N / A: First, an important warning: THIS IS NOT MY STORY! This story was written by Amy Lupin based on Harry Potter. But I thought it would be great to adapt to Glee Project, 'cause it fits perfectly in a Dameron! :) There's a little Klaine here too…

Adapt a story in another language is very hard! So yes, it takes work, so I would be happy with some reviews =) And please, if you guys see mistakes in the story, please correct me! My English is not that good, so I would love if you guys could help me…

Nothing belongs to me, in this case, really nothing! Not the history, or Glee, Glee Project and, unfortunately, not Cameron and Damian!

Original Link for those who want to read: .net/s/2582195/1/Green_Eyes It's in portuguese!


Chapter One

The Hipster

"That's it guys! End of game. The victory goes to the Systems of Information class, on the second set! And what an outstanding talent the new player showed! This McGinty guy is promising…"

Cameron Mitchell spat on the floor with despise while watching the skinny boy, who looked like he had grown a lot in a very short time, being hugged by his teammates. Everyone on the team was taller than him and was getting the boy's dark hair even messier than usual. He have beautiful blue eyes, like two sapphires and an irish accent that, for Cameron, made him even more stupid, but for the girls - and some guys – was wonderful.

Cameron didn't know how this kid, who was so unattractive, could be more popular than him, with his blond hair, layered with wires sticking in his cheek and neck that was so sweaty. His pale skin and his slim body made him so attractive. He didn't have exactly the physical type that normally would make success, but the girls love his stylish-rich-nerd style. His blue grayish eyes, usually so cold, were sparkling with rage while he was heading to the locker room with the rest of the (loser) team of Administration.

That was the first official volleyball game he played in McKinley University, and his entrance in the team, on his first year, had to be marked by an outstanding victory. But no, McGinty had to ruin everything! McGinty was always frustrating his plans, every since they were eleven.

Damian McGinty was famous since a year old, while living in Ireland, but not in its own right. His fame was the result of the murder of his parents, who fought for a noble and pathetic cause. Joseph McGinty and Lily were famous television reporters in Ireland who had discovered very dirty business from a feared mobster. Ryan Murphy planned to personally kill the whole family to avoid the scandal with his respectable name and as a way to show his power. But somehow his plan went wrong and he was ambushed before finish it. He was betrayed by one of his men, Grant Gustin, who ironically taught mathematics at McKinley. He was a teacher of the child survivor, former spy and police informant who had abandoned his function when Murphy was captured and won his freedom.

Murphy was dead and Damian had escaped with a strange scar on his forehead, made by a knife. Just another ridiculous detail for the collection… Cameron didn't understand. Why would a horrible mark like that fascinate so many people?

Cameron Mitchell was famous too. Well, maybe not him in particular, but his family name was respected. His father, Adam Mitchell, was a great businessman. He was also a Murphy ex-follower, but that detail had been hushed and briefly forgotten by a high price in government liked to mention that money has a great investment.

When Cameron, at the age of eleven, he knew that Damian would be studying at the same school, he tried a friendly approach, a beneficial alliance for both parts. They could have had a glorious future as allies, but idiot McGinty had despised his attempt of friendship. He had chosen to remain anonymous instead, the loser, right beside the other two nobodies: Samuel Larsen e Marissa Von Bleicken. To everyone else, Damian was noble and humble. To Cameron, he was a fool: shy, modest and with a hero complex. Those three qualities resumed all the loading he felt for Damian.

Fame usually tends to be a passenger thing, but there's always an exception. And who would that exception be but Damian McGinty? The more he ran away from fame, the more he became admired by everyone and consequently, more loathed by Cameron.

So, the years of rivalry and mutual aversion went by. When Cameron thought he had finally gotten rid of the hateful boy, he had chased him and entered the same college as him, stealing the popularity that was rightfully his. Larsen and Von Bleicken had followed him like trained puppies. With a scholarship of course, besides not having the social status, they certainly didn't had the means. It was an outrage having to be with that kind of people min such a renowned university, but he really didn't have a choice.

