Chapter Text
With a reputation as golden as his brother's, people simply can't ignore Damian Desmond's presence and whatever hot gossip that goes on involving him. The younger scion keeps very few companions close by yet is still social enough for other students to be interested in his status. Everyone minds their own business but no one can truly get out of his gravity.
Superficially, everyone is aware of his inhumane ability to collect stellas through academics and sports. They know him as the epitome of what an Imperial Scholar should be. The best of the best. His cold yet surprisingly righteous personality is what makes others feel his superiority. Others see him as a spoiled brat but they still can't deny his distinguished class that only improves as time goes by. And of course, his family's status and whereabouts are recurring topics when he is mentioned. The Desmond family's reputation is esteemed as ever even when years has passed since his father stepped down from being the prime minister.
The following is what is found just below the tip of the Damian Desmond iceberg. The boy didn't have a circle of friends, but had two companions that were with him since the beginning. They follow him around like they're his servants, always shouting orders at themselves like they already know what the scion was going to tell them. As they approached adolescence, a rumor has been going around that one of the two were getting sick of being bossed around by Damian. However, no one could find concrete proof as they always seem to be content of being slightly behind the brunette while walking down Eden's halls.
Going deeper, more rumors have been going around about who Damian Desmond could be romantically interested in. A majority of the rumors were baseless accusations, mostly involving girls who are interested in him. Their friends, or themselves, haphazardly go about telling people that the scion likes them because his gaze landed on them for half a second. There are multiple feuds between classmates and even between classes about this certain topic. Although Eden seemed peaceful on the surface, the school is scattered with around three to five young girls at each other's throats trying to win the scion's heart. All while said scion is unaware of what was happening. The number of girls fighting each other would be way more if the population were selfish and cold-hearted. Most just keep their feelings hidden, just hoping they could get a chance with the boy.
However, a select few know deep down that they will never get a chance. No one knew at first. Damian did, but didn't want to admit it. His early years in Eden just consisted of him in an absolute frenzy just trying to understand and suppress his feelings. It went on for a while until his companions started noticing his erratic behavior. They noticed it from the start, but couldn't exactly piece together the reason why he was acting that way. They had a long conversation and days of preparation to ask him one question. It almost got one of them accidentally punched in the face for even suggesting it, but they finally asked: "Do you like her?".
Damian Desmond wanted a hole to spawn in the floor and take him. He was trying so hard to hide it, but the moment people started to notice, it was over. Upon his request, the boys tried convincing themselves that he did not like her at all. It was all just a misunderstanding. She constantly was just messing around him so it was natural for him to think about her all the time. Each moment he was flustered was just him simply being embarrassed of whatever she said to him out of pocket. She didn't have an effect on him like that, she did it to everyone. His feelings could go away with time.
This went on for almost a year until Damian Desmond eventually couldn't deny what was happening. He still hated it but he couldn't lie to himself anymore. At times she wasn't acting like a complete lunatic, she's unbelievably sweet. She never hesitated to get him out of trouble even if it cost her a bolt. She always seemed to know what things to say whenever he felt neglected by his family. Even if she did have a few loose screws, he finds her endearing anyway. The success of his denial was a lost cause.
Instead, he entered the era of being delusional.
"Guys, what if she likes me back?"
The two blonds already supported his decision of accepting his feelings, but they had worry looming over them about this one. They couldn't explain why, but something told them that it wasn't a good idea to push this narrative. Either way, it was always refreshing to see their friend being so focused on something other than academics. He seemed like he was gonna bite their head off every time they teased or just looked at him funny when she was involved. But every time he wasn't like that, he's absolutely smitten. The tight knot in his brain caused by school and his family gets beautifully untangled and it shows. The scion becomes gentle and tamed. They brainstormed day and night about some ways he can confess and win her heart.
They were being as discreet as they possibly can. Sixth grade rolled in and he finally popped the words.
Was it successful? Who knows. It was only supposed to be them who knew about it, but that number slowly increased when a few straggled words that never meant to come out made its way to other students. Even if these students were tight-lipped, those who were observant didn't miss Damian Desmond's behavior over the next few years after his decision.
It started with him being quiet. He was a regular participant during class, now he barely utters a word unless asked by a teacher. He butts into conversations to give snarky comments but now it seems like he can't even hear anyone because of his closed-off world. The slight angle on his brows was no longer there. What was once a resting scowl face was replaced by a perpetually blank one. Always staring off to nowhere.
