I heard her sing,

even though the radio doesn't exist in my scene.

Empty, gaping hole in the center of my vehicle.

I don't need the reminder, I can hear her all the same.

"Christmas..." and her bringing the 'time for cheer'

"Christmas..." and it's fucking so near.

"Christmas..." and with family and all...

"Christmas..." I can't bring myself to love any of it all.

I couldn't bring back the memories.

I think they chased me up here with the way it seems.

Closing my eyes, I can hear that old hag scream.

Nay-sayers, just saying that they don't believe.

No one wants to hear it. I get it, all day.

Some already out in full joust, just to say.

"Be kind. Be merry."

And I agree with their fight.

"It's hard for many," but not just those in the retail 'delights.'

I'm up and I'm down.

My mood is floundering around.

My neck is sore and raw.

A red scarf of immunity all gone wrong.

If it isn't my kidney, it's one thing or another.

I'm just another adult on the ride of the holiday sputter.

It'll be over in a flash.

Thirty days.

More like thirty lashes.

But it'll be clear, there won't be much more of this damn holiday cheer.

Why am I like this? Why do I go out?

When I know that there's so many people about?

I want to stay in, shutter out the whole world.

Something says in me, "go on, be brave and be bold" but I don't want to be the one with a gold soul. It's gold on tar black. My mind's a broken and chipped glass.

The whip has been whupped, and my candle has slumped.

For Christ's sake, someone take away all this decrepit-ness, and let me breath a sigh of quiet relief.

No more religion.

No more mental chess.

I just want to close my eyes, breath in and just say. "No more winter," and just spell it away.

I don't care if I'm green in the face, where I am grim.

Take away the holiday, take away the pressure.

Let me go free, let it all stop building up pressure.

I wish I could open my eyes after that and successfully say,

"No more winter, yeah... I feel better now." No, instead, I open my eyes and the world looks a tone grayer. I'm the next step from the holiday drinker. The one who's a PTSDer with a yellow light blinking, that check engine light's still on honey. Yeah, I know. And I think it... Think it might have been on, since a long long time ago. Maybe on as long as my truck. We go back a ways, maybe we both need a bit of time into the shop.

Iron out the kinks, replace all the broken links.

I wish I knew where else I was going with this, but I think I'm just ready for a drink.

Are you?

I bit the big one when I took a drive deep into the city a few weekends back.

The police,

as per usual,

on the job, but out and enforcing strong. He looked at me from the side of my car, though I didn't look at him, and I had a fuzzy feeling he'd be jumping behind me.

He did.

Took him not even a second to light me up.

"Do know you have expired tabs?"

"They're not expired. I lost the sticker."

And without much other toggling, he went around to his computer and came back, told me I could pick up new ones - which I wasn't aware - and went on his way.

No later than twenty-four hours later, I was met with another.

God, this must be some sort of self-induced karma.

Either that or life has a way of clapping back at me when my health starts to finally resolve.

"You were going fifteen over."

"No sir, I was not."

"Well, I caught you on the radar."

"Alright, well, I'll take it up with the court."

He hands me my ticket and I'm on my way.

The night is starting early. Twilight ringing into the evening on a black-stained starless sky no later than five pm and I'm already trying to find my way out of the soul-sucking dark before the depression seeps in.

Drying my eyes, I blink away.

"He's doing his job," and I drive on. My heart isn't in it, but I buy my used supply and hobble my way home.

As you would have it, I was already struggling with a fit of lack of sales to compensate for my attendance at a set of few events in the local area. My savings dwindling, and my heart aching already. I was holding onto every last bit of hope my breath would allow me to take, but it was all dashed.

Dashed away and I was struggling not to let the holidays sweep me away with their highs and their worst of worst lows.

"It's just a stroke of bad luck. It can get better."

Not much better, I should I amended no sooner than a week later.

A smashed bottle of glass in my hip bag.

A couple smooth cuts to my fingers with the sweet sweet symphony of my hollers at the behest of my fucking intellectual knowledge to disinfect it... with liquid antiseptic.

