A/N: I've been excited for this one since January, but life came in between and I only got to writing it now. That being said, for this piece, I will include a general content warning. This story is based on both The Lost Boys and Heathers, and will include similar themes and similar levels of violence. The second it becomes more than that, I'll let you know. Let me know what you think! If you want to be notified for the next chapter, also let me know in the comments💜
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When had things gone so wrong?
The machine beeped loudly, an unsteady rythm detected.
Voices, both men and women talking.
The bed being moved.
And then a voice.
"You're going to stay with your mother."
~~~~☆☆☆~~~~
Michael groaned as sunlight hit his face. Was the sun always this bright? God - he groaned as he turned over. His head felt heavy, his mind scrambled. What had happened last night?
Is this what a hangover felt like, he wondered, as he realised that Lucy could never find out. He'd be grounded until the end of the summer if she learnt that he'd come home drunk.
He closed his eyes as he took a deep breath, slowly exhaling as he opened them again. He had been with Star. She was wonderful. Soft, kind, funny, caring - and above all she had seemed really interested in him. He had been interested in her. So why had he no further memories of spending time with her? He vaguely remembered riding his bike, having something to eat - although he definitely could not remember what - drinking something.
After that it was a blank. Nothing. Emptiness.
As if the rest of the night hadn't happened.
As if someone had erased every memory he might have had.
It was weird. And above all, he didn't like it.
Grabbing his sunglasses, ignoring his younger brother who was yelling something about their mother being on the phone, he stumbled towards the bathroom. Maybe freshening up and brushing his teeth would help him feel somewhat alive again.
Without looking in the mirror he undressed himself before hopping into the shower. The hot water burnt his skin slightly, but his mind felt to clouded to figure out how to change the temperature on grandpa's shower. Maybe it was as simple as turning the handle, maybe he needed to change some settings - he didn't care right now, nor did he have the patience for it now. Instead he just decided to make it quick. The water had bearly touched him when he had already covered his body with soap, washing it off as quickly as he could. He grabbed a towel, drying himself off, before grabbing his toothbrush.
Now he did look in the mirror, and only saw a hazy shape resembling himself. It almost looked as if he was see-through. Weird. He didn't pay it any mind, the mirror was fogged up from his shower and he didn't feel the need to stare at his own hungover face. When he was done he grabbed a bathrobe, leaving the bathroom behind him to be faced with Sam - and a phone - once again.
"Mom really wants to talk to you."
"What does she want?"
"Dunno, just talk to her!" Sam pushed the phone into Michaels hand, before rushing off. Mike sighed, lifting the horn to his ear.
"Mom?"
"Michael! You're not still in bed, are you?"
Mike rolled his eyes. How did she always know? "No," fuck, his voice was still heavy with sleep. Now she definitely knew he was lying. He cleared his throat, before speaking again. "No. What's going on?"
"Good. I called to ask for a favour," Mike groaned, knowing what was to come. "Max, my new boss, he asked me out on a date. I'd really like to go. Could you watch Sam for the night?"
"Sam is old enough to stay home alone, mom," Mike tried. Sam was sixteen. He had stayed home alone at sixteen. Steph had too. So why couldn't Sam?
"I'd feel better if you were there with him. It's a new place, a new house... Come on, Michael. It's just one night."
Michael sighed, hearing how badly his mother wanted to go on this date. "Fine. But I am going to the boardwalk tonight. I-" he needed to come up with a lie, quickly, "promised to meet up with some guys. We're meeting around ten."
There, he thought, a compromise. Sam would be babysat till half past nine, mom could go on a date and he could figure out what was going on with him. The other end of the line was quiet for a moment.
"Alright. Just know that when school starts, things are going to be different around here!"
"Okay, mom."
Mike hung up the phone, giving his mother an easy answer. He had zero intention of going back to highschool after the summerbreak was over. He'd take nightclasses to get his diploma, work to safe for college and then hopefully actually make it out of Santa Carla. He sighed, knowing that this was not the path Lucy would necessarily want for him. Still, he thought, it was his life and these were his choices.
Speaking of choices, he walked back to his bedroom, deciding that breakfast could wait. He was tired beyond imagination, the sun was burning hot, and he was ready to fall in love with the idea of sleep. So, dressed in a bathrobe and sunglasses, he let himself fall on his matress, dozing off immediately.
"Mike, do you want some pizza?" Sam called from downstairs. Michael frowned. Pizza? For breakfast? No, Sam wasn't like that. He looked at his alarm clock noticing the time. It was almost eight at night already. He'd slept the whole day. He never had that before.
He got out of bed, getting dressed. He made sure to grab his new leather jacket, the one he bought the day before, hoping it would impress Star. He then went downstairs, taking Sam up on his offer of pizza.
Time past quickly, but despite the extra hours of sleep and the food in his system, Michael still felt like shit. So, eventhough the meet-up with the boys had been a lie this morning, slowly it turned into truth. He wanted to know what was going on.
He had noticed how Nanook started to avoid him, how bright lights hurt, how he could have sworn to hear a heartbeat somewhere... He still wasn't sure whether it was his own heart pounding in his head, or someone elses. Both horrified him.
So, when it was half nine, Michael told Sam he was heading to the boardwalk.
The boys were there already, leaning against some metal bars as if they owned the place. People walked past them, as if to avoid them. Paul and Marko were joking around about something, while Dwayne seemed to be scanning the crowd. David, however, was watching Michael approach.
The half vampire had a lot of pent up anger that came spilling out when he rushed forward, grabbing David by his collar and pulling him off of the metal bar he had been sitting on. Marko was quick to jump in, slapping Mike's arm away. Dwayne pulled Michael further back. David just smirked, looking at him.
"What did you do to me, David?" The boy spat out, glaring at the vampire.
"Nothing."
"Where's Star?" Michael then asked. He knew David and the boys wouldn't give him any straight answers, but Star might.
David grinned, blowing some smoke in Michaels face before answering. "If you ever want to see Star again, you better come with us."
Michael nodded, walking towards his bike, determined to get the answers he was looking for, when he suddenly heard panicked footsteps behind him.
"Mike!"
He ignored it, needing to get some answers. Sam could wait.
"Mike!"
Sam caught up with him, huffing and puffing as he came to a stand still. Had he run all the way here from home?
"What?" Michael snapped, but changed his expression when he saw how worried Sam looked. "What?" He asked again, kinder this time.
Michael could sense the boys looking at him, could feel them listening. A part of him wnated them to back off, to not get involved in whatever this was. Another part of him was welcoming it in. He didn't have to deal with stuff alone.
"It's Steph... she's in the hospital, she- she was in an accident and now she's been transferred here."
"What? Is she okay?" Michael suddenly forgot about all the issues he'd wanted to confront tonight. His sister had been injured. "Where is she now?"
He needed to see her. He needed to make sure she was alright. She had been in college already - what had gome wrong so badly that she was in the hospital now? What had happened? He was alrwady halfway on his bike, when a thought crossed his mind. Would the boys mind him going? Wait, he frowned, why would the boys care? Why would they have any say in it? If he wanted to visit his sister in hospital, he would.
"At Santa Carla Med," Sam answered, before adding quickly. "I want to go as well!"
Michael helped him on before racing off, leaving a surprised group of vampires behind.
"Let's go, boys," David spoke up as he watched Michael leave. The sudden news of a sister had sparked some interest in him. With Max' assignment, she would have to be changed as well, sooner or later. It was best to get a sense of her now when she didn't know her fate yet, then later.
The others followed him, sharing his feelings of curiosity. Still, it wasn't the only reason they followed.
The way Michael had approached them made clear that he was pretty far along in his transformation. His emotions were deeper, he felt more - hence the reason he basically tried to jump the boys, ready to fight them for information.
Having someone so rash, so uncontrolled and potentially so overtaken with bloodlust go to a hospital on their own was irresponsible. Now, in all fairness, the boys wouldn't care all that much about Michael going on a killing spree in the hospital. Hell, Paul would probably see it as the beginning of a great joke. 'A vampire walks into a hospital...'
But where they would accept it, or well, not mind it, Max would absolutely hate it. And none of the boys wanted to deal with an angry Max. Or any Max, really. So, they did what needed to be done, and followed their fledgling to the hospital.
They raced through town, taking some shortcuts here and there, arriving shortly after Michael did. They saw the two brothers run inside, asking for their sister - Stephanie Emerson - and her room. David looked at Marko. "See what you can figure out."
Marko didn't need to be told twice. He flew up, hiding below the open window of this Stephanie's room. He heard the door open and Michael and Sam enter.
"Steph?" Michael asked, sounding insecure. "We're here."
"What happened?" Sam asked.
"Mike? What are you doing here?" The woman had a soft, warm voice.
Marko didn't care much for the conversation, instead opting to spy on them instead. He saw the two brothers sit next to their sister, both their backs turned towards the window. Then he noticed the sister. Both of her arms were wrapped in bandages. She had some stitches on her face. She looked exhausted. And above all, Marko frowned as he tried to get a better look, she didn't seem to be fully human.
Anyways hey y'all. Been a while since I wrote but I got his the inspiration and my wife wanting this is a great motivator. So this is a story that takes place in the same world as the story I'm writing. Names have been changed and this was posted with permission. This is part one of probably two so enjoy.
Say Hello Dear Night
The sound of an engine revving down mixes with the regular noise pollution of the boardwalk. Flipping down a kick stand and stepping off his bike Marko turns to his date for the night. Her blonde hair sticking to her lipgloss and sticking out from the wind whipping through it. When the authors talk about that feeling of falling in love. Like it’s a slow descent into that realization or like a train that throws into knowing you are in love. Marko never quite thought those descriptions fit. He had never been in love sure, but how could love be so divisive? For some it’s soft and kind and others it’s brutal and painful? He never quite understood that feeling of love, never thought he could understand. Until right now.
The shine of neon lights in her eyes. The wonder that sits in them too. The joy in her smile. He had seen her before. He knew her and certainly liked her but he realised now that love for him wouldn’t be something like laying down in bed after a long day. Or like jumping off a cliff. Realizing you’re in love isn’t something you control.
For Marko realizing he’s in love was like a stake square to his chest.
Something about coming to know you love a person was like a great pain that rips you apart. That causes you agony unlike anything you could imagine. But knowing you would endure it again and again and again. No matter how brutal or unkind, you endure it because you don’t want to know what anything would feel like.
“Can you help me off?” Alison’s voice cuts through the haze of revelation as Marko reaches his hands towards her to assist her off the bike. ‘Is it weird to think her skin is really soft’ he thinks to himself, before her hand pulls away to situate herself before the walk towards the boardwalk can begin.
“Are you ready cuore mio?” He says extending his arms out for her to hold onto as they walk down the packed boardwalk. She smiles and links her arm with his. “Absolutly. And I have no idea what that means.” “It means hot mama.”
Their walk down the boardwalk takes them first to a stall with milk jugs stacks and small red panda stuffed animals hanging from the canopy of the stand. Their conversation interrupted by yells of a carny for prizes galore in three tries. “OH it’s red pandas! I love red pandas!!” Alison exclaims, stopping abruptly to admire the cute plush creatures. Typically Marko would just grab one and run but he felt like he had to impress Alison. She deserved him trying to earn a three dollar toy that you wind up paying $20 for. For her to get this toy the right way.
