He was making visiting Lana his new top priority. To sit at a laptop and seethe over how annoying Damien could be wasn’t going to make him feel any better. It wasn’t going to change anything. The antichrist (he wanted to say that he was one) did what he wanted to do and a newly turned eighteen year old kid wasn’t going to stop him all by himself. He wanted to kick something, wanted to knock things over or make somebody else furious about something that they couldn’t change. Steal something and refuse to give it back, catch a criminal in the act and mock him about how he couldn’t catch him no matter how hard he tried: All things that he could do, but also things that wouldn’t be appreciated by anyone worth a second thought.
Like he said, security was passed without a nod or a glance. He didn’t have any respect for Lex’s security team, if only because of whom they worked for and how ruthless they could be when they needed or wanted to be. Something fell and clattered against the floor in his wake. Hearing it collide but not break, he didn’t stop to place it back in its rightful spot. Somebody (who’s job it was to clean things up) could do that.
There was an unshakable rumble of air being torn apart as Bart took a seat across from her at the table.
“If I was a criminal I could have just wiped this place out without anybody knowing.” He was smug about that. Too smug.