I pitched a scream for a few weeks, bandaged myself up, and maybe kicked my hitch trying to walk around it. I don't know. I lost count.

Stepped in deer shit trying to have a slight bit of fun with my daughter, dragged it into the house, and thankfully my husband was kind enough to drag it back out and wash my boots off.

Now here, I might have thought. I can turn my mood around right. I can sit up, take the adulting and just chalk it all up to my inability of being aware of my surroundings.

Well, I got hit with a few more doses of reality. Burnt my microwave out with a defective pie, and then might as well have stuck needles in my eye since I ingested some form or the other of an allergen that led me to the Urgent Care in a matter of less than a few hours time, only to be bounced back and forth between two pharmacies.

"I'm so fucking done." I might have said in some tune, or shape or form in dramatics to try to get a rise out of myself, to laugh. Something! I need a fucking reprise to help lift my mood, but god dammit, in my eyes. I hate the lies. I hate the festivities, the holidays, and all that it drives.

The people are foul. The moods are shitty, and looking at Christmas ornaments reminds me of the childhood that makes life feel gritty. I wanted to bring myself into some form or the other of a hope, that I could drag myself together for not one, but three children, put up an effing tree and say, "it's for them" and I can't. Out of all the holidays, I hate the most. I hate hate hate... Winter. Christmas. The things everyone gets so hyped up for. I can barely bring myself to dress for Halloween anymore.

When did I lose myself? When did the holidays start to feel so drought? My husband doesn't even like them, wants nothing to do with them, but in my children, I know that they are like fire light. They see all the sights, hear all the happy memories flow from their peers, too and fro. Fuck me for not trying hard enough. God damnit all. I could do more. I want to, but every time I touch it, I abhor it all the more.

God damn these fucking holidays. I'm so burnt to hell.

I might as well crisp myself over the fire, because I know I'll never do this god damn holiday well. Do it justice, do it right.

I'm just in for another fucking fight.

I stared at my plate ahead of me, wondering if I could shove down this food in the face of my wood-be stalker… or, whoever the fuck was ogling me from behind to pick up the roll of silverware so I could poke at it with my fork.

“Don’t taunt the food.” I heard one of the twin’s say. I wasn’t sure which one, but I felt one corner of my mouth twitch up.

“Make me, Mom,” I shot back. I wanted to say more, but I couldn’t conjure forward any better of a response before I finally sat up, leaning forward to shove the fork into the shelled pasta then lifted it to my mouth. First bite went in as smooth as rock candy on the tongue. I chewed it tentatively, pushed it to one side of my mouth and started to stuff my face with another before making a choking cough that turned into a gag.

I tried to push past it, figuring it was just the texture, and continue on. Again, I attempted another swallow. This time… I wretched. The audible noise that fizzled out from between my lips as I tried to hold them tightly together won out, and I grabbed a napkin from the centerpiece to spit it all out.

“Told you,” Topher reminded me.

I wish I could have told him off, but I was still too busy tasting the napkin, and likely eating it as I wiped my tongue.

“Should have just taken our advice,” Mik lamented as he leaned forward to casually continue eating and I turned for the drink. Topher sat forward, but not faster than Mik who was pushing it out of reach and my hands barely slid across the cold class, nearly landing in my plate.

“Give me it!”

“Nah man, that’s just going to make it ten times worse.”

I was almost in tears, wanting relief, and I reached for it again to no avail. It felt like torture, but I knew in the back of my mind, this was likely the best choice. God, I hated it though! After a moment longer of agony, my voice slowly started to rake hoarsely through my throat as I felt the nagging Hunger hit harder. My hand seized the cloth over my chest and I tried to fight back, keeping my mind intact as it all sank in.

I didn’t realize that I’d fallen over, my leg curling up awkwardly against the footboard of the seat as the other struck Mik.

“Hey, chill out-” Topher warned.

“Fuck!” I screamed, my voice raw. I felt like I was losing it. Dammit! I shouldn’t have ate something this afternoon! I should have choked down a pack, something! It was so late. Too fucking late, and I almost gave a strangled yelp for one of them to stop me before the crowding black around my vision came surging forward as I heard the tableware clatter roughly.

