Are you my....father? (Damon)

[Emerson Blake Sullivan]

[style=font-family: times; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 1px; text-transform: lowercase; color: #989898; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;]662 WORDS FOR Damon Let me know if I need to fix anything. <3 First post with Emerson, woot! *dances* BELIEVE [/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #6d6d6d;] [style=padding: 10px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 10px; height: 475px; overflow: auto; color: #1e1e1e;]This isn't how I should have to live, Emerson thought to himself as he stood before the full length mirror which hung from the back of his bathroom door to check his outfit for the third time that morning. It wasn't that he was obsessed with his appearance by any means. If anything, the fifteen-year-old couldn't care less about how others viewed him and wished that he could just run out of the house like other guys his age did not ten minutes after jumping out of bed in whatever they'd managed to find lying on their bedroom floor. Of course, no one else he'd ever met had to deal with his...issue. The doctors had proclaimed his reaction to the natural daylight as a new type of skin condition in which his skin cells practically burned if they were exposed to the sun for more than a few short minutes but Emerson knew better. He was a freak, nothing more or less. Not only did he have to use prescription sunblock and wear sunglasses if he even wanted to step foot outside before sunset but there were others things...things he'd never told another living soul. He was different, he just wished he knew why. After taking a final look at the outfit he'd chosen as the weatherman had predicted that there would be plenty of sunshine in the forecast for today, Emerson let out a sigh which implied a mixture of annoyance and irritation at the whole scenario. Still, he'd managed to cover all but his head and hands which would have to be good enough as there was no way in hell he was about to wear a pair of gloves outside in the middle of summer. A baseball cap might help with my head though, he thought to himself as he shut off the bathroom light and headed back to his room; determined not to let his dad keep him locked inside the house on a Saturday when he was sure that there would be some kind of party going on later that he might be able to crash. The last thing I need is Dad driving me to the hospital because my head's suffering from second degree burns. He already tells me I'm too careless with my condition. Grabbing an old Bears cap his mom had gotten him a few years back, he pulled it onto his head with practiced ease before heading out of his room and downstairs as quickly as his feet could carry him - his plans being to escape before he was seen. Catching sight of his dad moving around in the kitchen, Emerson figured he might say something instead of leaving without a word. "Dad, I'm heading out for a bit but I'll be back in by curfew. Don't wait up." Not bothering to wait for a response, the rebellious teenager scurried out the front door quickly and shut it before grabbing his bike off the front porch and wheeling it down onto the ground; taking care to close the screen behind him. Jumping on with a skill that only came with years of riding, he took off towards the Mystic Grill as a burger craving came over him like never before. Hopefully they'll keep it relatively bloody if I order it rare like last time. That has to be the best burger I've ever had. Making it to the town's main restaurant in record time, he jumped off and wheeled his 21 speed over to the nearest light pole where he locked it up as securely as one could with a thick metal chain and padlock as he far preferred it to new bike locks that most stores sold. Ready to pack it away, he headed inside - praying that there might be an open table right off the bat as his age and younger looks made it quite a bit harder for him to get a seat at the bar. [/style]

TABLE BY CALIFORNIA DREAMING @ CAUTION 2.0

[Damon Salvatore]

There wasn't enough for this vampire to keep himself occupied with. Damon tapped his fingers against the wood of the bar counter, beating a rhythm into it. It was some famous pop song that he couldn't quite seem to get out of his head, even if he couldn't remember the name of it at this time. Was it by the girl who had a dollar song in her stage name? Although Damon supposed it didn't matter at all, considering it just seemed to be annoying everyone, not making him any friends.

Not that making friends was what he intended to do at all.

He was waiting on Klaus, and to be honest he was starting to get frustrated. Klaus hadn't even been doing anything useful with Damon's allegiance at all. It was almost like he was just being used for cargo. Extra baggage on the plane. Damon had taken to devising ways that he could sabotage Klaus's plans, even if he didn't put them into effect for fear of his life.

Although, he didn't have much of a life goal anymore with Stefan dead and Elena off mourning him instead of paying attention to the handsome brother.

Damon looked over at the door when he heard a twinkling sound. Standing outside of it, looking incredibly nervous,(as if his rapid heartbeat wasn't enough of a clue) was a kid, coated in a sheen of sunblock and wearing protective sunglasses. He was obviously underage, but Damon saw this as an opportunity to entertain himself while Klaus was gone.

He could tell the bouncer was already onto the kid (even though he was probably going to go for a table, not a bar seat), so Damon decided he might as well be a savior and let the kid in without trouble. There wasn't anything wrong with getting used to the burn of alcohol at a young age. Damon was comfortable around the substance, but the fear in today's generation was what caused alcoholism in the first place.

"Hey, Greg?" Damon called to the bouncer, who was looking ready to try and card him.

Even though he never carded Elena and her friends, but those teenagers were closer to twenty one than the scrawny little kid standing in the doorway looking like he was going to wet himself.

"Let the kid in and I'll buy him a drink," Damon compelled him, tilting his head to the side and keeping direct eye contact on his target.

Oh poor Greg. Damon couldn't deny it. The bouncer was more muscle than brain and it didn't take much to force his own will onto the monster of a man.

When the kid didn't wander over, Damon beckoned him over and ordered another shot from the bartender, who didn't put up a fuss about it. Good for him. He would compel the entire bar if he had to in order to entire himself for a night.

Unceremoniously, Damon slid the shot glass over to Emerson with two fingers before downing the concoction that he had ordered for himself.

"What, no thanks? I just let you get everything your little childish heart desires. Drink up."

[/blockquote][/blockquote]