McGinty, Larsen and Von Bleicken, the inseparable trio… The three had managed to stay together even in college, even though the first two were studying Systems of Information while Granger had opted to study Foreign Commerce. Still, both courses were in the same building, and they actually had some classes together in the first years.

For all that, the only thing that could ease the anger he felt was to annoy the brunette. On the way to the locker room, he saw an unparalleled scene: Larsen and Von Bleicken kissing. McGinty was close enough that he would hear if Cameron spoke loudly, and that's what he did.

"Ugh! Gross!" he mocked on his affected voice "Why don't you go to a place out of sight to make out? No one here wants to watch such a disgusting scene."

The couple had quickly separated themselves startled, but their expressions became dark when they realized who had spoken. The tall boy, with the dreads and his dark eyes freckles clenched his fists and replied:

"Then why did you stop to watch?"

"Just ignore him, Sam." the girl with brown eyes and curly red hair tried to calm him, but her eyes are also sparkling. "He's just angry because he lost the game."

"So, tell me Larsen, how was it watching McGinty play on the place on the team you wanted?" the dread guy turned pale and Cameron's smile grew wider. "What, do you think I don't know you sign up for the team but didn't even try out because the Popular McGinty made the judges' eyes sparkle?"

Von Bleicken turned pale too and looked at the boy with disbelief.

"Don't tell me you hadn't told your little girlfriend, Larsen! And of course McGinty doesn't know either, or he would have renounced his spot for charity, isn't that right?"

"Oh, you…" Samuel tried to throw himself at Cameron with clenched fists, but Marissa held him back, helped by two male decided arms.

"Get out of here Mitchell." ordered Damian, while firmly holding his friend. "Go cry your defeat with your brainless friends."

"And how are you planning to celebrate your victory McGinty? On the burrow the Larsen call home, eating bread with butter and drinking fresh tap water while sitting on the floor playing chess?"

"You miserable bastard…" Sam tried to reach Cameron, but he was well held.

"No? Well, who knows, are you taking them all to your place to watch TV, McGinty? Do you know what a TV is, Larsen? Because judging by the quantity of brothers you have…

"Shut up, Mitchell!" Damian growled between clenched teeth, squeezing his friend's arm harder than necessary.

"I wonder if they can all fit in your house McGinty. Better fill up the pantry. The way they're poor they're probably starving, and judging by the size of their mother…"

Cameron couldn't finish what he was saying because he was interrupted by punch on his face. He barely had time to notice the taste of blood before he was tossed to the floor. McGinty fell on top of him, punching and swearing while one of the various Samuel's brothers, helped Von Bleicken to hold him down and the other tried to separate McGinty and Mitchell, but couldn't see which arm belonged to whom, so tangled they were together.

"You miserable son of a…"

"What is this?" their judge and trainer, Coach Beast, appeared shocked, and the two finally realized where they where.

McGinty got up, straightened the red and golden shirt he was wearing and cleaned the blood that was running from his nose with the back of his hand.

"Let's get out of here." He said shooting one last furious look at Cameron before turning his back on him and heading to the exit without even passing through the locker room to change. "Is it true what he said about you joining the team?"

Cameron watched Larsen ears turning red and him twisting his hands before he answered.

"Well, I did sign up, but it wouldn't work out anyway…"

They went through the door and out of Cameron's field of vision. He wanted to get out with the same ease and despite as the other, but realized he couldn't.

"Cameron! What have they done to you, big boy?" said a long black-haired girl, very beautiful, wearing tight jeans and tight-fitting blouse, looking every part of the blonde's body.

"Shut up, Lindsay" the boy growled ignoring her help to get up. "Don't call me… that!"

"Oh, big b…"

"Shut up!" He had a cut on his eyebrow and his teeth were red from the blood that emanated from the deep cut on his lower lip. "That's going to swell like hell! I must look awful, hide me!"