Someone snagged a hold of my arm, dragging me out of the seat, another hand hefted me upright by the collar of my shirt in a death grip and I couldn’t tell if it was both of them or one of them, but the whole restaurant flipped upside down like someone had thrown me, and the force felt like I was going fast enough that I was going to impact something before the blaring lights blazed in glorious painful stars of white and warm ambers before black washed over me, and I sucked in another breath noisily.

“Move him out from under your arm and pick his ass up, he’s not going to stand on his own,” Topher’s voice bled in.

I moaned out a response, instead of actually articulating some sort of audible word as I felt my body ragdoll over someone’s backside, my arm tagging sharply forward and down before the tension eased and I felt my feet drag slowly from the ground until they were dangling.

“Get a move on,” Topher’s voice said, sounding urgent.

Was I supposed to be running?

“Is she gaining?”

“Fuck yes she’s gaining! Quit looking back!” he snapped. “Walk faster.”

“I am walking faster!” Mik snapped back, and I felt the smooth ride start to become more jostled, and my throat welled tightly.

I think I’m going to hurl. My eyes rolled, barely able to take in my surroundings anymore before Mik cursed.

“She’s gaining! Go right! Go right!” Topher urged. “Wait, no– left!”

And my body jostled, almost nearly sliding forward into what felt like me very nearly getting pitched forward. I didn’t think I could handle much more. I wanted to beg them to stop, the Hunger aching and gnawing at my insides as I tried to force myself to regulate my breathing, but I was losing it again. “Nooo….” I ached out, but my subconscious was doing all the articulating, not my brain.

“Shut up, Julian!” Mik rasped. “Shut- FUCK!”

“Finally,” a female voice firmed. “You can stop hiding.”

“You’re not supposed to be here,” Mik said hoarsely.

“Says who?” she asked.

“It’s not your territory.” Topher affirmed.

“And he doesn’t belong here,” she pointed.

“He’s part of Red’s Coven, so you can kindly fuck off.”

“I wouldn’t get that tone with me,” she warned.

I could hear Mik growling under his breath, and the rumble of his voice reverberated through me as I pinched my eyes shut.

“Leave him alone,” Topher growled. “Fucking old hag.”

She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “You really feel bolstered right now, being in territory, thinking I’m just going to simply let you go.”

“If you start shit, there’ll be shit, whether we win or lose that fight won’t matter for the amount of shit you’ll stir up. Fuck. Off. Amelia.” Topher growled.

“He’s my grandson, I have a right to get to know him.”

“The fuck you do!” Mik told her.

I winced. Dammit. Of all the people— It had to be her. My mom warned me about this, that when it came time for me to be mindful of my surroundings, to not go around at night. I’d been so thoughtless and careless today, on more than one occasion, that I couldn’t even remember if I’d properly masked my hair from its usual color. My stomach twisted wildly, and I knew that this was going to be an even worse night with this situation until I heard a holler that sounded almost like a bark. I peeled open my eyes in time to see Topher shift, jumping at Amelia as she disappeared from my sight momentarily. If it weren’t for the white, I wouldn’t have been able to trace her as she landed neatly on top of the dumpster a few feet from us as Topher hit the wall where she had been moments ago. He turned on her, but didn’t advance, growling sharply as his midnight black fur covered the muzzle of his face nicely, only allowing the white of his teeth to shine through between his blackened gums.

“Red’s already on his way,” Topher warned her. “Leave.”

“I think I can count time effectively,” Amelia sighed, tossing her hands up. “Though, I’m not afraid to get a little dirty. Don’t worry, I won’t kill you.”

“She can’t be serious,” Mik rumbled under her breath.

“She is,” Topher hissed out between his teeth, sounding more irritated that I remembered him ever being. The black mass that I could barely comprehend was him crossing those few feet in mere steps, slamming into the dumpster before he was picking it up to throw it while she was still on it. Her balance teetered, but I could tell from the look on her face… She was enjoying this.

