PROMIS Counselling Clinic

[blueeyeddevil]

PROMIS is a treatment center for those seeking help in dealing with eating disorders, drug and alcohol addictions, gambling problems, even stress and depression. They'll be able to help you make a full recovery.

[blueeyeddevil]

Reese Cordova

It had been about a week and a half since Reese had collapsed at Le Baiser Salé. Santiago had of course rushed her to the hospital where she had come through and been forced to explain everything about her condition. After being treated for malnurishment and being deemed stable, she was eventually referred to a treatment clinic. There had been a lot tears and pleading on her part, but Santiago had finally managed to convince her that it was for the best.

Reese been at PROMIS for a week now. She had to say that she truly had the best friends around. She may have gotten mad at Santiago for making her stay here, but he genuinely cared about her enough to make her get help. Damien visited her everyday and kept her spirits up. Ashton, Lucian and Amorette had all given her lots of support and it was wonderful to know that so many people cared about her getting better.

She was still having a very hard time adjusting to living here at the center. She was getting incredibly restless because she really had no way of practicing her dance and with this special diet she was being kept on, she kept feeling like her weight was going completely out of control. She felt so fat and lazy all the time even though the counselors and her friends kept telling her she still had a lot of weight to gain back before she could be released.

She sat on the couch in her room, reading a copy of "Fahrenheit 451" that Damien had brought for her to read and keep herself entertained. Her foot kept bouncing up and down as she lay on the couch in her comfy striped pajama set, waiting for the center to allow visiting hours to begin and for her friends to arrive. It was always the highlight of her day when she got to spend time with them.

[The Exodus]

Santiago Ortiz

It was strange, the way guilt worked. Santiago could shoot a man and throw him into the river with a pair of cement shoes and not even feel a blip of remorse. He could stab a guy in the back during a bar fight and sit back down, order another round of beers, and pretend there wasn’t a bleeding and moaning guy lying at his feet. He could beat a pair of thugs with his bare fists until their faces were pulpy and unrecognizable and then go to work the next day as if the bandages on his knuckles were from a freak run-in with the sander. But the instant Reese hit the ground in Le Baiser Sale, Santiago’s stoicism crumpled. All he could do was wonder why he hadn’t seen this coming and how he could have prevented it.

Reese had something called “body dysmorphic disorder”, which was a fancy word for “someone who thinks they’re too fat, so they starve themselves to achieve so-called perfection”. There were subsets, of course. Bulimia, anorexia… But subsets be d*mned, Santiago felt like he should have known there was something wrong. He felt like he should have spoken up or done something before rushing Reese to the ER in the back of an ambulance. After all, the signs were there. She didn’t eat. The pair of them would get together for lunch and she would shun even her salad, only picking at the arugula and dandelions or whatever. And Reese was nothing, if not zealous about her dancing. Dancers had the highest rates of eating disorders, too. Santiago had seen so many girls with knobby wrists and bony legs prance across his stage over the last two years. Why hadn’t he noticed that Reese was one of them?

Maybe it was because, subconsciously, Santiago expected girls who succumbed to eating disorders to be anything but Reese. In his mind, until a few days ago, girls with eating disorders were selfish, shallow b*tches who were fashion obsessed and counted calories in their spare time. They weren’t funny or clever. Never mind that, until now, they all looked like walking skeletons. But Reese was this beautiful, quirky girl with a good head on her shoulders, good heart in her chest. Santiago hadn’t been able to imagine her harboring any kind of dark secret, particularly one that involved a form of self-harm. She shattered stereotype and made Santiago feel like an anthropomorphic German Shepard who ought to stand guard at her bedside.

Of course, getting permission to do that had been hell. They didn’t want non-blood relatives spending the night. They didn’t want visitors smuggling in food—or, really, anything. Hell, Santiago had even been made to leave his gun at home because there was a metal detector at the entrance. The security guard had even checked the dirt in the pot of marigolds Santiago was bringing today, as if he was hiding a grenade in the soil. It was like a prison, this help center, and though Santiago insisted Reese stay there for her own good, he didn’t like it one bit. He’d rather just take her to his flat, nurse her back to health himself, and give her a sense of normalcy. He was actually shocked that the patients’ rooms didn’t have bars on the windows here.

“Monsieur,” a too-cheerful nurse called out as Santiago moved from the waiting room towards Reese’s private room. “Monsieur, visiting hours don’t start for another five minutes.”