“I got you tesoruccia.” His arm slides out from hers to grab her hand and lead her towards the booth. “Step right up my dear boy. A dollar a try. Perhaps you can win a prize for this lovely gal here.” The way the carny looked at Alison really rubbed him the wrong way and if the way she started to retreat behind Marko was any indication, she felt it too. Part of him wanted to pull her away from this freak and remember his face for later, but the other part. The other part just wanted to see her smile again.
He pulls a crumbled dollar bill from his pocket and slams them right next to the carny’s hand, perhaps harder than necessary. “Good luck young man.” The carny says placing a ball on the counter before standing in the corner. “Kiss for luck?” Marko picks up the first ball and holds it out towards Alison and smirks. “Aww that's cute…. But I'm not putting my mouth on something literally hundreds of hands have touched” she says before stepping out of the way and giving him room for his throw. “I meant me but can’t blame a guy for trying right.” He says readying his throw.
One of the best parts of being a vampire is strength beyond what a normal human of his size could achieve. The downside is you don’t really get to use it in scam games like this because it looks suspicious if your baseball dents the milk jugs. He reaches back and takes a moment to control his power and line up his shot before launching the ball forward in a perfect arc. Time seems to slow down around it as the ball shoots forward in the center of the jugs and with a crack,
“OH! Better luck next time dear boy.”
The jugs didn’t fall. It was a perfect shot. The jugs didn’t fall.
“Wait what the hell?” Alison says, sharing in Markos shock. “Ah well. Better luck next time dear boy. WHO’S NEXT TO THE PLATE? STEP UP AND WIN A PR-” The carny begins his spiel once again before Marko slams a couple more dollars down on the counter interrupting the man's calls for more customers. “Let me go again.” “Alright dear boy. Looks like you’ve got four more tries” The carny says, placing four more balls on the counter and walking back to his corner “Take your shot my friend”.
Marko grabs another ball and prepares another throw before throwing a callus “Not your friend dude” at the carny before winding up and making another throw. The ball arcs through the air and hits the stack perfectly once again, but his throw was still not quite good enough for these jugs apparently because they stay perfectly in place.
Frustration grows between the pair as the carny only grows smugger watching Marko's throws. The blonde boy tries again. This time throwing a little wilder due to his again and this time he knocks the top jug over. Before the carny can even walk to the back to set the jug back on top Marko grabs another ball and gets ready to throw. Alison grabs his arms before he can take the guys head off and end their date early. Maybe date night can be ripping the head off a scammer some day but not right now. “Chill out. Maybe I can take a throw while you figure out how not to jump the counter. Kay?” She says before he nods and moves to trade places with Marko.
“Ah. You’re stepping up my dear?” She nods, reaching for another ball. Marko doesn’t need to look into her mind to know she is extremely uncomfortable with how this man has spoken to her. “Well then, good luck deary. Don’t feel too sad if you don’t quite get it, but I have faith in you.” The carny says with a wink before walking back to his spot. Only someone with a very keen eye or enough spite would see the slight difference in how the carny stood between this try and the previous ones. Alison winds up and reels her arm back, throwing as hard as she can. She knows this is rigged and if Marko couldn’t take the jugs out she probably wouldn’t but it couldn’t hurt to try. At least to give him a moment to cool down and prove its not just him getting screwed-
“WE HAVE A WINNER” The carny exclaims while lights begin to flash around the booth.
Somehow, some way, Alison's first shot had knocked all three jugs down, clean. The carny moves towards the rack of toys he has and takes one down. “Here you are, dear girl. One red panda for the lucky winner!” He says handing her the stuffed animal as both blondes stand in front of the booth with their jaws hanging wide open.
“Thank you for playing my dear girl. Perhaps you will play again soon? Yes? STEP UP AND WIN A PRIZE! A DOLLAR A THROW” The carny starts his calls for action again as Marko and Alison turn to look at each other. “I got this for you” Alison says smiling through her look of confusion at the present situation. “Thanks cara” He sighs out grabbing the soft thing and holding it by the neck. “I’m gonna name it Pablo” He continues looking at it and trying to bring some kind of levity to the situation. She giggles a little at the name but something in her face just sits wrong with him. “You know I'm not mad right? Certainly not at you. I’m just confused. I’ mean I hit the thing dead on three times and it only budged once but you get it in one shot? I mean you had a really good throw carissima but they for sure should have gone down before.” He ponders and she grabs his hand “I know you’re not mad. You know the things are rigged. It’s probably some kind of thing that can turn on and off depending on the person so it’s still possible to win and people keep playing.”
Marko’s muttering something to himself when he looks at the ball that's been left on the counter that he hasn’t gotten to throw yet. “One second” he hands Pablo over to Alison and steps back towards the carny. “Hey I paid for four throws. I want my last one.” “Are you sure dear boy? Your date here has already won you a prize. Do you really want to risk that embarrassment again?” The carny whispers the last part to him and Marko simply stands there waiting for the carny to move and put the jugs back into place. “Suit yourself boy.” The carny sets the jugs up and moves into position. He gestures towards the jugs with a teasing smirk.
Marko didn’t give a shit about the ‘embarassment’ in front of Alison. This was purely about wiping that smirk off the face of the scam artist that had taken far more money than he should have given him. He begins to feel something like fire start to course through him again. Power started to shoot down from his shoulder to his fingertips. That idea of honor in earning this stupid prize is long gone and replaced by a blood lust just without the blood.
He launches the ball forward and the crack echoes through the air of the boardwalk. It goes eerily silent as people begin to question if this sound is coming for them. As the silence goes uninterrupted for a few moments the hustle begins to return to the boardwalk and noise follows suit.
The milk jugs that earned this carny hundreds of dollars every weekend were not just laid out on the ground. One was dented so badly the entire jug seemed to bend in half. The second has a gaping hole like it’s been ripped open by an animal. The third one lays sadly on the ground. The carny’s shock and awe distracts him from the hole in the tent behind the stand that shows a second and third in the table set up behind his tent and the wooden fencing of the boardwalk that leads to the ocean. Maybe 30 years down the road someone will find that ball after he washes up on the shore again.
Marko reaches up and grabs one of the animals hanging from the canopy and hands it to Alison with a look of smugness only rivaled by the previous look of the carny. “I got this for you babe.” He says smiling at Alison while she tries to hide her joy behind fake confusion. “Well, Thanks for the game sir. Have a great night” He says, throwing an arm around Alison and beginning to walk away with the confidence only found in a man who knows his girl thinks he’s the shit.
“So, want me to win you anything else tonight?” Marko says while Alison looks at the second panda in her hands. “God no. I don’t want anyone else thinking there's a gun shot going off. I think I'm gonna name him Tyrone.” She says before looking at Marko and continuing to walk down the boardwalk. He just smiles at her and continues walking forward before asking “You think they’ll let us take our children on the coaster with us?” “We’ll smuggle them on”
They look at each other for a moment before breaking into laughter. The world around them is still a blur of flashing lights and screams of joy and happiness. But to Marko the world is her laughter at the concept of smuggling 2 stuffed animals onto a roller coaster. The world is the scrunch of her nose and the twinkle of her eye. His whole world was right here in front of him.
He grabs her hand and starts to lead her towards the coaster, both laughing and hollering all the way.
·:*☆ this is a commission for a friend! Hope you enjoy
✧ ⁺ 𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 ⋆｡˚ ⋆ implied stalking, Marko probably needs a warning just for being Marko, bugs in food. I'll add anything if I find smth that needs a warning.
:*☆…━━ ˚*･ॱ ˙ 𝄞 ˚*･ॱ ˙ 𝄞 ˚*･ॱ ˙ 𝄞 ˚*･ॱ ˙ ━━·:*☆
The sappy sweet scent of sea salt taffy, ocean mist, and cigarette smoke lingers thickly on the boardwalk that is buzzing with nocturnal nightlife. Sunburnt tourists, brightly Mohawked punks, and aloof sleep deprived cops wander and bustle aimlessly. The boardwalk is bathed in glowing neon light and pale moonlight, which shimmers on the horizon of dark ocean waves that crash on the shoreline.
Santa Carla was everything, and nothing that you had expected it to be.
The night was filled with the noise of music and roaring rollercoasters, the murmur and chatter of people’s voices fading into the noise of crashing waves.
You hadn’t been here long. Long enough to unpack a few of your boxes and hang up some posters and trinkets, your bed scarcely sporting more than two pillows and the thick plush duvet that smelt of home. Your old home now. The apartment still smelt unfamiliar, and you were still getting used to the hot-cold blast of the shower whenever you turned it on, or how the kitchen tap spat.
Relocating your life was going by achingly slow, but also dizzyingly fast. The rush of Santa Carla was wild- too much at times, but it was your home now. You could grow to find familiarity again, to endure the growing pains of a new setting. To look out of your window and be greeted by the horizon of sky and ocean and the cawing of gulls, it was a whole new world to you. An exciting one, but also a scary one.
And it was moments like this you felt like you could get swallowed up by this place.
Weaving through a crowd of stabbing elbows and budging shoulders was a task. The boardwalk was busy again, unsurprisingly. It was peak summer tourist time, and you were getting hit like a tidal wave.
Thanks to your height, you were able to duck and weave about fine, but being pushed around like a little guppy in the middle of a rushing swarm of big fish wasn’t comfortable either. The flimsy plastic headphones that were clamped over your ears helped lesson the nearly deafening noise of accumulated boardwalk sounds, but it made you feel a little disoriented.
Spotting the video tape store, you make a beeline. It appearing as a life raft amidst a ruthless ocean. The hum of neon glow washed over you as you stepped foot inside, and it felt like you could breathe again.
Buzzing television boxes align the walls, flashing with movie clips. You didn’t know where to look , so you gravitate towards the shelving filled with VHS’s and start picking through them. You drift towards the horror section, skimming over the cheap campy ones to find something that would catch your eye.
And then you feel it. Again.
Someone is looking at you. Not a brief glance, nor an absentminded wander of the eye at your clothing. It was a heavy lingering stare, and it prickles the back of your neck like ice. You’re too skittish to turn and look, or at least make it obvious. The thought of someone eyeing you up to possibly hurt or rob you comes to mind, and it’s not an outlandish scenario. Especially in the murder capital of the world.
Reaching for a copy of the war of the worlds, you inspect the shiny surface of the case whilst turning to subtly scope out the area. At first, you spot only kids and tourists moseying around, the odd employee walking to and fro with boxes and folders.
But then you catch it. You catch him. That bright jacket that stood out like peacock feathers amidst a background of monotone. You make brief eye contact that you unknowingly let linger before realising and sharply turning away, pretending to be interested in the price tag on the back of the VHS. Pretending that he didn't fluster you by the way he looked at you with intense awe. His eyes are expressive and almost boyishly innocent, if not for the way his irises are blown out, swallowing up the blue in his eyes.
This isn’t the first time you’ve caught this particular guy looking at you, and now actively settling with the conclusion that you now have your own stalker, you feel shaken if not morbidly curious.
He hasn’t approached you, but you often see him in the corner of your eye on the boardwalk at night, that head of cherub gold ringlets bathed in neon lights, the flash of a colourful jacket glinting in the murky dark tones against the backdrop of deep leather and night sky, and the weight of a lingering stare creeping from the shadows.
He’s always hanging around with that group of trouble. They look trouble. A handful of punks who like to make their motorcycles growl at passing tourists. Starting fights and splashing tired for fun.
They're crowded around him, all sticking together like a pack of hyenas or piranhas. Jeering and sauntering and grinning, doing so as they please. Are they a gang? Friends? Brothers? Lovers? You have no idea. But they appear close. Almost as if their souls were stitched together in a tapestry, unique threads woven together tightly.
