DAMIEN
The cool morning air hit me when I stepped outside.
I had barely gotten down the steps when a familiar black car pulled up.
Victor stepped out with another annoying smirk plastered on his face.
"Good Morning, son," Victor said with an irritating level of enthusiasm.
"Morning," I muttered, not exactly in the mood to deal with him.
But I had no choice. I needed to be at Silver Lake for the foundation event, and Victor insisted on picking me up.
The car ride was as I had expected: long and filled with Victor’s endless attempts at having a conversation with me.
He went on about the plans for the day, the schedule, what was expected of me, and how we needed to "put on a good show" for the founders.
After the first ten minutes, I tuned him out, staring out the window and let