“Always aggressive before investigative!” she laughed, pushing off the top of the dumpster as it twisted in the air, turning upside down to crash into a wall, taking a huge chunk out of it.

My eyes slowly tried to trail up, but I couldn’t track her much further since my body refused to comply, but I could hear her laughing and shivers racked me. What did she want with me? Was I going to get kidnapped?

“Well, tell you what– You tell my great granddaughter that she has a deal to uphold,” she told us, her voice distant but somewhat sounding like it was coming from above.

“And you run to Red, tell him that I came, and that I am demanding my Coven be restored as it was because he’s breaking his own rules.”

“Like Hell!” Mik shot, his voice echoing through the alley.

“I’m not going to stop,” Amelia told them, “but I’ll retire for tonight.”

When the tension in Mik eased, I almost passed out. “Fuh-hu…” I whimpered, completely starved.

“Yeah,” Mik rasped. “I know.”

“Is he still conscious?” Topher asked, slowly coming back over.

“I think so.”

I wanted to answer them, but my body felt heavy. I could feel myself slipping out of it, and my eyes watered as I tried to stuff back the whimper building in my chest before my eyes closed for the final time.

I tempered myself, glancing up at Topher, watching him type a few things, let off the screen, then slowly start to furiously type back. “If you have somewhere to go, you can go,” I urged. It wasn’t like I felt particularly interested in being teased right now.

“Nope,” Topher told me confidently.

I hated that. Instead of feeling like I was hanging out with friends, it felt like I was being co-opted by two older brothers who had no intention of letting me run off. “You guys are assholes,” I muttered, glancing at Mik. “Move out of the seat and let me up.”

Mik looked at me. Just… looked at me. That despondent stare with the glazed over look in his eyes said it all.

“Move!” I snapped.

“Make me,” Mik told me as he reached over to the tiny miscellaneous tray to pluck a toothpick from the top of the pile. He put it between his teeth, chewing at it before letting it leave his fingers as he flipped it around between his teeth. “Order something.”

“I’m good,” I growled.

“Order something and quit bitching,” Topher told me in agreement.

“Why do you guys always have to overlay each other?” I snarled. “Doesn’t it get old?”

“No,” Mik retorted cooly. He turned blue-brown eyes on his brother and smiled.

“How much money do you have?” Mik asked Topher casually.

I knew then they were ignoring me, and my frustration started to mount as I reached to grab for Topher’s knife holstered at his hip. He smacked my hand off with ease and I tried to shove him out of the seat. Futile. “Fuck!”

“Relax, J,” Topher relayed calmly. “Get your blood infused whatever, see if you can choke it down and then we can go. You came here… No use in popping up to go bounce somewhere else. Where would you even go in the first place?”

“I’m not going to be taunted and teased!” I told them hotly, accidentally letting slip the very thing I should have kept to myself. Fuck! Fuck… Dammit. Why the hell did I say that?

3…

2…

1.

And that was all it took for me to regret it.

Topher’s eyes snapped sharply from his phone. I could see the interest and curiosity starting to light up those bored eyes as Mik also slowly smiled. No… God, what have I done to myself? The twins looked at each, sharing some wordless agreement before Mik sharply turned to me.

“What do you want, J?”

“Fuck off, Mik,” I snarled, my voice going high. I couldn’t even close down the emotions jumping forth.

“He’s pissed,” Topher commented.

“Very.” Mik agreed.

“DAMMIT!” I grabbed Mik’s shoulder, trying to shove the wolf down, but he pushed me off, laughing before giving my face a light pat as I smacked his hands away. “I’m not a little kid anymore, knock that shit off!”

“Oh, you’re a kid,” Mik told me. “You just don’t want to admit it. You want to be an adult like the humans are, but you and I both know that isn’t true.” I felt him go to pinch at my nose and I socked his hand with my fist instead of trying to bat it away, but that was another useless attempt since I sorely missed the swipe. My eyes glowed bright crimson. I could feel my pupils dilating and the Hunger sort of ebb in as my blood started to heat my face, ears, and parts of my chest and down my neck. “Mik,” I growled in a warning.

