Damon woke early.
He sat on the edge of the hotel bed for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck as sunlight crawled through the curtains. He grabbed his phone, checked the time, and nodded to himself.
He showered quickly, dressed in plain clothes—black joggers, a clean hoodie, and sneakers. Before leaving, he leaned over the bed and gently touched Svetlana's shoulder.
She stirred slightly.
"I'm heading downstairs to grab some breakfast," he said softly. "Take your time, I'll bring something up if you want."
She mumbled something half-coherent and pulled the sheets tighter over her shoulder.
Damon smirked, grabbed his key card, and slipped out the door.
He had a long day ahead of him—Joey's old house, the motel where he and his mom stayed, the broken corners of the city that built him.
And later, a meeting with Victor at a small office where a new fight scene was about to be born.