She put herself in front of him, but she was shorter than him, so that didn't work. He had to run to the locker room leaving her mumbling things like "My poor big boy!"

Cameron got home and hiding his face from his mother when he passed her, not answering her greeting. On his room, he threw the keys to his BMW on his dresser and his backpack was left on the floor halfway to the bathroom.

"Who are you, you monster?" he asked the image reflected on the mirror. His lip was swollen and his right eye was turning purple. "You're going to pay for this, McGinty. How am I supposed to go out tonight, with my face looking like this?"

After taking a nice, long shower, he couldn't run anymore. He showed his face to his mother, who was shocked, and asked her to help him treat the wounds. He had to hear her super-protective nonsense, but at least he would look more presentable by Monday. Thank God his father was away and wouldn't come back until then, but he couldn't let himself be seen like that, because someone would definitely tell him and Cameron would be screwed.

"Fantastic, I'll have to spend the weekend at home!" he punched his pillow "Damn McGinty!"

He was laying in bed on Saturday night! Lindsay had already called three times, but he missed. Hung up the phone and warned Winky that he was not at home, who had died of grief, whatever, anything! Lindsay knew how to be incredibly needy. He liked her, but she didn't leave him alone. Never!

He had never stopped to think about the fact that he was surrounded by stupid idiots everywhere. Stranded in the middle of a sea of mindless people. How long has he had a decent conversation with someone? Since Bryce Ross-Johnson had left the country. He was the only one who had intelligent and interesting conversations, which were consistent with his position as Adam Mitchell's son. Ellis was ok and Lindsay was a good company when she was not trying to kiss him all the time. But Fernandez and Newell? Pffff ...

He got up from his bed and sat in front of the computer, turning it on. Someone had traded his spinning chair with wheels for a standard four leg chair. That someone was going to pay for doing that, but he didn't feel like going out of his room to listen more of his mother's whining.

While the computer was turning on, he chose one of his classical music CDs. On his car he had nothing but hit CDs, to impress, obviously. But in his room he could listen to whatever he wanted and now, he wanted Mozart. How he missed Bryce to talk about real music… He chose a three string quartet and piano and let the music flow in the room.

He decided he would find an interesting company, even if it was just to chat. He usually spent whole nights in front of the computer, talking to people from college, or visiting adult sites, but he had never been forced to do it on a Saturday night at nine p.m.

He got in the college website and was about to insert his username and password when he stopped to think. If he wanted to find new, more interesting people, he shouldn't be recognized, or some imbecile would start a boring chat with him and take the fun out of the whole thing. Alright that the odds of anyone he knew being online at that absurd hour were minimal, everyone should be out dancing or getting on trouble, or whatever… But he wasn't willing to take that chance. He decided to create a new account, assume a new identity. But which name to choose? He remembered that Lindsay always said that he was not a nerd, but a hipster and decided his new nickname. He began to research the names of people online. Each name dumber than the other ... None of them caught her attention and suggested some degree of intellect than the pre-school until their eyes fell on an acquaintance.

Angel. The college website had some special pages for the interns. The one that caught his attention was Technological Innovations. None of the site's members identified themselves, they all used pseudonyms to sign their articles. Angel wrote his favorite page. Cameron didn't have much to do in his father's company. He had his own office, reports to analyze and a secretary – she was too old for him to be able to take advantage of his authority, but she was a good listener and talked to him when he was bored. However, the one thing his father demanded of him was that he kept up to date on the technological tendencies and knew how to participate with resourcefulness on the meetings where his presence was requested.

He was delighted by the dexterity and objectivity of the writer. He found the reading pleasant and the approach really well executed, even with a certain casualness. Her articles were characterized by interactivity with the reader and the jovial way to inform and entertain at the same time. But… an intern? He actually never had problems being with older woman, as long as the age difference was acceptable, of course.

Anyway, if he wanted to catch this girl's attention, he had to start by picking a nice font color. Blue was a great color. Maybe not that original, but good enough. He started the conversation:

The Hipster says: Hello Angel.