Deciding to brush off his watchful eyes like usual, you approach the counter and buy the VHS.
Laying it flat on the sticky varnished counter top, you rummage through your purse to pay whilst the girl behind the till sorts the transaction out for you. Her eyes fleeting to the group of young men as they wander on over, a playful smile on her face as they throw a few flirty comments at her.
You freeze, feeling him walk just behind you. Still looking. He peers over your shoulder at the VHS you've just bought, and he lingers behind the group. You bristle at the attention.
The other blonde one thumps encouragingly on his back, whispering something you couldn't hear over the noise in the store. Something on the lines of "c'mon man" and "go to her".
Their eyes shine with amber, an unnatural hue, and it feels like you're looking at something otherworldly. Dangerous. An icy cold shrill prickles at your skin.
"Catch us later Marko". The supposed pale haired leader mutters, and you somehow catch it. Marko.
You leave before they have a chance to, and you feel like scurrying away. you even consider breaking out into a jog or a run, but this odd nagging feeling relaxes you all of a sudden. So you simply walk, looking out onto the passing traffic of people.
But then you hear footsteps. The scuff of rubber soles against gritty sand and cement sidewalk.
Somebody stands next to you, and you don't even need to guess who it is. You watch his little gang hop onto their bikes and drive away, watching you both with excited smirks and enthusiastic laughter.
“Hi. What’s your name?”.
His sudden approach dazes you a little, his tone is relaxed, yet friendly, and you simply turn to blink at him in a stupor. Is he really trying to chat you up now?
“…Robin”. You give him your name without thinking, lost a little in his eyes and voice and weird pull that tugs at you on the inside. You don’t flinch at it, only succumbing into the warmth.
“Robin”. He repeats your name, tasting the sound of it on his tongue. Almost savouring it. “Suits you. You’re little like one, s’what i mean”. He coos, laughing.
You purse your lips, clearly seeing he’s not a towering guy either, but you refrain from doing so. There’s something off about this guy that you can’t pinpoint, this nagging feeling about him feeling not right. Like he’s not normal, and not in a particular good way.
He inhales through his nose sharply before softening his expression. Unguarded and vulnerable.
“I like your outfit”. He murmurs softly, big rainwater blue eyes sweeping up and down over your ensemble with a flickering gaze, before an inviting smile warms his face. His dimples creasing, and he almost looks sweet. Talking to you so quietly as if he didn’t want you to flutter off.
“Thank you… I… I like yours too”. You mutter back softly, and his smile grows brighter. He scuffs his heel against the sand gritted sidewalk, and his hand nearly brushes past yours as you step aside out of the way for an oncoming person who’s speed walking through the crowd.
They push past you anyway, and be steadies you with a supportive hand, letting you lean against his shoulder. He hurls a ‘watch it!’ At them, the sappy soft look in eyes now glinting like burning sapphires, glaring at the guy who just bumped into you. He stares at the guy a little too long, sweeping his eyes over his retreating form. A little like how he looked at you just now to supposedly admire you, but this time it’s filled with something darker. Something vengeful.
"And you?".
His expression switches when he turns to you, almost deflating from his puffed up defense mode. His shoulders sag, and that approachable feeling washes over him again.
"Oh yeah, it's Mar-".
"Marko".
He blinks at you, smile faltering ever so slightly, before his eyes crinkle a little with smile lines. Flattered.
"You been stalking me or something?".
You raise a brow, feeling oddly brave.
“i was just about to ask the same question".
Silence washes over the both of you. You think maybe he's going to get defensive or aggressive, but he doesn't. He just looks at you. Curiously.
"Have you been following me?”. You utter the question you had been afraid of asking.
He pauses, fiddling with something colourful in his hands. Wrapped saltwater taffy candy. He seems to think for a moment before grinning at you like a Cheshire Cat.
“What? Me? Why would I do that birdie?”.
“I don’t know- that’s why I’m asking you”.
He laughs at your snappishness, liking the challenge in your voice.
“You’re new here, right?”.
You shrug lightly, hugging the VHS to your chest. "Recently, yeah... Why, are you a big deal around here?".
You have no idea where this casual confrontation or bravery has come from, but at this point you feel a conflicted whirlwind of emotions. Tired from working, anxious from being by yourself in a new place whilst knowingly being stalked by someone who doesn't seem quite human, and this odd sensation that relaxes you in his presence. Like you can speak your mind, something you've rarely done. Especially with strangers.
He smiles brightly, almost proudly.
"you could say that".
You're not sure why, but he sticks to your heel like a stray puppy. Even when you approach the little Chinese takeaway that you've grown a fondness to, he's still wandering by your side.
It's odd, but you can't say you hate the company. Perhaps it's just the loneliness getting to you.
Paying for your food, you sit down on a nearby bench. No way are you walking home and letting this guy know where you live, no matter how painfully endearing he is.
Diligently, he sits next to you. Leaning back into the bench, slouching. Watching you eat with. A smirk grows on his face, and you peer at him from the corner of your eye, puzzled.
“How’re liking those worms, birdie?”.
You blink at him, peering at him almost owlishly, before looking down into your takeout box.
Live, wiggling fat worms are squirming around in your takeout box. They feel warm and heavy in the container and you instinctively drop them on the floor out of surprise, but then you blink and they’re just plain glossy noodles again. All strewn on the sidewalk. You pause, brain stuttering at what had just happened.
Marko laughs, teasingly, before his expression drops at the sight of you looking frightened and then disappointed at your dinner spilled all over the floor.
“Ok what the fuck”.
“Sorry birdie, didn’t know you’d drop them”.
“Marko, what was that, how did you do that”.
"you really wanna know?". He coos softly, offering you a coy smile. Eyes twinkling warmly at you, head tilted like a guilty dog who's just dug up the garden.
"maybe I don't want to know". You speak after a few moments of suspenseful silence, and he laughs. His eyes crinkling with smile lines and his teeth flashing. They look sharp. Sharper than normal. You fretfully look away, pawing at your sleeve distractingly as you hear him order you another box of noodles.
He presses the warm box into your hands, and you find the courage to look up at him again. Conflicted. He feels so intimidating, yet approachable. You feel like bristling with fear, yet you feel like melting around him. It's strange. This magnetic pull both excites and frightens you. You speak up again, voice timid and almost hesitant.
"So you know my name. Anything else you know?". His eyes trace over your face, fiddling lightly with a badge on his sleeve.
"I just know that... You're very dangerous. And not... Not like me".
"Well, yeah". His shoulders brushes against yours, and a fishing lure bristles over the fabric of your shirt. Bright sparkly tassels against dark fabric. Like a supernova against a night sky.
"I'm not like you". He whispers, and a subtle solemnity fills his eyes as he looks at you. It feels like a double meaning, both tender and sad. But he perks up and smiles at you, clasping firmly yet eagerly at your wrist to keep walking by your side.
"But that makes it more exciting, doesn't it? I like it".
His thumb rubs circles against your wrist, and you fluster. You're sure he can feel your pulse flutter under his touch. He hasn't denied the dangerous part.
"Will I speak to you again? Like, actually speak. No Michael Myers stuff, right?".
He quirks a soft smirk at your words and slightly nudges his forehead against your temple. Strangely enough you feel at ease with it. The affection feels natural and right.
"Yeah. If you'd like me too? I'd like to".
His voice drops into a soft low whisper, and you forget to exhale for a moment. Shyly, you nod. The skepticism melts away ever so slightly as he squeezes your wrist and pulls you over to his parked bike. A bright triumphant grin on his face.
The ride home goes by in a blurry haze of starlight and warm hands. You faintly recall him urging you onto the back of the bike, patting it down and cooing promises. The takeout box is squeezed in your lap as you hug his waist from behind, and your cheek is still indented from being pressed against the back of his jacket covered in beads and badges. The rush of chilly ocean wind and evening air filling your lungs as he takes you home. You don't even recall telling him where you live, and yet he finds your apartment with no issue. You willingly decide to not dwell on it now for reasons unbeknownst to you.
He parks in front of your door, and his headlights bathe your apartment in light. He moves to squeeze your arm goodbye, but because you shyly tug at his arm a little, he eagerly pulls you into a hug. His face tucked against your neck and his arms folded and locked around you. It's eager- a little too eager at first, but he relaxes his hold after feeling you wince a little. He sure is impatient. Adaptable, however.
He pulls away to look at you. His big eyes are twinkly and soft and dark.
"Goodnight".
Your name is the last thing he utters before hopping onto his bike, revving and disappearing into the night.
The noise of several other bikes echo in the distance, followed by enthusiastic whoops and cheers.
You can't help but roll your eyes, both in exasperation and endearment.
Slumping onto your couch, now alone, you feel numb and dazed with disbelief. You feel something in your pockets as you sit down however, and you fish out a handful of saltwater taffy and a green lollipop. Your heart skips a little realising he had snuck them into your pockets when he hugged you.
“Afternoon, Michael” Dwayne greeted, hidden in the shadows. He watched amused as the four boys below him looked around in fear.
“Dw-Dwayne?” Michael stumbled over his words as he paled, “Where- Where are you?”
“You know better than to come here in the day, Mikey” His taunts echoed around them, disguising his location, “Thought Dave gave you an order, pretty boy”
“Why don’t you come here and face us like a man!?” Stupid boy. He couldn’t keep his mouth shut could he? Before the long-haired boy knew it, Dwayne was holding him by his throat almost eight feet off the ground. “Put me down, blood-sucker!”
The vampire smirked, “If that’s what you want” He dropped at his brother’s feet with a sickening crunch. Dwayne almost laughed at the irony, he had his own stake driven through his heart. “Why are you here?”
Michael glanced at the ground, “Star told me to” Dwayne’s control was gone, his vampiric form took over. He was at Star’s nest in less than a second, pulling her up by her hair. She woke up frantic and confused before begging for mercy from him. Mercy!? She had put the whole coven at risk. Without a second thought, his teeth clasped around her throat as he ripped it out. The scent of the blood caused Domi to disobey him, she too was soon feeding on the halfling. That only enraged him more, his mate was unclothed and exposed. He left her to feed but drew the curtains around the nest.
Dwayne held his hand out to Michael, “Come on, pretty boy. Don’t disobey me” The brunette took his hand despite the protests of the two young boys. “Good boy” He purred, caressing the halfling’s face. He grabbed the two boys by their hair presenting them to Michael.
“Mike! Tell him to let me go!”
“Which is your brother, pretty boy?” Dwayne coaxed the answer from Michael as he pointed towards the blonde, “Get rid of the other one”
Michael hesitated, glancing towards his brother. “Sammy, I-”
“Now, Michael” Dwayne’s order was sharp but it did the trick. Michael made his first kill in no time as his brother sobbed in Dwayne’s grasp
“Mike! How could you!?”
“I’m sorry, Sammy”
“You don’t see me killing your boyfriend, do you!?”
“And what did you think your little friends were doing, huh?” Dwayne demanded as he grabbed Michael’s wrist. He nipped at the skin until it bled, “Make him drink, pretty boy. Then he can go”
“Mike! No!”
Dwayne smiled at how obedient Michael had become since he disposed of Star, “Good boy, Michael. You’re doing so well”
He kept his wrist to Sam’s mouth until the blonde passed out, “Where do I put him?”