Santiago looked at her. She was wearing one of those perfectly pressed white uniforms, but no 1940’s sailor hat, and her white pumps were greying just a bit. She smiled at him with that eerie brightness Santiago hated most about hospitals. He smiled nastily at her.

“Have a heart, Nurse Ratched,” he said. “What’s five minutes, anyways?”

She laughed, as though she’d never heard that one before. Santiago was seriously unnerved by her niceness. If he had to work in a center for recovering druggies, bulimics, cutters, anorexics, and sex fiends, he’d probably forget how to laugh.

“You’re the one they warned me about,” she confessed, pulling a ring of keys from the front pocket of her skirt. “You’re the one who’s been giving Dr. Marcel a hard time about our no-smoking policy. Here to see Reese Cordova, aren’t you?”

Santiago sighed.

“That’s me, yeah,” Santiago said. He stuffed his hands in his pockets.

Nurse Ratched kept smiling blithely.

“She’s such a sweetheart,” she said. “Everyone here loves her. And, from what I’ve heard, you’re just one of her many admirers.”

“You mean friends,” said Santiago.

Nurse Ratched shrugged and looked through the keys for the one with Reese’s room number on it.

“There’s been another gentleman here to see her almost every day,” she said. “His name’s Damien.”

“Can I go see Reese now?” Santiago asked, trying not to snap.

“He’s nicer than you are,” said the nurse, who didn’t look up or answer Santiago’s question. “But, I suppose it takes all types, doesn’t it?”

Santiago groaned and plucked the keys out of Nurse Ratched’s long, pink fingernails. She gasped, looked like she might admonish him.

“I just want to see Reese,” he said simply. “Look, there’s less than a minute left until visiting hours…”

Nurse Ratched snatched the keys back and started leading Santiago down the hallway. He could hear her muttering in irritated French about the impertinence of some people. Behind her, Santiago smirked lazily. At least he was getting what he wanted. The nurse unlocked Reese’s door and her tone took on that saccharine tone again.

“Reese, darling, there’s a visitor for you,” she said. Though her back was to him, Santiago could imagine a dippy smile on her clown-red lips. The nurse walked out of the room and Santiago walked in. It was weird to see Reese lying in a hospital bed with a paper bracelet around her wrist that gave her a number instead of a name. Still, Santiago braved a smile.

“I brought you something,” he said, holding out the potted flowers to her. “Figured you could use some company in between visiting hours.”

[blueeyeddevil]

Reese Cordova

She really hated laying around but until her friends got here, there was really nothing to do. So she was incredibly excited when she heard the door to her room open. Reese grinned as the nurse poked her head in. The staff here was nice enough, but she was excited because when they showed up at this time, it meant that they were announcing a visitor. Sure enough the woman gave a smile. “Reese, darling, there’s a visitor for you,” she said. Reese quickly threw the book aside, leaping up to a standing position. She had to say that she was at least better enough to leap about without getting dizzy anymore.

Her smile brightened as the nurse left and Santiago stepped into the room, carrying a small potted plant. “I brought you something. Figured you could use some company in between visiting hours.” he said, holding out the pretty flowers to her. With a laugh, she took them, admiring them for a long moment before she fingered them lightly, taking in their texture and enjoying it.

"Oh thank you! They're beautiful!" she said with deep gratitude. They really did brighten up the room. She set them on the beside table before throwing her arms around Santiago and laughing softly. "Of course I enjoy your company much better! Its so good to see you," she said happily. She looked up, noticing his smile was just slightly off. "Oh come on..." she said with a smile she hoped would assure him. "I'm doing better. Slowly but surely..."

[The Exodus]

Santiago Ortiz

The instant Santiago walked in, Reese’s face split into a grin. Her skin looked translucent under the garish, florescent lighting, but the roses would return to her cheeks in time. They had to. She wouldn’t be Reese with out them. As it was, she was smiling and laughing and stroking the plants with the affection you’d expect to be given to a pet or small child.

"Oh thank you! They're beautiful!" she gushed.

The plants made their home on her bedside table and the room seemed a little less empty. There were some books, some DVDs, some magazines already. But now, there was just a little more life. Santiago smiled shakily before being swallowed into a Reese hug. Her arms felt thinner than he remembered—and it was probably just in his head. Santiago stroked her back gingerly, like she would break if he squeezed.