“Hit him,” Topher goaded lightly.

“I will,” I ground out.

“I dare you to try,” Mik challenged, his eyes lighting up.

I reared back, ready to do exactly that as the waitress slowly rolled in, and suddenly I was feeling more foolish and foolhardy than confident and assertive. I deflated, slowly sinking back into my seat as she regarded us all with the clear of her throat.

“Are you all ready?”

“Yup,” Topher chirped.

“Completely,” Mik added, turning to look up at her. His eyes brightened a little and he tilted his head to the side, smiling smoothly at the woman.

“No,” I grumbled.

“Why don’t I give you some time to look over the menu and I’ll take their orders first?” she asked.

I rolled my eyes, knowing that she was essentially giving us the short-version of, ‘knock it the fuck off jackasses’ in a nicer way. I kind of accepted it though because it meant the twins were going to lay off me for a second. Breathing out slowly, I felt the tension ease out of me as the twins accounted for whatever ravenous craving piqued their interest. Shortly after, I rattled off something random out of the menu to speed it all along.

When she left finally, I slammed my forehead against the table, wanting to give it a couple more goes, but also not go on for an encore of the twin’s wrath any longer.

“Don’t you both have something better to do?”

“Nope.” Topher told me, leaning forward as he pressed his forearm against the table. He turned eyes down onto me, his voice lowering as he spoke again. “But you could always give a stab at that waitress… You know, for a first bite? She’s pretty young.”

“Stop!” I groaned, turning my head into the table. “God! Just stop!”

“Is this bullying?” Mik asked Topher lightly, a curious note in his voice.

“Does it matter?” Topher answered roughly, his gaze flicking up from me much to my relief.

I could feel their attention shift focus as the two continued on. God, who knew how long they dwindled on, but I tuned them out. I was stuck in this seat, and if I tried to jump over the back of this fucking thing to get away, Mik would be quick to grab my shirt and either tear it from my body or slam me down in the seat, and either was probably preferable to them.

I couldn’t imagine embarrassing myself any further, so I just settled in. My body slumped forward as I damn-near melted into the table, my eyes flicking from the twins to our surroundings before that weird feeling hit me again. Were we being watched? I sat up, my eyes scanning the room slowly before I felt a sharp elbow to my ribs, making me grimace. “Can you kindly fuck- off?” I snapped at Mik.

“Don’t look over there,” he told me quietly.

“Why the fuck not?” I bit out, my voice still loud enough to catch from probably the next seat over.

“Because you’re going to draw her attention, now shut up and relax. Food is coming.”

I turned to look at him, really look, and when our eyes met, I saw the seriousness in them and settled in a little more. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I whispered, trying to act a little less pissed.

“Don’t ask me stupid questions out loud,” Mik answered in almost annoyance. “You want to ask something…” he nodded to my phone.

I almost rolled my eyes. Started to, but blinked away the reaction to quickly lean back against the wall as I started to shuffle my hand into my back pocket and yank my phone free. The moment I engaged my power button to unlock my phone, Topher’s messages hit the top of my screen… Already there.

Not too bright, are you?

I almost was tempted to elicit the sharp dirty look that warranted, but continued on.

You walked here? Or drove, because you brought yourself company and they’ve been staring at you the entire time.

My nerves rattled from the last sentence, and chills rocked me as I let my phone screen dim. My hands came up to the back of my neck and I shakily pressed my palms there and down until I was sliding my hands under the collar of the back of my shirt. Fu—ck.

I didn’t have the balls to send Topher a message, my mind was racing, but all I knew was it probably looked like it was more than obvious that I was freaking out, because— I fucking was. My hands rubbed at the back of my neck roughly until my skin hurt, my shorn nails nearly digging in when they otherwise shouldn’t have been able to.

“Let off the gas,” Topher told me.

“I walked here.”

“And we have an extra helmet,” Topher told me. “Relax.”

“But what if that’s not going to– I mean, I just… Ah, fuck. What did I do to deserve today?”

“If you keep panicking, we can always start talking about the strip club your cousin’s husband has. It’s new.” Mik offered.