“Let’s leave him with Laddie. Then go sleep, Michael. The others are waiting”
Summary: Vera is an unusually vicious bloodsucker who’s never stuck in one place for very long…until a mysterious feeling pulls her right to the murder capital of the world: Santa Carla, California. Now, she needs to figure out why exactly she’s there, where she fits in amongst the boardwalk’s nighttime denizens, and how to cope with her own personal vampire-related problems. Poly Lost Boys/OC, starts just before the movie *MULTI PART SERIES*
A/N: I love the Lost Boys-- I'm a hoe for them, I'm not sorry. This is a Poly!Lost Boys x Adopted!EmersonOC, might be a series, but there will definitely be a part 2. I hope you guys like it. I also used Google to find the Homeric Hymn to Demeter, and it's up for digital download if y'all are interested. I used pages 50-51.
A/N2: This OC is a WOC, again I'm not sorry.
Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, 18+, Cursing, second hand stealing, not beta read, hints at a boner (ya gotta squint to see it lol), OC is a bit annoying but who isn't, We really only meet Marko (teehee)
Word Count: 9787
(GIF by @jordanlahey)
MINORS DNI!!!!
Chapter 1
“Well, kiddo, how was the trip?” Glancing up from my book, I pull my headset off, giving grandpa a questioning look, “Didn’t hear me, did ya?”
“Sorry, Papa E.” I give him a sheepish smile, book marking my page, as I sit up on my bed motioning for him to sit as well, “You now have my full attention.”
“Just wondering how you liked the trip over here.” He gives me one of his rare smiles, as he takes a peak at my book, “Homeric Hymn to Demeter, eh? Getting some light reading done before the semester starts?”
I can’t stop the smile that finds its way to my face as I admire the worn book cover, “Something like that, yeah… but I already graduated, remember?”
“Oh, yeah… It’s this growing old business, I tell ya. Don’t do it!” Papa Emerson furrowed his brow staring at a spot on the floor, I couldn’t help but chuckle at the look on his face, which caused him to give me a questioning glance before he started laughing himself. After a few moments, we clam down, and he pats my knee, smiling as he does.
“That was a good laugh, but as far as growing old goes, I don’t think I have much choice.”
“Yeah, yeah, that’s true. Can’t live forever.” There’s something odd about what he said, almost as if he doesn’t actually believe it. I can’t help but look at Papa’s face questioningly, as he gazes back at that spot on the floor. A beat of silence passes between us, and before I can question his words, it’s broken by Sam and Michael running down the stairs.
“Those boys are going to tear my house apart.” There’s a grumble in Papa E’s voice as he casts his eyes to my closed door, sending his own hard glare through– like he’s willing those two idiots to stop. Chuckling, I shake my head at his antics, nudging his shoulder.
“Gramps, no matter how hard you glare at the door, and try to send a telepathic command to those buffoons, they’ll never stop… Unless, you know, they break something.” I sigh as I hear Sam’s muffled yell coming from downstairs, and Michael’s panicked voice as the sound of glass reaches our ears, “See.”
“BOYS!” Mom isn’t one to yell– not to me anyway– but when she’s had enough of the bullshit, she’ll let you know, and right now, she’s done with Sam and Mikey, “If you aren’t going to help, go expel all the energy outside.”
Papa E sighs deeply, rubbing his face as he worries about what just broke. Getting up, I walk to my door, glancing out, mom’s already found the dustpan and started cleaning up the broke mug.
“It’s alright Pops, it was one of the mugs I made in ceramics a while back.” Shrugging, I sit back down, smiling at him, “I made it for dad, but I guess it wasn’t something he cared for since it's here.”
“You know, your mother is the only woman I know, that gets the worst deal out of a divorce.” Grandpa looks up at me and laughs at the deadpan look I give him.
“Well, she married a dick, whaddaya expect?... Plus, she’s just so… so…” Sneering at my hands, I try to think of the right word, thankfully grandpa pitches in.
“Nice?”
“Yes! Like that bastard made your life miserable! Be angry, have rage! You’re entitled to it!” I don’t even try to hide my own distaste for mom’s civil approach to everything, “I don’t understand why– or how she’s so calm about all this?! He basically kicked us out of the house, because he isn’t man enough to go work and find his own place to stay.” By now, I’m pacing around my room, throwing my arms around, glaring at an invisible person as I give them a piece of my mind, “Like, dude, you kicked out your OWN KIDS! If I ever see his face again, it’ll be too soon.”
“Seems like you’re picking up the slack on that anger.” Papa E, has an awkward kind of smile, as he watches me with raised brows, “How do the boys feel about this?”
Sighing, I sit back down, picking at the threads of my ripped jeans, “Sammy is only 14 and has this thought that if it doesn’t work out here, we’ll go back to Phoenix, and dad will magically take us back… and Michael… Mike thinks he’s unbothered, cool, and in control of his very fragile 17-year-old life. I think he thinks that if he doesn’t talk about it, it's not going to bother him, but it does– it bugs the hell out of all of us. I can hide it better, but this is Mikey’s own father. How do you just roll with the thought of your own father dumping you and making you fend for yourself?... That piece of shit.”
“Hey.” Grandpa gives me face for my language, to which I apologize for, “... Well, I suppose I can’t be too hard on you… You’ve always been my favorite.”
Laughing, I lightly push his shoulder, “This wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that I helped you with your taxidermy when I was 7, would it?”
“... Maybe…?”
“Oh geez Gramps.” Sharing a chuckle, I recall when mom found the two of us in his ‘secret red room’ and totally flipped because my skin was turning red from the formaldehyde. On top of that, my throat got super irritated, and I was grounded, forbidden, and banned from Gramps’ workshop– by mom, “Remember when mom came in looking for me, and her eyes totally fell on the floor from how red I looked–”
“-- HA! Do I ever– and I said, ‘Lucy, relax, we’re in a red lit room course she’s going to look red’.”
“Oh my god, YES! And she pulled me out into the living room, then grandma came in from the kitchen, wondering what all the fuss was about.”
“... Yup… She wasn’t too happy.” He lightly chuckles at the memory of grandma walking out in a dirty apron and a wooden spoon with cookie dough on it, then the calm expression on her face morphing to extreme panic. She also ‘grounded’ Grandpa, but not before giving him an earful about responsibility and how not to let children play with dangerous chemicals.
He was banned from his red room for the next 4 weeks; so he taught me to ride a horse instead… and that is its own can of worms. Let's just say that mom freaks whenever I’m close to a horse.
“I had so much fun, though, I was so annoyed that they weren’t listening to me.”
“Yeah, well, they were just looking out for you. You can’t blame them for doting on you, you’re the only girl, after all.” Papa E gives me a gentle smile as I all but forget my previous anger.
“That’s true.” A comfortable silence fills the space as we sit side by side, then I hear the faint sounds of the horses neighing, “... Can I go ride a horse?”
“What?!” Grandpa snaps his head to me so quickly, I thought he gave himself whiplash for a second, I can’t stop the snort from the look on his face, “And give your mother another conniption, no, thank you. I plan to live the rest of my days as stress-free as I possibly can.”
“Ah, come on!” I smile widely at him as he gets up, disgruntled, and making his way to my door, “~It’ll be fun~.”
“No.” He points a finger at me sternly, but I still smile at him, mischief dancing in my eyes, “I mean it, Alex. Give your mother a break.”
Losing my smile, I nod my head, picking up my book, “Fine, I’ll just do some more ‘light reading’ then.”
“What about unpacking?”
“I’ll do it later.”
Laying down, I hold up my book, feeling bored and less enthused about the move. I’m not even reading what’s on the page, just aimlessly flipping through, wondering how in the hell am I going to make living here worth it.
I could get a job to help mom out, but Mike said there wasn’t anything legal around. How does Papa E pay the bills? He’s been retired for ages, but he owns a good bit of land, he has to have some way to keep the lights on, and feed not only himself but the horses also… He does have all that weed in the back…
“Maybe there’s a kitchen hiring?... Nah, that’s not happening, I don’t even like washing my own dishes. Damn, this growing up stuff is hard.” I huff out, slamming my book down on my lap. Turning on my side, I stare at my ‘Return of the Jedi’ poster, “What would Yoda do?... Okay, well, I’m not living in the swamp, so that’s out. Can’t join the ‘Living Force’ either… I could do a Princess Leia and kill my pimp, haha! Yeah, that sounds like a great time… Nanook’s my Chewbacca.--”
“--Knock, knock.” Sitting up on my elbows, I’m greeted with my mom’s serene face, peeking in through my doorway, “Hey Pumpkin, I saw your door was open.”
“It seems that everyone forgets to close it once they leave.” I roll my eyes, but motion for her to enter. I don’t miss her ‘subtly’ looking around my room– one Return of the Jedi poster, a stack of boxes in the corner, a few clothes hanging in the closet, a suitcase open and messy, a half filled bookshelf, a pair of boots, flip-flops, and 4 pairs of sneakers thrown about the room, “At least I started… and made my bed. Did the boys even make their beds?”
Mom playfully rolls her eyes at me, sitting on my bed with a bounce, “No they didn’t, but that’s not why I’m here.”
“Then, pray tell, O’ dear mother of mine: Why hast thou entered mine sacred domain?” Mom lets out a small laugh at the way I dramatically lower my voice, answering in a high-pitched one in return.
“I have come to inquire, if thou– O’ Great One, wishes to be in attendance with thine brothers and I for a trip to the boardwalk?”
“Eh, sounds crowded.” Grinning at mom, I give her a light shrug.
“They have games.” She presses.
“Sounds loud.” I deflate slightly, losing my smile.
“Food?” She offers.
“Sounds like a stomach ache.” I grimace.
“... Boys?” She’s grasping at straws.
“Boys you say?” I’m intrigued, “Tell me more.”
“Oh you.” She hits my leg, and I laugh at her growing smile. Shaking her head, she continues, “I’m going to be looking for work, but I figured it would be a good time for you and the boys to go out and have some fun… So, would you like to come with us?”
“... Sure, someone needs to watch those two.”
“Thank you, but I just want you all to have fun, make some friends.”
“Mom… Me? Make friends? I haven’t ‘made’ friends since I was 10 years old. Besides, friends are so overrated.”
“Oh, pooh.” She swings the pillow at me, hitting the top of my head. Smiling, I dramatically fall back on the bed, “Come on, get ready, your majesty.”
“But I am ready.” I look down at my very wrinkled Queen t-shirt.
“Alex. You really what to wear those clothes?” She wrinkles her nose at my day-old clothes, then starts rummaging through my suitcase, “What about this? You’ll look so cute!”
“Mom, I hate pink… Plus, I think that’s yours.” We both tilt our heads to the side, looking at the blouse.
“Oh! This is mine. How’d it end up in your clothes?”
“I dunno.” Getting up, I pull out a cropped black and purple striped bowling shirt, “How ‘bout this, with the acid washed jeans, and… hmm… these paint splattered converse?”
“Very nice… Wait, isn’t that your father’s shirt?”
Chuckling, I look at the cut shirt with pride, “Yeah, but after it met my scissors in an unfortunate accident it became mine.”
“Oh, Alex!” Mom gives me a disapproving stare, before she smiles, “It looks better on you anyway.”
“Duh, everything does.” Tossing the shirt on the bed, I search for my towel, “Thought we’ve been over this before, mom?”
“Silly me, I must’ve forgotten.” Leaning against my door frame, she keeps her smile pointing at my leather jacket, “Remember to bring a jacket, it gets a little chilly here at night.”
