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"They stashed me away from kindergarten on. Only saw them a few weeks each summer when they couldn't pawn me off somewhere else." I forced a humorless chuckle. "Guess that's the price of having wealthy but negligent parents."
Andrea's hand extended towards me, her eyes brimming with empathy. "I'm sorry you went through that."
I shrugged, trying to brush off the a pang of loneliness. "It is what it is."
I give Andrea's hand a gentle squeeze. She returns a faint smile. "If things were that bad, why didn't you go live with your grandma?"
"They stuck her in a nursing home once she hit a certain age. After that, I wasn't allowed to see her." I pause, the memories resurfacing. "When my grandmother passed away, all alone and forgotten, I decided I wanted nothing to do with my parents anymore. I moved out at fourteen and have been on my own ever since."
Andrea's eyes glisten with sorrow. "Damien, that's horrible."
Shaking my head, I dismiss her pity. "It's not as bad as what you've been through."
"My mom was a mess, but at least she was around sometimes." She exhales heavily. "Even if it wasn't much."
"My parents were never there. Not once." I give her hand another reassuring squeeze. "But I don't need them. I'm better off."
She regards me with a solemn expression, almost as if she pities my fate more than her own nightmarish upbringing.
No one should be left to survive alone like that, beholden to the whims of a completely unknown man.
As if this conversation had tempted fate, the apartment door opens, and footsteps can be heard down the hallway.
"What the fuck...?" I whisper.
"Oh, this won't be good."
Andrea's complexion has gone pale. She quickly gets to her feet, just as her manager enters the kitchen.
Brandon's demeanor shifts in an instant, his once-kind expression contorting into a mask of fury. His cheeks redden, and his mustache quivers, dancing above his tense lip.
"What is he doing here?"
His dismissive reference to me wipes out my already thin patience.
With a resolute stride, I advance until I'm planted between him and Andrea, my gaze boring into Brandon as if he's an unwanted pest I'm itching to crush.
"Seeing Andrea."
The words hang in the air, taunting him. Brandon's face flushes crimson, his mustache twitching with barely contained rage. I stare him down, unblinking, daring him to make the next move.
Silence stretches thick between us. The truth is, Andrea and I haven't put a label on..._this_.
But the way my pulse thrums and my skin tingles, whenever she's near, tells me it's more than just physical. I'm already in too deep to turn back now, no matter how dangerous the game.
"What does this mean?"
Brandon's face shifts from crimson to purple from anger as Andrea stands up, stepping between the two of us trying to calm the situation.
"What's going on is..."
"Andrea and I are together," I finish for her, placing my arm around her shoulders. She looks at me with her mouth open in shock.
Me in my boxers and her wearing only my dress shirt only highlights my point. "And I won't tolerate you talking to her that way."
Brandon seems to puff up like a blowfish.
"Drea..." he starts to say.