“No,” I groaned, pushing my palms into my eyes. “Stop! Stahp!” The word was more drawn out, hardly sounding right, but it expressed my agony well enough. “Fucking stop! Let me think.”

“Been doing that,” Mik rumbled candidly before I took in a tight breath.

“Okay, you guys want to really help me out? Call my uncle- er.. Cousin, your uncle… Whatever. And just get them tossed out or something. Can’t you do that?”

“Is this one of Sin’s joints?” Mik asked Topher, turning to look at him.

“I don’t know, that’s your job to know that stuff. That’s not my thing to keep tabs on that.” Topher answered Mik, shrugging.

“Why do you always make me figure it out?” Mik rasped.

“He’s your uncle. I claim no such allegiance,” Topher told him. “He’s mom and dad’s friend. That’s it.” Topher put his hands up as if staying out of it. “Well– more than that, but still.” Topher cleared his throat as the waitress came back and he leaned forward to pick up the drink from the table, taking a few large swallows before setting the glass back down.

Mik stared at him. “You just don’t want to call anyone.”

“Yeah,” Topher agreed after a moment of silence, nodding. “Yeah. I don’t. I already had to text mom and dad, you can do some dirty work too.”

“Such asinine,” Mik bemoaned. “You were just asking Red for some side work for pocket change last week. Where the hell did that fealty go?”

“Oh, I have it. I respect Red a lot. I’m just not interested in making a phone call in a diner.”

“It’s a restaurant,” Mik argued.

“Cafe,” I gritted out.

“No, pretty sure it’s a restaurant.” Mik argued.

“And you’re stalling,” Topher laughed hoarsely, looking away from the both of us as he crossed his arms.

“Can I get you guys anything else?” the waitress asked.

“Him,” Topher nodded at me. “Yes.”

“Oh, come on,” Mik told him.

“You don’t need anything else,” Topher told Mik, raising a brow at him.

“You don’t get to make that call,” Mik argued back, much to the poor waitress's ears. She was just a victim to the two of them at this point.

“Um, I’m sorry?” she asked, clutching the tray to her chest. “Uh–”

I knew she was trying to be polite, and just shook my head, unable to articulate a quite solid response for what I could imagine was equally, if not more embarrassing to her.

“We’re fine,” I choked out. My gaze slid from her, unable to meet her eyes before she slowly started to leave and I let my legs push against the span between the two booth seats until I was kicking the bottom of the other side of the table arrangement.

Stretching my legs felt good, and while I wasn’t exactly the tallest in the group, I wasn’t short either. I leaned back, trying to wrap my head around this all as Mik dialed up my cousin, and I tentatively listened to him on the line. I could hear the sharp tick of Red’s serious voice bolstering a firm, but pointedly, ‘Where are you?’ followed by a few other questions just grabbing details.

My eyes widened after a moment, blinking as I tried to clarify my gaze on the ceiling before it shifted to the lamp above.

“It’s not ours,” Red’s voice said over the phone, “but we can still be there.”

My heart started to hammer in my chest. There was going to be a confrontation. My cousin was going to come down and start shit with this person. Holy hell… I couldn’t believe my ears. Was it even worth starting? Was this person that much of a nuisance? I wasn’t sure, but I knew Topher and Mik weren’t going to let me turn my head around to rubberneck and find out.

Mik wasn't exactly as stoic as he came off, but to some unsuspecting stranger, they were as good as dead if they thought they'd pull one over on him. Of course, that wasn't as simple as it sounded. Mik and Topher came from two prominent figures in society, and one of them was as close to the original vampire that started our entire species.

The grant total? Three beings, which gave no fucks about upending your mortal or immortal life, and one who absolutely enjoyed the gore of it. I shivered at the thought of Mik's mom, before making a mental note that I still didn't want to cross paths with their grandmother.

I had never met her, but the idea of woman that stood taller than most basketball players that I'd seen on the TV unnerved me. I had to believe that she was more gangly, thin, and skeletal, but from the photo that Mik and Topher had with her that they'd shown me, she just looked like a giant woman that was likely never human to begin with. Her frame was full, like a regular person, just... larger.