“It’s like we never left Arizona.” Mom chortles at my joke, as I press a kiss to her cheek. Making my way to the boys' bathroom, I add, “I’ll be ready in 15.”
………
“So you think mom will be able to find a job in this hellhole?” I spare Michael a glance, waiting for his answer as we work our way through the crowd on the boardwalk. Part of me wishes I just stayed with mom while she did her job hunting, but I know she’d shoo me away to ‘go have fun’ and to ‘be young and happy’.
God bless that woman.
“Dunno, maybe. I hope so.” He tugs his jacket tightly around himself, as we brush past people, who are trying to get a good spot on the beach. He watches our surroundings like a hawk tugging Sam out of the way every now and again as people aimlessly walk around, probably trying to pickpockets as they bump shoulders with everyone, “If not, we need to get jobs.”
“Yeah, we know how much you guys hate working.” Sammy gives us a playful sneer, and I shove him lightly ruffling his hair in the process, “Hey! Watch it, Alex!”
“You’re such a drama queen, Sammy.” I chuckle, rolling my eyes at our younger brother.
“Am not!” Sam tries to punch my arm, but I take a big step forward, making him punch Mike instead. He gives Michael a sheepish look before running ahead of us, tugging on one of my braids in the process.
“Whatever.” I glare at Sam as he sticks his tongue out at me, while I lightly hit Mike’s chest and point to the different stands on the boardwalk, “I’m gonna go check those out.”
“What about the concert?” Sam’s face is full of childlike concern, as he looks a bit disappointed that I’m “ditching” them, “I promise not to tug on your braids again.”
“Yeah, you better, but I’ll be a few minutes, alright?” I look at the growing crowd making its way to the beach, slightly grimacing, “‘Sides, you know how I feel about crowds. If anything, I’ll be up here, and I’ll be able to see you guys just fine.”
“Alright, just be careful. Come find us if anything weird happens.” I smile at Mike’s words with amusement as he looks down at me, face completely serious, “I mean it, Alex.”
“Yeah, remember, we’re living in ‘The Murder Capital of the World’ now.” Sam smirks at me with raised brows as I playfully roll my eyes at him, turning to walk away.
“Alex.” I groan at the ‘mother hen’ tone Mike gives me, making me stop to turn and look at him, unamused.
“Okay mom.” I sass turning on my heel making my way to the stalls.
I take my time perusing the jewelry, clothes racks, and knickknacks spread across the different tables and stalls. One piece of jewelry catches my eye, when I hear someone let out a whimper, looking to my right I see a boy just got his septum pierced and tears threaten to spill from his eyes. Smirking, I walk over to the very open and not up to code piercing stall and watch as the boy admires his new bling.
“That’s a rip-off, you know.” A voice says in my ear, making me move away from the sudden voice with annoyance heavy in my features. I’m met with a grinning boy with hazel eyes, with blonde curly hair, in the most… interesting jacket I’ve ever seen— in fact his whole choice of wardrobe is interesting, definitely bold, that’s for sure.
His grin never leaves, but he ends up putting his gloved thumb in his mouth as he waits for me to say something, giving him another once over I tone down my attitude giving him a nod.
“No, duh. If I wanted an infection, I wouldn’t pay $30 to some guy on the boardwalk; not when I can do that at home for free.” Looking back at the piercing stand, I shake my head in disappointment as three girls get ready to get holes placed in their lobes, “Nah, if I want to get more piercings Imma just go to a tattoo shop.” I let out a light huff, flicking my braids over my shoulder, flashing my various piercings. The boy's eyebrows shoot up to his hairline as I send him a smirk. Turning on my heel, I continue to walk around the stalls, smiling at the sound of heavy footfalls chasing after me. Raising a brow, I send a quick glance over my shoulder as the boy crowds into my space once he catches up with me, “Personal space is a new concept for you, isn’t it?”
He doesn’t answer, just smiles widely, moving closer into my space before backing off. His eyes never leave mine during that entire interaction and under normal circumstances I would’ve freaked out, but something about this seems… far from normal, that and I was feeling adventurous. Not really the best feeling to have in the ‘Murder Capital of the World’, but I’m sure it’s fine.
“You’re new here.” It wasn't a question.
“Uh, yeah. How’d you know?” I squint at him, leaning away from him, making him chuckle at the look on my face. By now, the concert is in full swing and the fourth song plays over the speakers, making it more difficult to even hear yourself think, let alone someone else talking.
“Haven’t seen you before.” He shrugs his shoulders, moving closer to me again, causing me to continue to try to have some kind of distance between us. Just because I can’t hear him, doesn’t mean he needs to walk closer, he could just raise his voice.
“And you’ve seen everyone in Santa Carla?” I raise a brow at him as he slowly pushes us to the darker and more secluded parts of the boardwalk. Spinning on my heel, I turn back around, walking to where we just came from.
“Where ya goin’?” He catches up to me quickly, walking behind me. I stop abruptly, making him collide into my back; I have no idea how fast he was walking to catch up to me, but I wasn’t expecting to lose my balance and fall forward from it. Thankfully, he has quick reflexes and grabs my waist, halting my fall, “You alright, girl?”
“Peachy, boy.” My face is stern as I glare up at him, but that damn grin is still on his face– like he just hit the jackpot. Like this I can appreciate his features more; his smooth skin, the chisel of his jaw, the hook of his Romanesque nose, his big doe eyes— that at first glance seem innocent, but upon further inspection show mischief and danger. As the music continues to blast over the speaker, he begins swaying us to the music. He may not be the tallest or strongest looking guy ever, but that doesn’t mean anything; I can feel the strength behind his hands that seem to hold me closer to him, making me feel… the rest of him.
“Maybe I’m imagining that.” Turning to look up at him, my eyes jump from his lips to his eyes; before I look up at him through my dark lashes, “Or maybe not…”
Placing my hands over his gloved ones, I intertwine them, pulling them off of me and walk out of his grasp. He rolls his eyes at me as I flash him a wide smile, walking back to the stalls.
“I need to buy something.” I jog over to the table searching for the piece I saw earlier and let out a triumphant laugh as I pick up a small gold skull charm, “Sweet.”
The boy comes behind me, resting his chin on my shoulder, blinking at the charm with a furrowed brow. I hate to admit it, but he’s getting cuter by the minute, and it’s getting hard to think clearly with all this touchy-feely couple shit.
“You like skulls?” He takes the charm out of my hands, looking at it closely before looking back at me.
“Yeah, I like a lot of things, skulls is just one of them. You don’t know me, so I don’t know why you’re surprised.” Chuckling, I take the charm back, giving it to the vendor who bags it, but not before she shifts her gaze between the boy and me. I give her a questioning glance, but she busies herself with the other things on her table, ignoring us completely, “Weird.”
“So, what’s something a girl like you likes?” His voice pulls back my attention as he reaches a hand out to play with one of my braids. Quickly, I pull my head back and holding his wrist in a tight grip.
“A girl like me?” All friendliness is gone from my demeanor as I give him a warning glare, “Don’t touch my hair… unless you want me touching yours.”
All he does is smirk, and hold his hands up in mock surrender, but something in his eyes tells me he understands not wanting to have a random person touch your hair.
Continuing my perusing, I’m accompanied by my ‘golden noodle haired shadow’ who seems to have a reputation of sorts here, as people move out of our way, with the most apprehensive faces I’ve ever seen.
“So are you gonna keep following me or don’t have someone else you can bother?” I muse, sending the boy a glance over my shoulder. He keeps his eyes on me like a man on a mission, grinning as he does.
“Why? You tryin’ to get rid of me?” His smile grows at the playful eye roll I give him. Shrugging my shoulders, and slowing down my pace, so we walk next to each other, I link my arm with his. I don’t know why I did it, I just did, and he seemed to tense for a moment before relaxing as we walked at a leisurely pace.
“You know, I could get rid of you, but I figure why not get a tour from someone who seems to know this place like the back of their hand? Plus, I get the feeling you know where all the cool jewelry is.” Giving him a grin of my own, he nods his head in excitement, tugging me to all the small shops lining the boardwalk.
By the time we reach the last shop, I have four bags holding my precious treasures; the great majority of the pieces I bought are going to be made into necklaces, bracelets, and/or earrings– it’s a bonding activity my mom started with me when I was 8. It helps relax us and take our minds off of the stress in our lives, unfortunately during my parent's divorce, we haven’t been able to make or mend any pieces for the past 2 years.
My smile is bright and cheery as we make our way to the railing on the boardwalk, overlooking the sea of people headbanging and dancing to a very oiled up man playing a saxophone. I can’t stop the face that I make, taking in the man’s appearance, with wide eyes I glance at the boy who just laughs leaning against the railing.
“I mean, whatever floats his boat, I guess… He’s got the body for it.” Tilting my head, I trail my eyes over the performer's body, admiring the chains adorning his neck and waist, “Just wasn’t expecting the hip thrusts though.”
We share a laugh as I look over the sea of people, to find my brothers. Sucking my teeth, I turn around, scanning the ever-growing crowd. Furrowing my brows, I take a few steps forward until I’m stopped by a hand on my wrist, looking behind me, I raise my brow at the boy.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were tryin’ to ditch me.”
“Who me?” I feign ignorance as the boy squints his eyes at me, chuckling I shake my head at him, “Dude, I can’t ‘ditch’ you when I don’t even know you.”
“Marko.” Not breaking eye contact, he gently tugs me back to him.
“Really?” I scrunch my face, looking him up and down, “You don’t strike me as a ‘Marko’.”
“What do I strike you as?” There are goosebumps on my arms, as he rubs the top of my knuckles with his thumb. He begins leaning his head down towards me, but I pull back, looking up at him with a coy smile.
“I don’t know, but it sure wasn’t Marko.” The sounds of the boardwalk seem to melt into white noise as we simply stare at each other for what feels like an eternity. My eyes track his, and almost like magic I’m being pulled into those hazel pools– Oh man, if my brothers could see me now.
“Oh shit, I need to find them!” Blinking quickly, I take my hand back shaking off the haze I was in, “Well that was weird…”
Marko pouts slightly, but doesn’t make any more moves, much to my disappointment. Sighing, I rock on my heels awkwardly looking around, “Alright, well it’s been real, and it’s been fun, but I gotta go. So… bye…?”
Marko gives me a smirk as he watches me shift around, “So you are tryin’ to ditch me.”
“Well, I’m not, not trying to ditch you.” Scratching the back of my neck, “But I need to find my brothers, which means we then need to find our mom, so unless you want to meet her this is where we part ways, I’m afraid.” My tone is light and teasing as we start walking through the crowd aimlessly.
“If I meet yours, you met mine.” Marko lightly bumps his shoulder with mine, causing me to laugh at the action, “You’ll have more fun too.”
“Oh?” My questioning glance is meet with a proud smile.
“Mhmm, guaranteed F-U-N.” He drapes his arm over my shoulders, laying his chin on top of my head.
“Oooo he can spell!” Placing my hand on my chest in faux shock, I’m given a scoff and light shove.
“Shut up.” Marko rolls his eyes, but is smiling as he looks at everyone but me; it’s like he’s shy, but he doesn’t seem like the type.
“Well, maybe I can meet them next time.” Shrugging my shoulders, I stop walking, looking around the crowd for my brothers; then I spot Sam’s weird coat thing, “He wears the weirdest shit.”
My eyes shift to Marko, as I pause for a moment, “And Sammy isn’t the only one.”
