P.D Damien, was his name. Other, though preferred to call him just Damien. Which he didn't mind. He thought he was a good person, anyways found a way to help out, went regularly to Church. Heck, he even donates to charity too, smash amounts, but still. He believes he is a good person.

Oh little Mr. Perfect, didn't know what was coming for him though. Days ago, weeks, months, maybe even years ago, he had lost count. But that hateful day where his entire life was changed. He was hanging out with his friend group, old friends now, didn't talk to them much. There was this kid, Devin. Now, Devin, being fourteen and dumb, trying to seem cool or something, decided that they should play Russian roulette. Why he had a gun in the first place was another question. But, being stupid kids with the feel of a need to "be cool" in the same room as a gun, was definitely not a good idea. With the dare of a game of Russian roulette, the tension was thick was awkward laughter from the other kids.

Devin, apparently thoughts since no one was stepping up, decided it would be the best idea to point the gun towards Damien, and he was smiling. Wildly. And Damien was no fool, in what world would he let an ego-overflowing boy point a loaded gun at him? He slapped that hunk of dangerous metal away from himself, his skin touching the coldness of the gun for just a moment.

But alas, the day everything changed, fate was not on his side. With Devin's finger still on the trigger, and the impact of Damien's slap. The gun went off with a loud, ear bleeding bang. And bleeding it was, the bullet ripped through his friend's stomach, a scream, maybe multiple. Damien was frozen, in shock, surprise, fear, or some might say, even panic.

All in the course of a few minutes and seconds. A crimson red soaked Devin's shirt where he was hit. Before the boy dropped to the floor. All Damien remembered after was snippets of events from the sheer amount of panic. Him checking on his friend to see if the even was alive or not, spoilers- he wasn't. The sound of chaos, before he sprinted out of there.

Which probably wasn't the best decision Damien could've made, since Devin's father was a gangster, a week known one at that. Probably where Devin got the gun from. And he was out of jail, had been for a few days.

In this case, was not in Damien's favor. In the end, he was forced to work for Devin's father. One thing to work for your deceased friend's father, but it's a whole other thing when you intentionally killed your boss's son. The man has Damien forced to commit crimes, body ones. Like he was some sort of personal hitman. Just eliminating whoever the big boss told him to, people who got involved in the guy's imprisonment. Cause if he didn't, The gangster would yell everyone about his friends and whatnot, and kill his family, and probably him. A classic line delivered. But that was years ago, and he's not a kid anymore.

"... Fuck." Damien let out a tired sigh, sinking onto his couch, he had just gotten back home from his "job". Rubbing his eyes with dried blood on his hands. His bloody stained shirt was a mess, turn up a little and roughed up. He was tired. So tired., the gangster was old anyways... And with all the gang things going on, God, he hoped he would die soon. Well... He wasn't the most prettiest right right now, but at least his roommate wasn't home.