Ok, it was lame, but was there another way to start a conversation other than hello? There were a few seconds of hesitation before he saw the expected "Angel is typing a message", which only lasted fraction of second before the words appeared in green on the screen.

.:Angel:. says: Hi

He knew that kind of "Hi". It was the kind that had the question "Do I know you?" implied.

The Hipster says: I'm a fan of your work in the college website. I never miss an article of yours and always make sure I'm one of the first people to read it.

He thought about writing that he even knew the exact time she made an update, but that would be too flattery. And Mitchells definitely do not flatter. He was simply… acknowledging the girl's talent.

.:Angel:. says: Oh, thanks! Are you new here? I don't think I've ever seen you on this chat page…

Cameron was about to answer that he actually was on the first year of Administration and went to the chat page with a different username, but he deleted what he had written. What if she was a squint, four-eyed, full of acne? His identity had to be preserved. He would have to investigate her before he identified himself. He could imagine the girl sighing if she knew who was complimenting her, but he had to deny her of that until he made sure he wouldn't regret it.

The Hipsters says: Yeah, I graduated a couple of years ago in Administration. I usually don't comment on your articles, but I've been following them, and think they're really interesting, not to mention useful for my company.

The "my company" was intentional, for impact. It wasn't that big of a lie, his father owned the company, and he was his only heir. But, about having graduated… it was a tiny little lie, she wouldn't even care when she knew who she was talking to.

.:Angel:. says: Geez, it's nice to know my work's good for something! In what area do you work?

She was so modest! He usually didn't like modesty, he found it false, but in that case he was actually finding it pleasant. She took a while to answer to him, which probably meant she was talking to other people besides him. Cameron decided to charm her up and wait some time before answering her too.

The Hipster says: Technology of information. We develop corporate systems.

He had learned from his father that thing of referring to the company as a "we". He even unconsciously stuffed his chest while he typed.

.:Angel:. says: Oh, good to know! I won't ask for details of your life because it would be unfair, since I have to preserve my identity. You know, the intern thing. Stupid in my opinion, but…

The Hipster says: I can keep a secret!

.:Angel:. says: Sorry, no. This conversation may be being watched right now, did you know that?

The Hipster says: Man, they don't give you a break, do they?

.:Angel:. says: I guess not… but I can't risk to lose my internship.

"But you could accidentally let something slip, couldn't you?" Cameron mumbled with a skew smile. "Come on, just give me e few hints and leave the rest to me."

The Hipster says: How old are you? Can you answer that?

.:Angel:. says: I think so. Anyway, I'm 18.

Wow! His fingers were itching to write he was 18 too and that it was the perfect age, and…

The Hipster says: So, you must be on your first or second year.

.:Angel:. says: First year, actually.

The Journalism building wasn't the same as the Administration one, so that ruled out a lot of possibilities. There shouldn't be a lot of girls on the first year of Journalism. Alright she hadn't said in what course she was on, but that was easy to deduce. If she was doing an internship on the research area, she was obviously an aspiring journalist or reporter or whatever.

The Hipster says: Wow! And you're already doing and internship? You must like to suffer.

.:Angel:. says: I love what I do.

He couldn't stop his mind from picturing how the person who had written those words looked like. He imagined a girl with dark hair and bright eyes, with an intellectual style accentuated by delicate glasses, barely noticeable. It wasn't exactly the type of girl he usually dated, but seemed… nice? Maybe he had hit his head too hard, or maybe it was the music that had softened him. Well, as long as she had a firm belly and tick ties…

The Hipster says: Good for you, sweetheart.

Cameron cocked himself on the back legs of the chair and smiled. He could imagine her reaction to the "sweetheart". Those moments of hesitation should mean she had blushed or was jumping of excitement.

.:Angel:. says: Thanks for the compliment, but, dude, I'm a man.

Cameron widened his eyes and chocked, losing his balance and falling on the floor along with the chair.