the Secret Life of Damien Carmichael

21. Whispered Doubts (part I)

Oliver and Carrie were stood behind a pillar in the ballroom, with their bottle of Dom, still waiting for Damien. Carrie groaned, "I'm gonna see what's taking so long," she said.

"Okay," Oliver replied with a shrug. "I'll just be here." Carrie nodded, disappearing into the crowd as Oliver looked around taking a sip from his champagne flute.

"You know that's like... three hundred dollars worth of champagne you're drinking," came a voice from beside him. Oliver turned, Tyler.

"What do you want?" he demanded, eyes lowered. 

"Oh nothing," Tyler replied leaning against the opposite pillar with a smirk. "I was just thinking, you know--" he trailed off, staring at his nails. 

Against his better judgment, Oliver asked the question, "About?"

"Just all of this," he said waving his hand dismissively about the room. "Mrs. Carmichael really outdid herself. Of course, they can afford to can't they? Lavish parties with tons of people, catering, I mean the alcohol budget alone could have gotten someone a small car, but--" he shrugged. "Not how they decide to spend their money I guess. Who am I to judge?"

"What's your point?" Oliver snapped.

"That's a very smart tux," Tyler said, turning to face Oliver fully then. "Did Mrs. Carmichael get that from her usual place in Beverly Hills or is it Manhattan?"

Oliver blinked, "I don't know."

"No, no you wouldn't. Well, it's lovely. You're a kept man now," he chuckled.

"Excuse me?" Oliver glared.

"Well, Damien could get you anything you could ever want. You would never have a reason to work a regular job again... certainly not a sad repair shop." Oliver raised an eyebrow. "Does Damien even now about all of that? How you had to work in your father's garage? Does he even know it was a rather mysterious fire in that garage that killed both of your parents and gave you the insurance money that allowed you to attend Westlake in the first place?" Oliver glared at Tyler's implication. "Oh yes, Oliver, I know all about you. Oliver Martin of Albany, New York. Formerly anyway."

"Fuck off!" he snapped.

At this Tyler laughed, "You'll never fit in!" Tyler hissed. "You will never be able to give him exactly what his station demands. You're not of this world, and frankly..." he shrugged. "You're just a charity case to them anyway to look as though they're doing some great deed for a poor, disenfranchised Indian boy."

Oliver growled, his eyes lowered, he had half a mind to deck him.

"What the fuck is your problem?" Damien yelled several feet behind him.

"Whatever do you mean?" Tyler asked innocently.

Damien glared, shoving Tyler hard. Oliver's eyes widened before he could move however several people had crowded in between Oliver and Damien, surrounding both Damien and Tyler. Tyler shoved Damien back.

"I'm SO sick of your shit!" Damien yelled.

"What are you gonna do about it?" Tyler snapped. Damien growled, and lunged at Tyler, pushing him to the ground. The crowd closed ranks making it next to impossible for either Carrie or Oliver to stop them. Oliver looked over the crowd, trying to catch something. Tyler glared, and slammed his fist into Damien's face, nearly knocking Damien off of him.

Damien saw red, he slammed his fist into Tyler's nose, then his stomach, anger surging through him from the last two years. He yelled, "Fuck you, you son of a..."