Name: This Night is Sparkling (1/?)

Pairing: Dameron

Rating: T

Disclaimer: Damian McGinty and Cameron Mitchell both belong to themselves. I am only writing this work of fiction based on their portrayals on "The Glee Project". None of this has actually happened in real life as far as I know.

Summary: AU!Fic. Damian McGinty is the son of an Irish multi-million dollar business tycoon, living the life of Beverly Hills Estates and fancy dinner parties. Cameron Mitchell is a struggling musician in L.A., barely making enough money to get by. Through an odd set of circumstances and coincidences, they end up meeting. This is the story of their relationship as it grows with them in two separate worlds.

Notes: So, I had posted this story up on tumblr a few weeks ago, writing all the way up to chapter eight. Unfortunately, there seems to be some errors appearing up on my blog, preventing people from reading it. Instead of copy/pasting everything all over again in new post, wearetomorrow13, amazing author of "Those Damn Implications", suggested I created a fanfiction account. So here I am! I'm going to try to post up all eight chapters right now, so I can link 'em.

I'm just gonna assume every one reading this is the people who have already liked the story on tumblr, so hi guys! *blows kisses*

Damian's palms flattened along the smooth marble rail of the balcony. His eyes were shut as he sniffed in the fresh Southern California air. But that was the problem. That wasn't the air he wanted to smell. His grip suddenly tightened on the banister as he tilted his head down a sighed heavily. It was no use.

No matter how many times he stood out there with his eyes shut and his face up towards the sky, he just couldn't seem to go back to Derry.

Opening his eyes, he shook his head. "I'm an idiot," he said to himself dejectedly, looking forward. The brilliant lights of L.A spread out before him. He had already memorized all of the different colors from being out there so many nights, and he knew that this was a view people would kill to have right outside their bedroom walls. Damian dropped a little lower so that he was supporting his body with forearms. Even he had to admit, the view really was stunning.

"Damian?" Damian straightened up and turned around to look from the entrance of the balcony through his room to the opening door. His mother, Megan, attentively stepped inside, dressed up in her night robe and slippers. She looked him over with a soft smile. "What are you doing up so late? Are you alright?"

"Aye, yeah of course," he said back, walking into the room and shutting the glass balcony door behind him. He spread the curtain to cover it and turned back to watch his mother walk farther into the room with a knowing look on her face. The smile on Damian's face dropped and he sighed heavily. He walked over to his bed and sat down on the edge of it. He felt the weight of his mom shift the mattress as she sat down on the other end.

He felt her eyes on him as a long silence settled between them.

When she didn't say anything Damian sighed and said quietly, "I miss Ireland."

"Oh, sweetie." Damian looked up at her and she moved some hair out of his eyes in a loving gesture. With a sad smile, she said, "We've been living here for four years now, hasn't the homesickness faded a bit?"

Damian moved his head away from her hand. "It's just, I've been thinking…" he started, trying to find the right words to say. "Back before the company became so huge—"

"Dam, we've been over this," his mom said gently, he looked back to see her tucking a lock of her own brown hair behind her ear. Damian shook his head.

"I was normal there, mom, people didn't care. We were still at their level, ya'know? It didn't matter that we became richer, money never seemed to change who we were. Here…"

His fingers curled into the comforter of his bed, and he looked down to stare at them. "It defines you, here. I…miss the way we were, I guess."

Damian didn't look back at his mother after that, though he felt her staring at him. He already knew what he would see in her eyes if he looked up; understanding and unconditional love. However, he knew there would also be pity, and the slightest amount of disappointment behind all of it. She tapped his hand comfortingly.

"You think too much," she said, leaning over to place a kiss on the top of his head. The mattress shifted once more as she got up and left the room. Damian didn't move from his spot on the bed for a few moments after the door shut before suddenly sighing loudly and throwing himself backwards onto the sheets.

"Non-fat Bananarama Mocha. Just a little bit of whipped cream at the top."

Cameron Mitchell sat up on-stage, perched on top of a stool. His eyes were cast down as his fingers strummed at the old, beaten-up guitar in his lap. The scent of coffee and baked goods emanated from everywhere at the coffeehouse, the people occupying it dotting only a few of the seats. He cleared his throat before leaning towards the microphone in front of him.