"Of course I enjoy your company much better! Its so good to see you," she said. Then, pulling away, Reese peered at Santiago curiously. "Oh come on... I'm doing better. Slowly but surely..."

“Sure,” Santiago said, trying not to be too dismissive. He wasn’t sure how long “slowly” would take. “I just wish I could be the one taking care of you. I don’t trust doctors much. If I knew they’d keep you this long, I…”

He stopped and cleared his throat.

“The nurse said you’ve been getting a lot of visitors,” he said, changing the subject. “Who else stopped by?”

[blueeyeddevil]

Reese Cordova

It felt so wonderful to hug someone. Especially someone she cared about as much as Santiago. He hugged her back gingerly, but with that hug she could feel his support and affection and it made her believe that she really could get better. And looking into his face, lit with concern, she knew if it wasn't for herself it would be for him...for all of her friends. She could get through this and she would be healthy again.

“Sure. I just wish I could be the one taking care of you. I don’t trust doctors much. If I knew they’d keep you this long, I…" he said, trailing off. Reese couldn't help but be very touched by that though. She smiled and shook her head, taking his hands and squeezing them gently.

"I'm not going to just get better over night..." she said teasingly. "And you do take care of me. You got me here...And I am getting better. The nurse said I've gained 5 pounds." Reese wasn't really very happy about that revelation and she tried not to wrinkle her nose too much as she said it, but apparently it was progress.

“The nurse said you’ve been getting a lot of visitors,” Santiago mentioned. “Who else stopped by?” It was obvious he was quite ready to change the subject and she was willing to let him.

She smiled at the mention of her other visitors. "Other friends. My friends Amorette and Ashton have been here. My friend Damien has been here practically every day! He actually brought me all the DVDs and books..." she said with a fond smile. "It really means a lot to me that I have friends who care so much."

[The Exodus]

Santiago Ortiz

Reese tried to reassure Santiago she was healing. She told him that she’d gained five pounds and that it wasn’t going to all get better overnight. And while he wanted to be understanding and accepting, he still felt inadequate; how hadn’t noticed until she was collapsed on a nightclub floor that there might be something wrong with Reese’s health. He was grateful for the subject change, even if mention of Reese’s other well-wishers sent pangs of something painful through Santiago’s stomach. Why had none of them noticed? Why had none of them done anything?

"Other friends,” Reese said. “My friends Amorette and Ashton have been here. My friend Damien has been here practically every day! He actually brought me all the DVDs and books..." she said with a fond smile. "It really means a lot to me that I have friends who care so much."

Santiago smiled, despite himself. Caring friends, indeed. Caring friends who let her slip to this point of illness. Friends who thought DVDs and books and flowers could actually fix anything. He felt this sudden urge to throttle Amorette and Ashton and Damien all, shake them until they realized that all of them were equally to blame for Reese being here in the hospital.

“Yeah,” he agreed with as much conviction as he could muster. “I’m glad people are looking after you, querida.”

He stroked her hair tenderly and his lips twitched. He didn’t want to get emotional, and yet, here he was. But if Reese could be this exposed and vulnerable, her privacy invaded by friends and medical staff alike, Santiago could afford to be selfless with his affection.

[blueeyeddevil]

Reese Cordova

There was something wrong with Santiago. He was smiling, but it wasn't the genuine smile she had come to know from him. There was a sadness behind his eyes that she hadn't seen in quite some time and it greatly concerned her. She supposed that technically this was a hospital and hospitals tended to have that effect on people. She wondered though if there was more to it than she was guessing. She tried to assure him that she was fine, that she had friends who were giving her so much support and affection.

“Yeah I’m glad people are looking after you, querida.” he said, sounding a bit forced. He stroked her hair sweetly the same way James always did whenever he was worried about her for some reason.

So she did what she always did in that situation. She reached up, placing her hands on either side of his face, making him lookat her as she met his gaze steadily. "What's bothering you," she asked softly, still looking at him with great concern. A moment later, grabbed his hand and pulled him in the direction of the couch where they could both sit and discuss this.

She sat him down first before folding her legs underneath her as she sat down next to him. She placed her hand on his arm in a comforting gesture. "Talk to me...please," she pleaded gently. She didn't want him to be upset anymore but she needed to understand what was wrong in the first place.