“What’s so funny?” He squints his eyes at me, making me shrug and look away from him. He didn’t seem to like that, and grasps my shoulder, turning me to face him. Putting my hands up, I give him my best poker face.
“Nothin’.” I try to hide my growing smile from Marko by looking back into the crowd again. Sam looks so lost as he spins in circles, possibly looking for Mike. “Look, I gotta go, but maybe I’ll see you around?”
“I’m here every night.” He’s thrown out his line.
“That so?” And I’m the dumb fish swimming to the bait.
“It is. Maybe next time I can show you the sights.” Oh yeah, I’m a dumb fish.
“I thought I already saw the sights?” I trail my eyes over his form slowly and deliberately, when I lock eyes with him, his expression lets me know that he understood my hidden meaning.
I may have taken the bait, but he wasn’t expecting a catch this weighty.
Taking a few choice steps towards me, he stops when his chest touches mine. Tilting his head, he looks down at me with hooded eyes, “You liked ‘the sights’?”
“Oh sure! Why do you think I’ll be back tomorrow night?” I raise my chin up to him, giving him a sly smile, “How many brothers did you say you have?”
“Three.”
“Awesome, hopefully I can see three more sights.” I pause for a moment looking over Marko’s face with concern, “Just out of curiosity, how old are you– like, you are over 18… right?”
“You have no idea.” His words were mumbled, but I heard them clearly as I give him an unsure smile.
“What was that?”
He smirks at my questioning gaze, “I’m 19.”
“Oh sweet!... And your brother’s…?”
He sighs, raising his eyes to glance at the sky, like this was the dumbest line of questioning he’s ever been through, “I’m the youngest, so everyone else is as old as shit.”
“HA! My brothers feel the same about me. Speaking of my brothers, I really need to go find them. Til we meet again, Young Marko.” Grabbing his hand, I kiss the top of his gloved knuckles, giggling at his wide-eyed face, “See ya on the flip side, dude.”
With a skip in my step, I creep up behind Sammy, slamming my hands on his shoulders– scaring the poor kid– smiling gleefully at him.
“Alex!” He places his hand on his chest as he takes a deep breath, “Oh geez, you scared me. I thought you were someone else.”
“My bad, bro. You headed somewhere?” I give him some space before we walk side by side.
“Yeah, I found a comic shop! I figured you’d want to come.”
“Hell yeah, dude. Let’s go– wait, where’s Mikey?” I look around the crowd, trying to find Michael’s jacket.
“He’s following some girl.” Sam rolls his eyes, making his way through the crowd, while I’m stuck in place gapping like a fish. Once his words sink in completely, I run after him.
“What do you mean, ‘he’s following some girl’? Why is he doing that? Did he forget where we moved to?! Why am I related to an idiot?” Sam laughs at my words, giving me a look I’ve seen too many times to count, “I know I’m adopted, damn, you don’t have to keep reminding me.”
Wrapping his arms around, Sam rests his chin on my shoulder, “Adopted or not, you’re still my older, sassy, cool, and annoying sister, and I love you no matter what.”
“Alright, alright, let me go. People are starting to stare.” I glance around the crowd, feeling out of place and self-conscious about Sammy’s display of affection. Just because we were raised together, doesn’t mean everyone else knows that– it wouldn’t be much of a problem if we were the same race, but one look at us, and you know we aren’t ‘brother and sister’. Sure, Sammy and Mike don’t look alike, but both take after their parents… and I take after mine. Growing up was very interesting, but I wouldn’t trade my doofus brothers for the world.
Let’s just say, I add more… color to their lives.
“Let them. I’m hugging my sister, a few stares from random assholes isn’t going to change that.”
And they add color to mine.
I snap my head, staring at him with wide eyes, “Ooooo you cursed. I’m telling mom.”
“What?! You curse all the time!” He lets me go, glowering at me.
“Yeah, but I’m an adult, I can.” Flicking his forehead, I hand him two of my bags, “I won’t tell mom if you carry these two bags.”
“... You’re a slave driver, you know that, Alex?” He grumbles, but takes the bags.
“Consider it penance for my people.” I lightly shove him forward, as he stares at me with his mouth hanging open, “Close your mouth, you’ll catch flies.”
“What’re in these bags, bricks?” Sam opens one of the bags, peering inside with furrowed brows, “Why is it so heavy? It’s just jewelry?”
“It’s not that heavy, Sam. I only got a few pieces.” Rolling my eyes at his whining, I start feeling the weight of my own two bags… and they are kinda weighty. Stopping at a picnic table, we place the bags down looking at the contents, “Okay, so I bought a bunch of little skulls, feather charms, an assortment of beads, a few chains, and patches– wait, patches?”
I pull out three stacks of random patches ranging from hellfire and skulls, to crude innuendos.
“You also got stickers– ooooo, you better not let mom see these.” Sam holds up a sticker with a topless lady sticking her forked tongue out. Snatching the sticker from him, I quickly put it back in the bag. He looks at me, unimpressed, and the way he crosses his arms, makes him look just like mom.
“I didn’t buy these!” Gazing in another bag, I see that it has rings, bracelets, and a few earrings. Saying that I’m feeling confused is an understatement, “I don’t understand, I don’t remember…” I feel Sam’s eyes on me as I try hard to remember if I did actually pay for any of this shit. Then it hits me, “That little bastard.”
“Who?”
“Nothin’, c’mon, I’ll deal with this later.” Gathering my bags, we continue our trek to the comic shop. Once we reach, we smile at each other like the nerdy little idiots we are and go our separate ways– Sam goes right to Superman, and I go to X-Men.
All my attention is placed on finding a new comic to add to my collection, but as I pick up comic after comic, my enthusiasm is slowly fading at the inconsistency of the comic placements. It’s like they were haphazardly placed, or just put down next to the comic that “looked” like it belonged to. Scoffing, I toss the comics back, annoyed that whoever did this, literally had one job, and they couldn’t do it. Turning around, I scan for Sam, wondering if he’s having the same problem I am; with wide eyes, I see that he has a whole different problem.
Two boys, around his height and age, are basically accosting him, as he probably tells them, he isn’t looking for trouble. Gritting my teeth, I make my way over to them, ready to fight these two little bastards if I have to– and seeing this is the ‘Murder Capital of the World’, I just might have to.
“What’s going on here?” Crossing my arms, I stare down the two boys, who jump at the sound of my voice. They move closer to each other, glancing between each other and my brother. The one with brown hair squints his eyes at me, sizing me up, before speaking– in the MOST ridiculous voice– taking a step towards me.
“This is a private conversation, it doesn’t concern you.”
“Oh, I think it does.” I hate when I speak like this because I sound like such a mother, but sometimes that’s the only way to make children listen to you– and listen, they did. Both boys blink in mild fear and confusion as Sam sheepishly shrugs his shoulders. And that’s when I catch a glimpse of the comic in Sammy’s hands, “Oh, hell no. No way, no how.”
Holding my hand out, he places the comic down, giving the boys an ‘I told you so’ face, “I told them I don’t do horror comics.”
“And they still pushed this on you?” I’m annoyed– you can hear it clear as day– jutting out my hip, I place the comic down on top of the Superman comics, “Let’s learn a life lesson, shall we boys? When someone says ‘no’, don’t go and pester them, or push them into doing something they don’t want, or like. If you’re not careful, you might wind up in the pokey. Thankfully you two are young and can learn from this mistake,” Stepping forward, I jab them both in the chest, giving them a warning, “Don’t make it again.”
A few seconds of silence go by as the two glance at each other, nodding back at me. Smiling oh so sweetly, I beckon for Sam to follow outside.
“Okay, but I still haven’t gotten a comic I want yet.”
“Ugh, Sam.” Turning around, I tilt my head at him, as he pouts at me. Rolling my eyes, I hang my head, defeated, “Alright, get your effing comic, but be quick about it.”
As I turned away from the trio, I couldn’t help but hear the sounds of harsh whispering that sounded along the lines of ‘who is that’, ‘are you in danger’, and ‘she’s scary’. All of which brought a smile to my face, because let’s face it, when an Afro-Latin American woman tells you off, it’s scary as hell.
They are so lucky I can’t speak Spanish, I would’ve cursed them up and down until the coqui’s came home. Glancing at them from over my shoulder, I see that Sam does seem to be searching for a comic, but those boys are still trying to push the horror comic on him again. Growling, I get ready to tell them off, when I see movement out of the corner of my eye; turning to see what it is, it’s a group of people guffawing loudly, almost like they were intoxicated. Furrowing my brows, I watch as they laugh and sneer at… me, I guess… but they’re also eyeing the comics in the cart next to them.
“Uhm, do you know who works here?” I keep my eyes on the group of people, while speaking to the boys over my shoulder.
“Us. Why?” A part of me wants to keep quiet about what’s about to happen due to the amount of suspicion coming from ‘Baby Rambo’, but swallowing my pride, I point at the group.
“I think they’re–” I jump at the yell that came from the seemingly quiet, dark haired boy.
“--HEY, WAIT!” He takes off at the group with Baby Rambo in tow, “COME BACK, YOU HAVE TO PAY FOR THOSE!”
Puffing out my cheeks, I turn to Sam, who’s just as lost as I am. Not knowing what else to do, I point to the exit, “Wanna go home now?”
“Yes, please.” His voice is heavy as he shakes his head at what we just witnessed. I ruffle his hair, making him swat at me again, laughing I put my hands up in surrender, successfully lightning the mood.
“So where do you think Michael is?” My mind is going through a bunch of different scenarios as to what could’ve happened to Michael following a random girl on the boardwalk.
“Not sure, but if we see a girl running for her life, I think that means we found him.” We share a laugh, wiping our imaginary tears. Catching my breath, I pause for a moment, seeing a blur of blonde move through the crowd. Trying to see through the crowd, I lose sight of the blonde hair, frowning, I look back at Sam, but he’s not next to me anymore. Fear lurches in my chest as I look around for my baby brother, but instant relief washes over me when I spot him AND Michael. Breathing out a sigh, I walk over to them, hands in my pockets, “There you are, c’mon let’s go.”
Walking ahead of them, I hear Sammy chuckle, “She stiffed ya man, let’s go.”
At this I freeze, look over my shoulder with a face Sam describes as “The Joker”; basically, my eyes get wide with glee, and my smile is board line insane– according to Sam, but this is the same kid who thinks monsters live in his closet still. I’ll admit, it isn’t the most innocent of smiles, and it can be a bit creepy, but I just hit the ‘blackmail jackpot’! Who wouldn’t have an insane smile on their face, when they find the reason their brother’s being a total creep; I mean, just wait until mom hears about this!
Not moving from my spot, I reign in “The Joker” smile, glancing between Michael and the girl. She’s cute, with big brown doe eyes, even bigger brown curly hair, and she has a sweet kind of smile on her face, almost flirtatious, as she looks Mike up and down; but her smile fades away when she sees me. Raising a brow at her, I give her a smile of my own, sizing her up– unfortunately, the rest of her is blocked by a dude in all black.
Moving my attention to him, I can’t stop but smirk at the white hair he has; he gives me a once over, seemingly annoyed by my presence. At that moment Sam moves to my side, whispering something to me in my ear, but I wasn’t paying attention– he was giggling too much, and White Hair was staring at me hard. I’m not one to back down from a challenge, so I stared back just as fiercely. He shifts his gaze between Sam and I, and I guess something clicked, because the hardness in his eyes softens, and he smiles at me.