The first time everyone noticed was during PE class and an almost uneventful basketball lesson. He was standing off to the side because he finished his turn practicing shooting and he was spacing out. His eyes directed to nothingness and his entire body stood still like a mannequin. No one except his two best friends paid him any mind until an unsuspecting ball made its way to leave a red mark on his face.
"Damian, watch out!" His classmates warned him, but he was too absorbed into his own thoughts to hear anyone. A loud 'bonk' echoed through the gym followed by a deafening silence. Everyone was sure to get an earful from him about who in the world managed to hit his face spot on without scoring a single shot on the ring (he won't know nor care if the person did actually score).
"A-Are you okay, Damian?" Emile dared to speak up first. Although Damian wouldn't truly be mad at him if he was the perpetrator, he was still scared of lighting the fuse.
"I-I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it– I swear–!" Meanwhile, their male classmate who threw the ball was pissing their pants but somehow got the courage to admit and apologize.
He was already bracing for whatever foul words that were gonna come out of Damian's mouth. He watched as the latter rubbed his face out of pain and seemingly snapped out of his trance. Damian blinked a few times to fully process what just happened to him and he locked eyes with his classmate. The boy's soul wanted to escape.
But instead of the usual flurry of insults, the scion simply said with a low voice, "Uh, it's fine. Don't worry about it."
The class was split between two theories. It was either Damian Desmond was abducted by aliens and has been replaced, or the ball hit him too hard that his personality did a 180. Regardless, it was unsettling. In the past, any ordinary student would look at him once and be intimidated by his vibe. When looking at him now, they would somehow feel concern and curiosity about what was happening in his life. There didn't seem to be anything going on in his family. His grades were stellar as ever, so there shouldn't be any other important thing in his life that he is pondering about. Right?
This has been the norm for at least another year before it shifted again. He became vocal as he was before, but not like a snotty brat who will burst into an outrage when you accidentally step on his foot. As he grew taller among his peers, his gaze angled lower, looking down at them all. And like it is insinuated, he figuratively looked down on them as well. The less his voice cracked during puberty, the more his words stung as cold venom dripped with each syllable. It wasn't the younger Desmond where he was just a kid babbling nonsense insults. This time, he opened his mouth when it mattered, and it always cut deep.
For instance, he overheard an underclassman of his being ridiculed by her two classmates. Damian was sitting by the window in the library while he hears them chatting away without a care in the world. He could usually tune out loud voices when he's studying, but he couldn't avoid having his attention divided.
"Seriously, which salon did you go to? Those layers look so bad." One of the girls teased.
The other girl she was with did an overly forced giggle to make fun of their victim, "That's so mean!"
For the last five minutes, all he could hear was passive-aggressive insults that escalated to them being blunt about it. He could easily ignore situations like these, but somehow the girls couldn’t lower their voices in a library even if they tried. He had been reading the same sentence in his textbook over and over again but their voices were worming into his ears so much that he couldn't comprehend a word.
"Is it really that bad?" The scion heard the poor young girl mumble.
"It's passable if only it wasn't matched with your face."
“But you guys said this type of hairstyle would look great.”
"Just because it looked good on a celebrity doesn't mean it'll look good on you too."
“It’s actually atrocious. You have to change it.”
“Don’t you literally have the same haircut?” He heard his own voice interrupting their chatter. Before he could really think about it, he let his temper get the best of him and decided to do something about the noise.
“Desmond–?” The girls looked to his table just a few feet away from them. They shook in place as his gaze sharpened.
His eyes darted between the girl they were bullying and the girl who said she didn’t look good in the hairstyle to see that not a single hair strand differs from each other.
“Your hair literally looks the same.” His voice was low yet exuded firmness that they could almost feel. He uttered a simple sentence yet they felt like sinking into the floor. Every time Damian Desmond opens his mouth, his target’s self-esteem shrinks to the size of a pathetically discarded chewing gum. Anyone who wasn’t the target would die of second-hand shame.
“It is, but–”
“But what? You ‘have a different face shape’? That may make a difference but it doesn’t make you look more like a celebrity if you don’t shut up.” Their expressions fell. He went back to burying his nose into his textbook when two of the students scurried off with their egos shattered. They most likely heard worse things in their life but it’s so much worse when he says it.