[The Exodus]

Santiago Ortiz

Reese’s palms, soft and warm, rested on either side of Santiago’s face. The tender gestures she made towards him always surprised him, even now, after everything they’d been through together. Sometimes, Santiago wanted to recoil from her touch out of surprise. He wanted to scuttle backwards and study her, ask her why… But today, like every day, he just stared at her with round curious eyes.

"What's bothering you?" she asked gently, leading him to the couch to sit. "Talk to me...please.”

Santiago held his breath. He didn’t know what to say. After all, Reese was the one in the hospital. She was the one who deserved comfort and consolation. He stroked the back of her hand, the way she would have done to him.

“Reese, you’re an amazing girl,” he said at long last. “Seeing you here… “

He cleared his throat and shook his head. Santiago didn’t like to get sentimental.

“Look. I want you to get better. I want to do everything I can to help you get better. You get that?” he said, voice firmer than before. Stronger. “And there’s no point in wishing you never had to come here in the first place. So I’m going to stop being a baby about it.”

He tried to smile and he squeezed Reese’s hand.

“And you’re gonna get through this. I’ll be d*mned if they keep you locked up in here forever.”

[blueeyeddevil]

Reese Cordova

The warm, rough feel of Santiago's hand stroking her own was something comforting and familiar to Reese. Though he rarely showed any kind of affection, she was actually use to it from him. There were times she wondered if that affection was solely reserved for her. It made her feel rather selfish to think about it that way. People returned affection when given affection and she sincerely hope that there were others in Santiago's life besides herself that gave him the affection he deserved.

“Reese, you’re an amazing girl,” he finally said. “Seeing you here… “ He didn't seem to be able to finish that thought, quickly clearing his throat as if clearing away the emotion stuck there. “Look. I want you to get better. I want to do everything I can to help you get better. You get that?” he asked her. “And there’s no point in wishing you never had to come here in the first place. So I’m going to stop being a baby about it.”

Reese met his gaze with a warm smile as he squeezed her hand gently. “And you’re gonna get through this. I’ll be d*mned if they keep you locked up in here forever.” he promised.

Reese laughed softly, shaking her head. "You'll come bursting in here and just carry me out if I'm not released right on time," she teased lightly. She rose to her knees on the couch where they sat, reaching over and wrapping her arms around his neck in a tight hug. "I love you, you know that," she murmured affectionately.

She pulled away after a moment, knowing that he didn't really enjoy sentimental moments like that. She sat back in her seat, smiling at him wrly. "So tell me...how are the other ballerinas getting along without me," she asked teasingly. Her face fell after a moment. "I'll bet they're having a hayday gossiping about my condition..."

[The Exodus]

Santiago Ortiz

Reese laughed; Santiago’s stomach knotted uncomfortably. It wasn’t an unpleasant sound, but he wished she understood how serious he was. He wondered if she ever would. Reese was a lighthearted girl. Even the bleakest times—like today—were looked at with an optimistic eye. Santiago envied her talent for happiness, but sometimes he wished she would just keep her feet planted on the ground for a few seconds.

"You'll come bursting in here and just carry me out if I'm not released right on time," she teased, not realizing how on-the-mark she probably was. She shifted onto her knees and wrapped her arms around Santiago. "I love you, you know that."

A softer man would have cried. It had been ages—not quite a year—since Santiago had heard those words directed at him. And Reese was right; he knew that she loved him. He loved her, too, but had never found the words or the time to say it. For once, Santiago leaned into the hug, wrapped his own arms around Reese. When Reese pulled away, a part of Santiago that had been dormant for far too long wished she would have let him hold her just a moment more. Unused to that sort of longing, Santiago tried to swallow it, pushing it down with his Adam’s apple.

"So tell me...how are the other ballerinas getting along without me," she asked teasingly. Her face fell after a moment. "I'll bet they're having a hayday gossiping about my condition..."

“You know I don’t tolerate gossip,” he told her steadily. “About anyone, but especially not about you. I’m sure they’ve got theories, but not on my time.”

Of course, Santiago was sure that his adamant squashing of rumors would lead to other sorts of rumors, but they were the less vicious kind now and, if anything, were more about why Santiago was so keen on keeping Reese’s good name intact. He didn’t care what they said about his motivations, as long as it meant that Reese wasn’t made out to be unworthy of the ballet company or sicker than she was. He smiled at her and slid his arm around her thin shoulders in another embrace.