My own gaze softens as well, but instead of smiling, I squint at him, because that was a random 180, and nothing good comes from those. The sound of revving engines gets my attention, and I realize that there are more people with this duo. A brooding brunette with a child sitting on the back of his bike, who seems to be yelling at the person next to them, but that person isn’t paying any attention to the small boy; the reason being because they’re staring at me.
I’m greeted with an all too familiar grin, and mischievous hazel eyes; my eyes widen slightly at the sight of Marko, and that’s when I look over the group again. Locking eyes with Marko again, his smile confirms my unspoken thought.
These are his brothers.
He gives me a small nod, switching his gaze between Sam and Michael, I give him a lopsided grin, and a mild head bob, making him chuckle as he turns his gaze to the other blonde next to him– and this guy is… Woooo, I don’t think words can describe him. He has wild blonde hair, a black jacket, black mesh top, THE dirtiest white pants known to man, and seems to be headbanging like there’s no tomorrow.
… Huh, I described him… Sweet.
Shaking my head, I look back at Michael who is still staring at this girl like a love struck fool, and I don’t stop my eye roll. I’m never going to let him live this down– EVER! Looking down at my sneakers, I walk over to stand next to Michael, place my hand on his shoulder, squeezing it harshly. His tenses up, wincing as he finally acknowledges my existence… Well, the look on his face says that he had no idea I was there in the first place, so I give him the same look, only mockingly.
“What? Did you forget about me?” I send little glances to the girl, as she watches us with curious eyes, “That cuts deep, dude.” Michael gives the girl a sheepish, and embarrassed look as he brushes my hand off of him, and being the older sister I am, I’m going to take it a step further, “Wow, you don’t want me to touch you? That’s a first. Guess that means I won’t be sleeping in your room tonight then, huh?”
He snaps his head at me, cheeks turning red, with pleading eyes– to be fair, the last time Michael and I slept in the same room was when I was 10, and we shared a bunk bed, but these guys don’t need to know that.
So with a triumphant smirk, we watch as White Hair, snickers at Michael, and speeds off of the boardwalk with his gang in tow. Poor Michael, stands there, watching with a crestfallen face as the bikes disappear from our sights. Leaning on my hip, I sigh, watching with him for a few seconds before looking up at him.
“You know they aren’t coming back, just because you look so pathetic.”
“Shut up, Alex.” He sneers at me, bringing a smile to my face as Sam and I watch him stomp off. I nudge Sam, wiggling my eyebrows at him, “Watch this.” Sam looks at me expectantly, as I clear my throat, smiling, “~They’ll be back tomorrow night~!”
Mike stops in his tracks, looking at me over his shoulder with untrusting eyes. Sam laughs that the sudden interest Mike has now, and I smile as Mike’s face morphs into hope. He rushes back over to us, tightly holding my arms, he begins to shake me back and forth.
“Wait, they are?! How do you know?! Do you know her?! Did you talk to her?! What’s she–”
“Whoa, WHOA! Slow down, Lover Boy! Let’s just say I have a reliable resource.” I shake Mike off of me, smoothing out my jacket.
“Who?”
“Who?”
I frown at my brothers as they ask the same question almost in sync, “‘Who?’ What’re you guys? Owls?” Shaking my head, I walk ahead of them towards the exit, “Never mind who; c’mon let’s go find mom.”
Finding mom proved to be easier than we originally thought, because she was already waiting for us in the parking lot, as we neared the car, Sam started to tease Mike about how he struck out with Big Brown Doe Eyes. Mike retaliated by flicking Sam’s forehead and getting into the front seat before him. Sam whines about it, until I whisper in his ear.
“Let him have this, we have blackmail on our side.”
Sam’s face looks like it’s about to split in two from his smile, we side into the backseat, and mom looks at us with her sweet smile that crinkles around her eyes when something wonderful happens.
“I see smiles, did you all have fun?” Her voice is way more chipper than it’s been since we arrived in Santa Carla.
“Yeah, something like that.” I glance at the back of Mike’s head, as he glares at us from the rearview mirror. Looking back at mom, I incline my head to her, “But it seems like you’ve had a pretty good night too.”
“Oh! You’ll never believe it!” She gushes as she looks at each of us, we all have a pretty good idea as to why she’s happy, but we wait for her to share. Smiling even more brightly, she confirms our thoughts, “I got a job!”
“Yay! Congrats mom, that’s great.” Leaning over, I give her a hug and kiss her cheek.
“Does this mean we can get a TV now?” We all ignore Sam’s question, as we give mom her spotlight.
“Oh, thank you, sweetie. I wasn’t sure if I’d find a job, but I did.” Her smile is still going strong, and has me wondering if something more happened.
“She’s just really happy about getting a job.”
Pulling out of the parking lot, she turns the spotlight on us at the sound of Sam complaining about my ‘heavy bags crushing his feet’.
“So, Alex, did you have a good time?”
“Uh, yeah, I guess.” Giving her a light shrug, I hold up my four bags, “I got some jewelry for us to work on, but since you’ll be working I don’t know how much we’ll be able to do…”
“We’ll find time. I promise.” I match her smile as she gazes at me through the mirror; but there’s something bugging me– something about her smile that rubs me the wrong way. It’s so happy, and genuine– it’s one I haven’t seen in about 3 years– I don’t want to ask her if she ‘meet someone’ while job hunting, but the nosy part of me reaaaalllly wants to know.
“... No. Now’s not the time.” I glance at Sam and Mike, knowing that if mom really did find that ‘someone’ they aren’t going to be thrilled– hell! I’m not thrilled… but I should be, it’s just hard. Sighing, I lean against the door frame, watching the city lights blur by; the sound of bike engines has me looking around out of Sam’s window and my own I hunt for the bikers, and I’m not alone, Mike is doing the same thing, which gains mom’s attention.
“What? What’s going on?” She begins to panic a bit, as she looks at the dimly lit road, and then at us.
Mike and I share a look of mile disappointment, but reassuringly smile at her nonetheless, “Nothin’ mom, just need to watch out for bikers is all.”
“Oh, I thought I was about to hit something.” She breathes out a sigh, rolling her eyes the way only a mother can, as we continue home.
My mind is still occupied with mom’s smile and this new job, and sucking on my teeth I lean forward glancing up at her.
“She’s still smiling.” Biting the inside of my cheek, I clear my throat, “So, mom.”
“Hm?”
“This new job– what is it?” I try to keep my voice as light and as innocent as I can, but it’s kinda hard when her smile widens again.
“It’s at a video store–”
“So we are getting a TV?!” Sam leans against me, pushing my face into the back of mom’s seat. Growling, I elbow him in the gut, making him sit back wincing, “OW!”
“Back off!” My voice is low, as I glare it him, making him gulp and scoot away from me.
“-- Well, no, not quite. Televisions cost money, and I only just got my job. But if you want one so badly, you can always save up and buy one.” Mom’s genuine smile shifts into a playful one as she watches Sam’s hopefully continuance morph into one of confusion.
“But… I don’t have any money. I used up the rest of my allowance to get toys for Nanook, and we won’t get any ‘til you give it to us.” Sam is out of sorts as he goes huffs out a sigh, crosses his arms, glaring at the floor. Mom just laughs as she pulls off the highway towards the smaller streets.
“So it’s a video store, sounds fun.” I give mom a smile, bringing her back on topic, and that ‘oh so happy’ smile is back, “Which store?”
“VideoMax.” She’s beaming.
“Uh-huh– met anyone?” Calm down, Alex, again, she could just be excited about the job.
Letting out a chuckle, I shake my head, “I like how I asked ‘which store’ like I know where anything is here. God, I’m an idiot.”
“At least you finally admitted it.” Mike chimes from the front, smiling mockingly at me, to which I respond with a smack to the back of his head, “Wha– HEY!”
“That’s for thinking you were being cute.” I glare at him as mom chides the both of us, “He started it.”
“Did not!”
“Did too.”
“Guys, please! We’re almost home– look, we all just had a nice night out, let’s not ruin it with petty arguments.” Mom looks at the both of us pleadingly, waiting for our answers; rolling our eyes, we give each other stony smiles ‘apologizing’ and looking out our respective windows.
Michael and I haven’t always been like this, but I can’t figure out why he’s turned into a dick around me, but if he doesn’t change his tune, he’s going to get punched in the face. For now, I’m just going to chalk it up to the move making things different and stressful. We still love each other– we both know that, and mom knows it. Unfortunately, she also knows we don’t mean our apologies, but she’s not going to push us since we’ve appeased her. Sighing, she continues to talk about ‘VideoMax’ and her boss, but I tune her out, glancing up at the moon, the cloudy night, and the few stars that can be seen, and the body falling out of the sky–...
.
.
.
Looking back over the ocean, I frantically look for any signs of a body hitting the water, but I never see any. Blinking in confusion, I try to focus on the water again, but I still don’t see anything– it’s too dark, and we’re too far away.
“I need to get a grip, how would a body fall OUT of the sky? There aren’t any planes.” For good measure I look up searching for airplane lights, and there aren’t any. Gulping, I shake the forbidding feeling that moves up my back, settling on my neck. Rubbing my neck, I can’t help but wince at the feeling of hands squeezing my shoulders; shivering, I zip up my jacket, looking up at the sky again, “It was all in your head. Relax, Alex.”
“Yeah, relax.”
It almost feels like someone whispered deep in my ear– which would really be in my head, but it wasn’t my voice, it was foreign, and it sounded like a guy. I glance at Sam, but he’s in his own little corner of the car, probably still thinking about his TV problem, while Mike is leaning his back on the seat, eyes closed.
“Alright, so… it wasn’t either of them.” Looking in the trunk with fear and timid movements, I’m greeted with an empty, dark trunk, “... I’m losing my mind. Awesome.”
I wasn’t able to dwell on my questionable grip on sanity, because mom has already pulled into her parking spot, turns off the car, turning to look at us with that smile again. Not sure if I should feel grateful or not for the car coming to a stop, as we take that as the queue to get out and head inside; I’m the last one out, since no one wanted to help me with my damn bags.
Huffing, I pick up a few pieces that slipped out of one of the bags under the driver's seat. Reaching under mom’s seat, I pull out the last skull charm, placing it in my jacket pocket as I flip my braids out of my face, “I’m gonna beat up that little imp, next time I see him.”
I’m not so annoyed with the fact that he snagged a few things, as I am that he put them IN MY BAGS, and didn’t say anything. If he got caught, we both would’ve gotten in trouble, and I’m not trying to make my mark in Santa Carla a bad one… at least not yet.
Slamming the door closed, I start my little trek to the house, taking a moment to look up at the sky again. Smiling, I close my eyes as a breeze blows by…
“See~...Ya~.... Alex~.”
Opening my eyes quickly, I look around the fairly well lit walkway, but with a frantic expression that would have my brothers in stitches. My heart is pounding in my ears, as I press my lips in a thin, tight line, slightly sucking them in, trying to hold back any potential scream from coming out prematurely.
Not gonna lie, the voice almost sounded like Marko, but there’s no way.
Is there?
Not seeing, or hearing anything, I open my mouth ready to ask the age-old question that gets people killed in every horror movie…
“Nope, not today.” Booking it to the front door, I swing open the door, making Papa E look at me with a scrutinizing gaze. Closing the front door, and locking it, I give him a wide awkward smile as I make my way to my room.
“You alright there, kiddo?”