At that moment, the other young girl felt elated to be defended by someone like Damian. Her mind was definitely filled with delusions that someone as cold as him was kind enough to step up for her. And for her only. What reasons could he have to do that just for her? She had no time to waste so she had to shoot her shot.
"D-Desmond– Thank you so much. How could I ever repay you?" At the corner of his eye, he saw her clasp her hands together above her chest with hope.
"Don't."
"Oh, but I want to! Maybe you want me to buy you desserts? Or I can treat you to lunch. Or I'll really think of something else that you'll like!" His eyebrows furrowed at the sheer confidence that somehow possessed her. He looked her in the eye to examine her and had a wave of recognition.
She was one of the underclassmen who had the guts to confess her feelings to him. Even after he rejected her, she had this persistence that was borderline creepy. He wouldn’t have noticed her following him in his free time if Ewen and Emile didn’t point it out.
"Why don't you use your time to think about your grades? Aren't you half-way through expulsion?" As if his glare couldn’t get any sharper, he managed to scare off even the most die-hard Desmond admirer.
"R-Right.." He barely heard her say as she quickly slid off to nowhere.
It doesn’t happen too often, but the scion regularly rejects confessions more than he’d like. For as someone as conceited as he is, one would think he would like the attention that he’s getting. However, it couldn’t be further from the truth. Besides seeking his entire family’s attention, there’s only one person he wants to be seen by. Each time he craves being noticed by her, he becomes repulsed by himself for even thinking about it. He looped back to the start where he rejected the idea of even liking her. He thought he would be more indifferent as time went by but his mind never fails to go against whatever he plans to do.
In tenth grade, he started going insane. It's quite the exaggeration, but to Eden's etiquette standards, it was almost like going insane. Especially when he started crashing out in the middle of a midterm exam.
Every time he tried recalling the lesson he studied for weeks, the memory of her bumping into him this morning kept intervening. The image of her looking up and innocently apologizing burned into the back of his head. He hasn’t seen her that close ever since that day. She hasn’t changed besides being more gorgeous than she already was. Her hair grew longer, then curled and faded to a more blonde color at the ends. Her features were still cute as ever but had a charming beauty added with a little age. And just like always, her big emerald eyes enraptured him. He can’t get enough of it.
Being enveloped in warmth and fuzziness whenever he thought about her was something he never thought he missed until now. He found himself diving head first into lost pleasant memories he had with her and some that he came up with himself. He was about to succumb in the endless sea of fantasies but remembered that he was literally in the middle of an exam. Like taking a gasp of breath underwater, he snapped awake into a mini frenzy. Adrenaline surged into his veins which caused him to tremble slightly. Cold air entered his pipes and he felt the need to get back and finish his task. He needed to get back into the right zone.
He abruptly dropped his pencil to his desk when he ran both his hands through his hair, completely ruining the effortless curls. He pulled at the roots and he inhaled sharply through his teeth. His eyes were about to pop out of its sockets when he eyed his test paper like it was the bane of his existence. His body moved frantically as he was about to slam his forehead on the desk when he realized mid-slamming that he probably shouldn't be so noisy during exams if he didn't want a Tonitrus bolt. Instead, he hit his head multiple times with his palms. It was still loud enough for almost everyone to stare at him like he was an absolute madman.
At first, it was worthy of a 'what the hell is this guy's problem?' reaction. But when they realized that it was Imperial Scholar, top student, almost thirty Stellas, Damian Desmond, they were doomed.
'If he's having a hard time during the test, what hope do I have?!' was what the majority of his classmates were thinking at that point. It's a total silent disaster. Lightning will surely strike in broad daylight once exam results come out.
He reread the problem he was currently solving. He tried so hard just focusing on the numbers and letters that he memorized only for them to be jumbled in pink and green. He shook his head to get it out of his mind but it persisted.
If it wasn’t a vision, it was a sensation. He clearly remembers the contact he felt when her entire body clashed with his. He could still feel her face planting onto his chest and he definitely didn’t miss the way she pressed her palms against him to push herself away. They were in that proximity for only half a second but the ghost of that touch didn’t want to leave his side.