“Besides,” he told her. “They always find something or someone new to talk about within the week. You know how it is.”

[blueeyeddevil]

Reese Cordova

That was probably the worst part about being a rehabilitation center...knowing that once people found out about her situation, she would be a social outcast for sure. Rehab was for addicts and mentally ill people. Before she had come here she would have never described herself as either, but her counselor had made her see that she could be classified as either. Eating disorders were both a mental disease and an addiction that literally ate away at a person. Now she was terrified by what people were saying about her behind her back.

“You know I don’t tolerate gossip,” Santiago reminded her. “About anyone, but especially not about you. I’m sure they’ve got theories, but not on my time.”

A grateful smile flickered to her lips as she looked up at him. She should have known that Santiago wouldn't allow anyone to say anything bad about her. And most people were far too afraid of him to even think about crossing him. She had to be one of the few people who had actually managed to break through and see the softer side of him. Once more she was grateful to have such a wonderful friend in Santiago.

“Besides, they always find something or someone new to talk about within the week. You know how it is.” he said, putting an arm around her and Reese giggled softly as she nodded in understanding.

"I think I know a little too well," she assured him. With a sigh, she leant her head against his shoulder and smiled contentedly. "And thank you." She paused a moment, turning her head to look up at him. "I'm really glad you came. I miss you when you aren't here," she said.

[The Exodus]

Santiago Ortiz

Santiago silenced rumors the way he used to silence rival gangsters: quickly, efficiently, and without going through the usual channels. Sitting the girls down for a chat about how gossip was bad for the company right after Reese was hospitalized would have only increased intrigue. Santiago was well aware of how he came across to the dancers. He was detached and a little intimidating. It baffled most that Reese had broken through to him. It baffled him, too. But Santiago knew well how gossip worked. You stick up for someone too passionately, and everyone assumes that you’re doing it in the orchestra pit after hours. Reese didn’t need that sort of drivel clinging to her reputation, alongside everything else people were speculating. That she couldn’t hack rehearsals or critics. That she was on maternity leave. That she was dead. Whatever sort of mierda that they came up with. It was all stupid, all wrong. So Santiago did something he was unused to. He told the truth.

Well.

His version of the truth.

Reese was in the hospital, he told them. She will be fine; but these things happen. It’s better to be sympathetic than speculative and let the poor girl recover in peace. Well-wishers could send cards to her dormitory. He or another friend of hers would pick them up for delivery. It was enough to silence too many questioners. The odd ballerina took guesses at the illness in question. Cancer, they’d say because they weren’t creative enough to imagine anything else. Santiago said, No, it isn’t cancer. It’s nothing terminal. She’ll be back soon.

Now, he hoped that was the truth. He was sure it had to be. Reese would get healthier again in no time. Santiago willed himself to believe that. He’d never been good at optimism.

"I think I know a little too well," Reese said, sighing. She leaned against Santiago’s shoulder and fit there perfectly. He smiled with her. "And thank you." She paused a moment, turning her head to look up at him. "I'm really glad you came. I miss you when you aren't here."

“I’d sleep here if they’d let me,” he told her. “But the medical staff doesn’t like me much.”

His smile was crooked, amused and he shook his head. He wished Reese was coming home with him after all this was over and done; he wanted to keep an eye on her, take care of her. He had, as a younger man, assumed he lacked that instinct that bonded parents and children or lovers or siblings. He was a pack animal in the crudest sense of the term. He needed others to accomplish things; they needed him. But wanting them around was another thing. And then there was Reese. His lips twitched a little, as he shied from all the implications that might have held. It wasn’t as though he’d never cared for anyone else. That would make him heartless. He wasn’t. He pretended to be, but Santiago was just a man like any other. He loved and cared for people. Select people. So what if he was choosy? So what if Reese was one of a tiny handful who proved herself worthy of his undying loyalty? He draped an arm around her shoulders and held her again. He just wanted her to know he was there now; would be always if he could. Or as close to always as a man like Santiago knew how to be.

[Lets_Eat_Paste]

William MaCarthy

The recent weeks had been interesting. The show was finally coming together, looking more like a play than a barren stage; Damien had a fantastic pride party (if you took out the part in which his parents fought and Bill’s dad broke a wine glass); and Bill had met Toni, a professor at the university who lent him a book and was quickly becoming his new favourite pastime.

