back. “I can’t wait to meet her. She in the TNTL today?”
“Yep; Ang will be there.” Amanda said with a nod before easily taking a seat as they entered the conference room. She couldn’t notice Damien frozen in place as his eyes landed on Angela, his Angela now with shorter hair, sitting at the far end of the conference room animatedly talking to Ian and Chanse.
Despite having proof that she actually existed for the first time in the past month and a half, Damien wasn’t necessarily relieved to finally see Angela – the woman he hadn’t stopped thinking about in countless weeks – chatting to his boss, her boss…their boss.
Goddammit; of course, she was his new colleague. It felt like divine tragedy to see her after desperately hoping he would, in the same split second it became clear that they were now going to have a professional working relationship. He defeatedly recalled their conversation about the cardinal rule of not dating costars and her insistent stance as she chided him for not knowing better, just as her eyes fell on him in instant recognition.