"I worry, I weigh three times my body

I worry, I throw my fear around,"

There was once a time, back in high school, when Cameron was sure that he had promised himself that he would give his all for every song he sung. Over the years, his promise had stayed true to himself. But after awhile, as much as he hated to admit it, he just got so tired of it all. Tired of this old guitar he's had since Junior year, tired of playing in this tiny café somehow tucked in the middle of nowhere while simultaneously being in the center of L.A., tired of the bills, and tired of nobody listening.

"But I will bend the light, pretend that it somehow lingered on,

Well all I got's,

Awhoo ooh, Awhoo ooh,"

Despite this, he held on to his dream of one day going to be an actual musician. One day he wouldn't have to work at this café with the lowest paycheck ever, struggling to pay student loans and the rent for his tiny, crappy little apartment. He wanted to see people to line up to listen to his music, not for fame, but because they just wanted to listen to his music.

"Hello! I said a little whipped cream! Did I ask for a freakin' Mount Everest on the top of my mocha? I expect a free drink, hotshot!"

Unfortunately, by the way his life was going, that little dream might take a few more months. Or years. Hopefully a little less than a decade.

"And I won't pay no mind,

'Cause it won't, and it won't

'Cause it can't…"

Later that night, after his last song was finished, Cameron sat up on the black stool for a moment watching the sole busboy clean up coffee stains and muffin crumbs from the tables. He ran a hand through his hair as he pushed off of the stool and started to tuck his guitar away into its case. The door of the of café suddenly opened, the tiny bell at the top chiming. The bus boy continued cleaning and Cameron didn't bother to look up.

"Hey Marissa," he said automatically, clicking the case shut. He looked up to see a beautiful girl with reddish-brown hair smiling down at him. "Hey there stud."

Cameron laughed a little as he got up with the handle of his guitar case in his hand and gave an awkward one-armed hug to his friend. "Haven't seen you in a while," he said conversationally as he stepped down from the stage. Marissa shrugged and stuck her hands inside her pockets. "The internship has me running some errands, I haven't had any free time lately. So how was work?"

"Oh, great. A chick spilled coffee on her boyfriend's laptop, they broke up right there on the spot. I sang a song dedicated to them."

Marissa nodded. "Impressive. Stella's toy poodle barfed on her cashmere sweater so she made me wear it as a punishment for getting her dog sick." Stella was one of the supervisors of the fashion firm Marissa's internship was placed.

Cameron winced. Marissa didn't seem to notice as she simply shrugged and asked, "So how are you and Macy doing? I haven't heard from her in awhile."

Cameron bit the inside of his cheek as he walked over to an empty table and sat down. Marissa cocked her head towards him curiously as she took the chair opposite of him. "We're uh…" Cameron started hesitantly. "We're good."

"That took you awhile," Marissa said, her tone slightly accusing. Cameron sighed loudly and leaned back in his chair.

"Macy's just been…stressed, lately, you know? It-It just doesn't feel like we're on the same page anymore-"

"Is she on her period?" Marissa cut in, not a hint of shame in her voice. Cameron shot forward and grabbed the edge of the table.

"What, no! Gross! I mean, I don't know!" he spluttered. Marissa shrugged and leaned back in her own chair.

"If a guy wants to survive a long-term relationship with a woman, it helps to know the flow of the tides," she said wisely, tenting up her hands as if she were some sort of love guru.

"Who says that?" Cameron asked incredulously. "No one says that!" Marissa giggled childishly at his reaction.

"Anyways, I don't think Macy's at…high-tide or whatever. I doubt a girl can be on her flow for over two month—"

"Wait, wait," Marissa suddenly said, her voice getting serious. "You and Macy have been having problems for that long?"

Cameron shrugged. "Well, I wouldn't say problems exactly. Just, little disagreements. Frequent ones, but they're little, we're fine."

"Yeah, but they add up, Cam," she said, looking seriously concerned for her friend. Cameron shook his head and stood up from the chair. "Look," he said, looking down at her. "I know how to handle my relationships, okay? Don't worry about it."

Cameron headed for the door and looked over his shoulder before leaving, "I'll see you, Marissa."

When the bell chimed after Cameron left, Marissa rubbed her temples and let out a long breath.

End Notes: Tell me if this works out, 'kay guys? And if you're reading this because you just happened upon it, tell me what you think of it, please and thanks?