Up top is Character Inspo for Damien Asher, but not exactly him. I couldn't find anyone that fit him completely. Enjoy my new story.

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I smiled at the painting along the brick wall, the fumes from the spray paint hitting my nose. I pulled my hood up and zipped it to cover my nose and mouth, protecting me from becoming lightheaded. I grinned as I finished, taking a step back to eye my creation.

Just as I finish looking at it bright red and blue lights flash, making my eyes widen as the sound of the siren cuts through the air. I drop my paint cans and run the length of the school to the back parking lot, hoping to it through it into the woods and lose the cops.

I see a black mustang in the center, completely forgotten and abandoned. I ran to it and found the door unlocked and the keys in the passenger side, my eyes closing momentarily at my sheer luck.

"Thank you Jesus and his friends." I mutter as I climb in and start the engine, gunning it as soon as I shift into drive. I drive out of the parking lot with the flashing lights behind me closing in, the tires skidding as I rounded a corner faster than I probably shove have. I looked through the rear view mirror at the flashing lights, watching as they lit up my eyes. I forgot to wear contacts tonight, so my real eyes showed through, which was a dead giveaway to who I was.

One green eyes, one golden brown.

"WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK!?" I spun around to find dark eyes and an Italian accent greeting at me, my eyes widening even more when more lights flashed behind me than before.

"Okay hold on and shut up!" I shouted as I took another sharp turn, sending him flying against the side of the car with a groan of pain. I burst through the woods onto a dirt path, taking several more sharp turns before nestling the car in between two big maple trees. I breathed a sigh of relief when I didn't hear or see any sirens, my eyes trained on the air outdoors.

My muscles stiffened when I heard the familiar cocking of a gun, my eyes looking through the rear view mirror to find a black gun pointing the back of my head. I suddenly realize who's sitting behind me, who's car I just fucking stole.

Damien Asher. Valley High's residential bad boy and rumored gang leader.

Who's holding a gun to my head.

"Who the fuck are you and why did you just fucking kidnap me!?" I gave him a small grin, his jaw clenching even more when he sees it.

"Look, I didn't mean to kidnap you or whatever, but cops were running after me and your car was open and — why the hell were you sleeping in the back of your car with it unlocked?!" He pressed the gun closer to my head, causing my eyes to roll.

Probably not my better judgement, but whatever.

"Who the hell are you working for? What gang sent you, huh?" I scrunched my face at him, rolling my eyes before reaching into the back of my pants. In the gap between my belt and my back I kept a small gun, gripping it before whipping it out and pointing it straight at him.

"I'm not working for any gangs you dumbass, did you not hear me? Come tomorrow morning you'll see my fucking graffiti on the schools walls, now if you don't mind."

I started up the car again and drove while his gun was still pressed to me, his eyes boring holes into my skin. I turned the radio on and hummed to Lithium by Nirvana, my fingers tapping on the steering wheel.

I pulled up to my house and looked back to him, his eyes wide and his mouth agape. "Who the fuck are you?"

I quickly got out and shut the door, sending him a wink as I made my way to my house. I shut the door behind me, breathing out a very long breath. I shut my eyes as I tried to listen in the house, searching for my mom.

My dad was dead for five years, and it seems like my mother dies with him. She became a cold drunk that could barely stand to look at me, resorting to physical pain multiple times, but it wasn't as bad as it could've been. Others have it worse, that's honestly what keeps me here.

That and the fact my mom drinks constantly. She can barely get out of her bed, so I have to pay the bills. I hack into computers for private parties and use the money from my jobs to pay things like our mortgage and electric bill. As much as I hate my mom, she needs me, and I promised my dad to take care of her.

My dad was a wonderful man, a hacker just like me. Problem was, he made to many enemies with the work he did for gangs. It eventually caught u too him, causing them to capture all of us. They tortured my mom and I in front of him before blowing his brains out right in front of us. I can't stand gangs now, and only keep the weapons I keep for protection.

I creep up my stairs as I let the facade I keep up all day fall. My eyes become cold and my body grows numb, my eyes wandering around my bare hallways. I act out because I want attention, as cliche as that sounds. Maybe if I do something wild enough my mom will snap out of her trance, and show me something.

That's a another reason I really don't mind it when she snaps. It's only ever her hands, or the occasional wooden spoon. She's used a belt twice, but that wasn't my favorite. When she hits me or yells at me, at least she has emotions. She barely talks these days, and when she does it's to scold me or telling me to go get her a bottle of her favorite whiskey.

I climb into my shower after I stripped my clothes, my tattoos sharp against my pale skin. I keep them covered constantly, not wanting to draw more attention to me than I do already. I don't want attention from anyone but her, and it seems as if that's impossible.

My bed is practically calling me from my bathroom, yelling and shouting for me to go to bed. It's almost 3 am when I crash into my soft mattress, my dark hair spilling around me. I sigh into the new mattress I had just bought, snuggling in as the night raced through my mind. I kept thinking of Damien Asher, and his dark eyes. Why he didn't shoot me I'm not really sure, but I guess I'm glad he didn't.

I want to see those eyes again.

***