The only thing missing was the constant presence of Damien. He wasn’t rushing about in hopes to take care of things in that neurotic way of his. He wasn’t telling Bill to turn his music down while he painted. He was reserved, often away to visit this friend of his in some clinic or another.

But today, a combination of Toddy and work called Damien away. This morning, Damien prodded him awake, and before Bill could pull his eyelids open, Damien was spewing a list of things. Bill couldn’t catch it all, but he heard something about Reese, Damien’s friend who had anorexia in that clinic that saw more of Damien and Bill did.

Bill shuffled out of his room with a sleepy moan and looked at the gift basket. Movies, books, colouring books sat in the basket, neatly organized, aesthetically pleasing way only Damien could manage.

Anorexia. The word replayed in Bill’s mind. Common sense and human goodness coalesced to create an idea. It was surprisingly considerate when taking into account how early it was.

He would make this Reese a meal. Anorexia meant she was hungry and Bill was a fabulous cook. He could whip her up something fast and meaty. Certainly that would get her back on her feet in no time. But Bill was no doctor.

He placed the warm Tupperware in a place Damien would approve of and strapped the basket to his motorbike, and went to this clinic Damien gave him directions to.

“I’m here to see Reese Cordova?” he said to the man behind the desk. “Damien Michaud.” He signed in, his hand carefully mimicking that swirly cursive he had seen Damien sign with countless times that was pretty, but looked little like his name.

“Right that way, sir,” the man said , pointing around the corner. Bill walked until he found the manila folder that bore the name he was looking for.

“Knock, knock,” he said, rapping lightly on the door.

It was awkward, really, seeing this sick girl he didn’t know but was important to his best friend.

“Um, hi. Damien’s at work, so he sent me. I’m Bill… How are you feeling? I brought this.” He set it down on her nightstand. He extended a hand. “It’s nice to meet you. Damien’s told me a lot about you.” That was a lie. They saw so little of each other that all Bill got was that her name was Reese she had anorexia and was “incredibly sweet”. It wasn’t much, but it left Bill room to form his own opinion.

[blueeyeddevil]

Reese Cordova

Reese was happily flittering about the room, picking up her usual mess of clothes and books and DVDs. She was trying to make things look at least somewhat presentable. Damien would be here soon and thought that he would probably appreciate a place to sit when he arrived. She had actually forgone wearing her usual pajamas and had on a light, loose fitting sun dress instead and brushed her hair to look presentable herself. She knew Damien didn’t care how she looked or even how her room looked, but it made her feel more normal to get dressed and clean up the room.

The message came over an intercom system that her visitor, Damien Michaud, had arrived and was on his way down. Reese thanked them and went about putting away the last few pieces of clothes. “Knock, knock,” came a voice that, while carrying a familiar British accent, did not sound like Damien. She glanced towards the door to find a young man that seemed vaguely familiar but she didn’t think she had ever actually met.

She blinked at the stranger for a moment. “You aren’t Damien,” she said, confused. Who was this man and why had he signed in as Damien? And why was he carrying a basket of stuff?

“Um, hi. Damien’s at work, so he sent me. I’m Bill… How are you feeling? I brought this.” he said, setting the basket down on her bedside table and extending his hand. She smiled in recognition at the name, shaking the man’s hand in return. “It’s nice to meet you. Damien’s told me a lot about you.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you too,” she said with a bright smile. “You’re Damien’s best friend! His roommate! Glad to finally meet you!” Her gaze flickered to the basket of goodies the man had set down, recognizing Damien’s handiwork and she shook her head. “I can’t believe he keeps bringing me all of this stuff! I swear he’s gotten me entire library worth of books already! Not to mention all of the DVDs and coloring books!” She smiled fondly and laughed softly. “He’s so sweet! I’d be going crazy in here if it weren’t for him. Be sure and tell him thank you from me when you see him!”

She glanced back up at Bill as she began to look through the various items he had brought with him. “It was also very sweet of you to come and bring this to me! You really didn’t have to do that,” she said with a grateful smile. She finally came across a container of food. The people at the front desk must have gotten so use to “Damien” that they didn’t even check him. Otherwise they would have confiscated this for sure. “What is this,” she asked curiously. Surely Damien knew the rules by now!