“Oh, yeah! Totally not hearing things in the wind or anything.” I giggle out nervously as Papa E stares at me for a few seconds with the same expression– it almost seems like he’s trying to figure me out, but then he just blinks, gives me a nod, and takes a swig from his root beer, making his way to his Red Room. I look at him confused, “Uh, okay… Good– good night?”
Shaking my head, I head to my room, tossing the bags on top of my suitcase, laying down with a heavy sigh. Taking out the skull charm, I stare into its black eyes, thinking back on the events of the night. Tonight was definitely one for the books, I did things I wouldn’t have normally done back in Phoenix. Maybe this move was exactly what we all needed, who knows what lies ahead? This is our fresh start, a new chapter in our lives where we don’t have to worry about so asshole making our lives miserable anymore. We have a chance at something great, something wonderful.
“Marko, huh?” Grinning widely, I toss the charm in my suitcase, and get ready for bed.
While I brush my teeth, I pick up my book rereading what I skipped over– which wasn’t much, “Cha’ter 3, ‘Sh-ing, O Muse o’ Hermes, t’e Sh-on of Zeus,’ blah blah blah…” Spitting out the toothpaste, I rinse quickly, making my way back to my room, reading on the way, “‘... Cronion wooed the fair-haired damsel without the ken of the deathless gods or mortal men. Now when the purpose of mighty Zeus was fulfilling…’ Zeus really doesn’t know how to keep it in his tunic.” Making my way to my room downstairs, I slip under the covers, opening my book again, “‘... In that hour she gave birth to a son, subtle of wit and wile, a robber,’ this sounds vaguely familiar, ‘a reiver of cattle, a captain of thieves, a prowler of the night, a pilferer at gates, who was ere long to make known fine doings among the immortal gods.’” Closing my book, I stare at my comforter with a deep crease in my brow, “Is… Is the universe telling me Marko is Hermes?”
Shifting my eyes around my room, I seemingly wait for someone to just pop up and give me the answer, but of course that isn’t going to happen. Of course, Marko isn’t the god Hermes, even if he does seem to be an almost perfect replica of the god.
“Even if he does have similarities to Hermes, he isn’t him at all.” Scoffing at myself, I place my book on my nightstand, turning off my lamp, “‘Sides, it’s not like he can fly.”
Laughing to myself, I close my eyes, falling into a deep and calming sleep.
Nodding with a meek 'okay', she mounted the bike behind him, wrapping her hands around his waist and holding on to his black trench coat with a vice-like grip.
Smirking at her actions and the fact that he had her embracing him from behind, the pale blond sent his brothers a cryptic smirk - a look that they understood all too well - before peeling off down the road.
The loud chirps of crickets being the only noise left in their wake.
---
The cool night air whipped across Hanna's face as they continued to drive, her dark hair flying wildly behind her as they drove through the foreign landscape towards what she could only guess was her destination; the cold air enveloping her body sending goose-bumps to rise across her arms and legs.
Behind her she could hear the cheerful hollers emitted from the other boys as they messed around on their bikes, each attempting to run the other off the barely lit roads; actions which were not missed by the timid brunette hanging off the back of the pale blond's bike, concern and admiration for the boys flashing across her expression as she turned to watch them.
"Hold on tighter." The leader directed, gripping her forearm firmly with his gloved hand; the sensation of the leather against her bare flesh casting a strange, yet pleasurable, sensation to shoot through her body.
Listening to his words, she timidly wrapped her arms around his stomach tighter, her breath hitching ever so slightly at the feeling of his taught muscles flexing under her grip.
The boys, riding closely behind the pair, watched on in amusement at the young girl's shyness, their minds filling with thoughts on the past few months without her by their side - a memory they were determined to forget, as it only caused their hearts to ache.
How could they loose her? Where did she disappear to for the past few months without leaving a trace?
These questions plagued all four of their minds every night since she went missing; the emotional torment haunting them and driving them insane. Everything seemed lost, hopeless - until she walked through the door to Max's video store dressed up as if she had only been gone for the evening. No matter how they looked at it, it didn't make sense. How could she left without them knowing? Better yet; where did she go?
Bitter smiles crossed their faces, their demeanour changing from being light heartedness to suddenly becoming sullen and hard the longer they re-lived the moments without her by their side. It wasn't until David took a sharp right turn causing Hanna to let out a shrill shriek at the sudden movement, that they refocused on the beauty hanging off of their leader waist. Each boy losing their miserable state of mind and coming back to the moment.
Travelling closer to the decided destination, the boys smirked, knowing fully well that they weren't taking her to the station like she had asked, and instead were taking her somewhere else entirely; for the time being that is.
"Wait... Why are we taking the backroads? Is it quicker?" Hanna enquired curiously over the loud rumble of the bikes, the Pale blond tightening his grip on the steering wheel at the sensation of her warm breath hitting the shell of his ear.
Smirking at her questions, he let the lie roll of his tongue, "Don't worry, doll. It's just up this road."
Uncertainty washed over her in that second, an uneasy feeling settling deep into her heart. Was trusting these boys a bad idea? How could she trust their word when she didn't even know them? Her eyes widened in fear at the realisation that she may have potentially fallen into a death trap - a death trap set up by four, unbelievably gorgeous, boys who seem strangely determined to keep her at their side.
Pushing her concerns aside in order to appear calm, Hanna took a deep breath, contemplating whether she should open her mouth to say something to the striking blond she was clinging onto. However, before she could even mutter a single word, she spotted a house looming silently over the top of the road; it's lights leading them along, like a lighthouse guiding lost ships to shore.
She stared at the house in confused trepidation; not entirely sure what was going on. Were they taking her to their house or something? Was this all a joke to try and get her to do stuff for them?
Her throat tightened at the thought, her calm demeanour that she had tried so hard to build up crumbled, along with that small slimmer of trust that she may have accumulated over the past couple of minutes for the group of bikers who had been so courteous as to offer her a ride to the 'station'.
'I guess that's what I get for trusting a bunch of strangers on a deserted backroad’, She thought, mentally kicking herself for being too trusting, especially in a time of distress.
"We're here." The Blond spoke, his voice vibrating against her chest causing her breath to hitch slightly from the sensation.
Looking over his shoulder, Hanna noticed that they had pulled up just outside of a ranch - the same one she had seen at the bottom of the road; it's exterior littered in numerous wooden carvings and animal taxidermy.
Scrunching her nose up in annoyance, she let go of the blond, her head turning to look at the other three boys who had pulled up beside her. Looking at them, she noticed straight away how their once carefree and happy expressions had diminished and turned blank; void of any emotion.
Unnerved by their change of attitude, Hanna began to dismount the bike, the blond reaching a gloved hand over his shoulder to aid her safely, "Thanks." She muttered, planting both of her feet onto the dusty driveway.
The blond looked at her with a undecipherable look, his head tilted to the side in what she could could only guess was - expectancy?
Feeling the awkwardness brewing, Hanna decided not to bring up the whole fact that the boys had led her to a random ranch in the middle of nowhere - something which usually happens in horror movies - and began to walk towards the house; hoping that maybe the person who resides there isn't a psychopathic serial killer.
As she slowly moved away, the boys watched her go with intense stares, idly drinking in the sight of her as she widened the distance between herself and them. However, it wasn't long before they watched her double back with a new sense of resolve in her step.
"Okay, no. I was going to let it slide and just accept all this, but I can't. What the actual fuck? I said I wanted to go to the Police Station - not somebody's random house!" Her voice was hard and riddled with irritation, her soft brown eyes now cutting into the boys like a razor.
Fighting back a laugh, the boys looked at her in pretend confusion, the blond leader stifling a smile, "What do you mean?" The blond sent her a knowing smirk, "You said you wanted to go 'Home', so we took you home."
She froze.
Did she seriously tell them she wanted to go 'home'?
It was then that realisation hit her like a ton of falling bricks. Not only did she forget to tell them that she wanted to go to the Police station, but she did indeed tell them that she was on her way 'home’.
How could she have been so stupid as to have trusted a gang of shady (but also unbelievably gorgeous) bikers? Was this night going to get any crazier?!
The longer she stood there thinking about it, the redder her cheeks became. That was, until one small detail stuck out.
"W-Wait, how do you know where I live? I don't remember telling you..." Her voice trailed off slowly, her dark eyes scanning each of their faces and watching as their darkened expressions turned into something shy of amusement.
"Chill out doll." Smiled the long blond rocker, leaning back slightly on his bike and revealing his ripped up mesh shirt; his short retort earning a small snicker from the other blond who sat on his far right, tight golden curls brushing softly across his back in the warm night breeze; his glove-free fingers loosely gripping the handlebars.
"Sure you don't," Replied the curly blond sarcastically, his green eyes settling squarely on her face which was laced with nothing but unsureness over their carefree replies.
"That's enough," The pale blond announced tightly, shooting the two boys a look which made them look away. Turning back to the young girl, he spoke with a sense of resolve, "If you're so on edge about where we dropped you off, why don't you go and knock on the door?"
She scoffed, "No way. How do I know that this isn't some trick? I don't even know you." She finished, her arms falling to cross over her chest, accentuating her curves in a way the boys tried their hardest to look away from.
Her words struck a nerve in each of them; their eyes widening slightly at the sincerity in her honeyed voice.
No way could that be true.
With a hard expression pressed onto his handsome face, the blond leader spoke, "You know, after disappearing for months on end with no note or letter, I would've thought you would've dropped this 'clueless' act by now," He paused, his ice coloured eyes shamelessly raking over her body, causing her to grow slightly weary from the coldness now lurking in their relentless depths.
Compared to earlier, their gazes melted her and caused electricity to course through her veins; but now all she felt was frozen shards stabbing into her soul like tiny razors. How could such beautiful eyes hold so much coldness?
Before she could even conjure up an appropriate response to the boys mind-boggling words, a sharp click of a shotgun could be heard from the top of the house's porch, followed by the sound of an angry old man as she called out towards the group of boys sat idly in front of the ranch gates.
"What are you punks doin' 'ere?! Scram!" The mans voice was croaky and thick, as if he had just rolled out of bed, "Get outta 'ere!"
With a brief glance towards his gang, who all began to laugh at the old mans appearance, the blond leader shot a wink towards Hanna as she stood there silently panicking about the furious old man with a gun behind her, "I'll see you soon, and don't try to run, we'll find you."
With that the boys took off, peeling out of the driveway one at a time, each one giving her their own form of a goodbye; the dark, silent one sending her a small smile and a pair of finger guns, and the tall blond rocker sending her numerous kisses and a wink; something she was slightly taken aback by.
Watching the three ride off, she didn't realise the last boy swing up beside her until he pressed his cold lips against her ear,
"Goodnight, Hanna."
She jumped as his cold breath caressing her bare neck, sending hot tingles down her body.
Before she could mutter a word, he had already taken off behind his friends; sending one more teasing look over his shoulder as he rode into the night.
Silence fell over the area as the last headlight from their bikes disappeared into the darkness. The only sound echoing in her ears was the erratic beating of her heart as it nearly leapt out of her chest.
Who were these boys? And better yet, how did the curly haired boy know her name? So many questions danced around her head to the point where it started to make her feel dizzy. Did she also tell them her name without realising it, too?
Not understanding what had just occurred, Hanna covered her face with her hands. Her mind overloading with too much information to take into consideration where she was, or who was standing directly behind her, for that matter, until the person behind her asked her a question that caused her heart to momentarily stop inside her chest.
