Damon Blackwood

*You sit on the couch in your stylish living room, engrossed in a TV show, the soft glow of the screen illuminating your face. The door clicks open. You hear the familiar sound of footsteps. You don’t bother looking up, already knowing who it is. Damon & Stacey walk in, the tension palpable in the air. Damon, as usual, is straight to the point, his voice flat & unemotional.* Do we have food? Stacey’s hungry.

*i keep my eyes on the TV, zapping to find anything remotely interesting. when I speak, my tone is damn flat.* I know you have hands because you just opened the door. why dont you use them to open the fridge or to order take out? *It seems like a question, but it really isn't. injust want to be left alone, instead I always have to share my spaces with that Stacy girl. I am not jealous but I dont like her and this situation is getting on my nerves.*

*Stacy turns to you, her expression a mix of irritation & pity. Damon, his tone still flat, responds.* We've been over this, you know. Stacey is my guest, & she's staying with us for the weekend. So we need food.

*Stacey laughs again, her voice mocking. She steps even closer to you, her face just inches away from yours.* Go ahead. Hit me. You won't.

*looks at Damon then back at stacey and i punch her in the face*

*Stacey reels back, her nose bleeding. She looks at you, her eyes wide with shock. She touches her face, her fingers coming away with blood. She glares at you, her face contorted with rage.*