Damon finished looking through his phone with a smile still on his face.
Being the talk on everyone's lips, even if some of the talk was negative, felt strange and fulfilling at the same time.
His name was out there, and that alone was something he couldn't help but be proud of.
He stood up, realizing that his current clothes were worn out from all the traveling.
Quickly, he changed into a fresh set, savoring the comfort of clean fabric.
As he glanced into the wardrobe, he saw the clothes he went with to the show were here, Victor must've already arranged to have his clothes from The Supreme Fighter house brought back here.
"Damon," Aoife called out from the kitchen.
Damon got out of bed. He got up and walked towards the kitchen
When he entered the kitchen, he paused for a moment, surprised to see his mom dressed in formal clothes.
Her hair was styled nicely, and she was wearing professional clothes and shoes with low heels.
He raised an eyebrow and thought to himself, "When did she have time to change?" That's when Aoife turned around. She smiled, but Damon could tell her eyes were tense.
"Damon, your food is on the table," she said, gesturing to the breakfast she'd prepared. "I'm heading out for a bit, I have a job interview. Hopefully, this one will be good."
She let out a soft sigh, and her face showed a mix of hope and nerves. She quickly covered it with a determined smile.
Damon saw how hard she was trying to stay upbeat, and he felt proud of her. He walked up to her and put his hand on her shoulder to make her feel better.
He told her, "I'm sure it will work out, Mom." His voice was strong and full of hope.
Aoife's eyes softened, and she patted his hand gently, drawing strength from his words. Damon took a moment to glance at the clock, which read 10 a.m.
He did a quick mental calculation, the plane had taken off at 7 a.m., and even though the flight time and time zone change made it feel confusing, he knew they had flown for about three hours.
The day was only just starting, but already, so much was happening.
Aoife chuckled, her smile warming the room. "Okay, I'll be right back, alright?" she said, her voice lightening with Damon's support.
As he stared at it, his mind wandered to the future. A car... he thought.
That would be a great thing to buy. He liked the thought of having his own wheels to get around, especially in a big place like Los Angeles.
He chuckled to himself at the thought, amused by his own eagerness to spend money he hadn't quite made yet.
The laugh was soft but real. It was a light moment that stood in contrast to his serious goals.
A man walking past shot him a strange look, eyebrows raised as if wondering what was so funny.
Damon noticed and quickly straightened up, offering a sheepish smile in return.
Shaking it off, he took a deep breath and stepped forward.
Pushing the door open, Damon was instantly enveloped by the familiar sounds of the gym.
The loud thuds of fists and feet hitting punching bags filled the large room, broken up by the sharp grunts of warriors giving it their all.
The air smelled like sweat, and you could hear the weights clanging and the teachers yelling at their trainees.
He scanned the room, taking it all in.
Fighters moved across the mats, sparring with intensity, while others worked on drills and conditioning.
He looked around, scanning the gym for familiar faces.
He knew his friends wouldn't be here; after all, they'd all just gotten off a long flight and were likely catching up on rest or handling their own affairs.
As he surveyed the gym, his eyes landed on someone who looked vaguely familiar.
Damon squinted, trying to place the face, and then it hit him.
Right, he remembered.
Svetlana had mentioned something before, there was a new guy training at the gym, someone Victor had recently started working with.
Edward.