If it wasn’t a sensation, it was a scent. He swore her scent lingered even during that exam and it drove him crazy. He could smell that irresistible floral scent she wore. He doesn’t know if she’s wearing a really high quality perfume that lasts a long time or he just has a sensitive nose that he could still smell traces of it. That or he’s genuinely crazy enough that even his nose is convinced that her aroma is stuck to his uniform just from that one contact. It invaded his senses and clouded his rationality. He became desperate to ignore it, also but feels the same desperation to find it once it slowly faded away. He felt like the biggest idiot trying to lower his head and sniff his chest region. It came to the point where he had to attempt to physically get it out of his system.
He let out an exasperated sigh as he tried to ever so gently (but fail to) lay his head on his desk, covering it with his arms. The teacher also witnessed that whole ordeal and he felt the need to walk up to him and ask.
"Is there something wrong, Desmond?"
No response, except for a measly shake of his head.
"Is the test too hard for you?"
The boy slowly turned to look at his teacher. The adult could've sworn a shiver went down his spine when he was met with the most offended look on Damian's face. He let out yet another tired breath and sat up straight. With a begrudging snatch of his pencil, he hastily scribbled on the last few terms of the equation he was working on. He took the test paper and handed it to his teacher.
"I'm done." He clumsily gathered his stationery and left without sparing a glance while witnesses stayed stunned.
There's still thirty minutes left for the exam and he's already gone. Getting her out of his head was more of a concern than the entire exam period.
On any other day, he desperately tried hiding his struggle. It worked most of the time, but his condition wasn't getting any better. No matter what he tries to do, his mind always goes back to the same person.
Whenever he walks to campus, he is reminded of her each time he passes by the pink carnations planted on the sidewalk. He sees her at the bus stop, greeting her best friend. When his eyes betray him and his gaze lingers for just a second longer on her, he sometimes catches a glimpse of her looking back at him with those thoughtful emerald eyes. He winces. He looks away and he doesn't ever know if she continues staring at him.
This interaction will bug him for the rest of the day. He spends his time trying to look for ways to distract himself since studying somehow wasn't enough to get his mind off of her. He opened his language textbook to read a short story for an assignment and one of the characters' names was similar to hers. Art class had a discussion about patterns and he was reminded of the gold design of her iconic hair clips. The cafeteria even had a special dish that had peanuts on it.
He was spiraling. The more he tried convincing himself to just forget about her, the more it didn't work.
What did she do exactly?
At first, she punched him. Next, she pestered him every single day until around third grade. Then, she just existed. Lastly, sixth grade rolled in. He blamed her for it when it happened. But he slowly started thinking that he shouldn't have been honest to himself if he really didn't want things to turn out this way. If he hadn't verbalized his feelings, he wouldn't have gone into this agonizingly endless ordeal.
Regretting everything he did was an understatement. He still folded an infinite amount of times every time he looked back at the moment. Or any moment before that when he was convinced that everything would turn out fine if he pulled through with his plan. He didn't know what kind of demon coerced him into facing her that day. Now, he faces the consequence of his trampled pride for all eternity. Not getting what he wanted was certainly something he should be getting used to.
His worst nights consisted of his mind betraying him by recalling every detail of that day.
"You... like me?"
"Yes, that's what I just said."
The memory replayed like an old broken record player. Repetitive, and it stings the ears.
He remembered her being all confused. He thought she just didn't believe him, but she genuinely looked puzzled as to how he even developed feelings for her. That confusion soon turned to what seemed like fear. A reaction not usually done when being confessed to. He couldn’t think of a single reason why she would be afraid of being liked by someone.
She asked dumb questions after that. She demanded him to be so sure of what he was saying. She either didn’t believe him or she was convincing him to not like her. He kept asking her and she kept giving out excuses that didn’t quite answer his questions. He was frustrated at first but he soon realized that this might be her way of rejecting him.
Was I wrong? Does she really not like me?
And as if something had given her the words she needed to say, she said, “I don’t like you. A-And I think it would be better if you didn’t like me too.”
Everything else after that became a blur. Those last few words of hers were still clear as day in his memories. It had been years since it happened, but he still couldn’t figure out why she didn’t want him to harbor feelings for her.
Part of him would have accepted if she just told him she didn’t like him. She hasn’t shown any particular interest in him lately and it would make sense. He just couldn’t stomach the fact that she basically urged him to stop liking her. Did she hate the idea that much? Were his feelings totally invalid?
There had to be a better reason.