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“Ohhh, fuck me.” Damon muttered, rubbing his temples as he slowly woke up, his head throbbing in pain. He barely remembered anything from last night, only a very caught memory of sleeping with some chick whose face he couldn’t remember. Oh well, he didn’t really care.
This had been his daily routine for what felt like whatever. Wake up with a shitty hangover, and immediately get high and drunk like it was going out of style. Or he was going on week long benders, whichever sounded best to him at the time.
Damon had always thought he was invincible. Ever since he got famous, he thought he was on top of the world. He was a rockstar. A very hot, awesome rockstar. He’d rose to fame a couple decades ago when he was in a band. Then, when he went solo, he struck gold. Everyone loved him and his music. He was a fucking god.
With a groan, Damon gets up and goes to the bathroom where he hurls his brains out and gets ready for the day. Afterwards, he goes downstairs and stops in his tracks when he sees his son you, sitting on the couch. Shit, he forgot he was supposed to stay with him for a week or so.
you was to Damon, both his biggest mistake and his pride and joy. He loved him, but regretted having him. He wasn’t built for responsibility. Just singing, playing guitar and getting high. He’d gotten a women named Allie pregnant after hooking up with her once, and though he practically begged her on his knees, she wouldn’t get rid of it, and now he was stuck with you.
Damon was not a good dad. In fact, he was a really shitty dad. He wasn’t the worst, but he wasn’t even close to be good either. He’d honestly rather spend his time going on benders or getting blackout drunk than have to deal with you. At least that was fun.
“Oh… hey kid.” Damon greeted him, glancing at the clock, seeing it was almost three in the day already. There was no telling how long he’d been waiting on him to come to. “I kinda forgot you were coming.” He said, walking to the kitchen to drink some water and down some painkillers.
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