I shuddered to imagine what she looked like when she didn't look eerily human-like. I remembered uttering that out loud and Mik making a face that looked like he'd seen something of a nightmare... I couldn't bring myself to ask him to describe it.

"Did you already order anything?" Topher asked as he slid into the booth across from me.

My gaze snapped to him, seeing the dark, nearly black hair, and off-brown toned skin. I studied him for a moment, trying to make up my mind before finally giving him a flat and resounding "no" to answer to that question.

"Why do you look so beat down then?" Topher asked me as he picked up the menu from the center of the table. He opened it up, giving it a quick once over before seeming to make up his mind as Mik leaned over the back of my booth.

"I think J is either fantasizing over a human he's enamored with, or his parents likely caught him in a lie," Mik joked quietly.

"Fuck off," I snorted at Mik, rolling my eyes at him. "No. I just cut my new teeth today," I rumbled.

"Cut teeth? What, like your baby fangs?" Topher asked, smiling at me.

My eyes dodgedly darted up from the table to glare at him, and his humor didn't die off like I hoped. "No. I- Couldn't drink my coffee. I threw it up." I ran my hands over the back of my neck and down. "Not that it should be a big deal, but I don't think I can get over the sensation of the drink going out my nose when I tried to push it all down. It just happened so quick," I lamented.

"Sounds like you finally bit the dust on your caffeine binge." Topher leaned back in the seat, looking over his shoulder. "Doesn't make it idea to run out of your house dramatically."

"Yeah- well, I'm not a dog okay!" I watched Topher slide me a curious gaze with one eyebrow popping up before I simmered down. "I'm technically old enough to leave the house on my own. I can go out at night. My parents can't stop me."

"I don't think that's what anyone is insinuating, but it sounds like you're on your soap box," Topher shrugged at me, giving me the floor. "Let it out then."

I deflated, feeling the ripple of those words. I knew what Topher was saying. Don't be a bitch about it, but articulate your problem without whining. It was a sort of attitude him and Mik had, and honestly, I was sure it had a lot more to do with their upbringing. I knew my dad let me get away with it to an extent, but he always sort of reeled it back in to get me to think critically, and this had to be one of those points.

My hand flew up, and just as quickly as it caught air, it slapped the table in defeat. "Fuck, I don't know. Maybe I do, but I know that I have this discussion my parents are going to want to have with me about this, and I haven't been out and about enough to go perusing for a host. Humans are-" I cringed, gross. They always seemed kind of flighty, worried about the slightest perceived threat, and in some ways, it got my Hunger ticking, in others, it was revolting.

Mik raise a brow as he looked at Topher. "That's-"

"Don't you dare tell me that a strip club is the alternative." The thought felt slimy, and I shuddered. "I don't know. I haven't really given it much thought to really pour into the idea of a host. I just don't want to go completely psycho on anyone because packets are the only thing I've had."

Topher shrugged. "Red never complains."

"Uncle Red also doesn't have a vampire partner either, so that's kind of an unreal litmus," Mik added.

"Fair point," Topher amended, conceding to that. "Okay, so maybe it's not the most idea or the best discussion to have, but we're not exactly vampires."

"Haven't tasted one either," Mik said calmly.

I winced, then slowly turned my head up at him.

"What? My mom- says... you guys, you know what, I'll shut up."

"Yeah," I breathed. "Thanks for that." I pushed my hand up to my forehead, shoving the short bangs that brushed the top of my forehead back. My fingers dug between the strands, parting my hair as I raked my hand back smoothly. "What am I supposed to look for in a human? Blood type?"

"Question for your parents," Mik shrugged. "Maybe?"

"Obviously," Topher said quietly.

"Yeah, well, I'm welcoming not-parental managed ideas right now. I really don't think I want to go walk home and act like some school-kid going, 'Mom, Dad, how do I fucking eat a person?' Okay?"

"Ouch."

"That's a little harsh," Mik added to Topher's retort, not letting it hang. "I mean, vampires don't stick to one human. That's why I said the club."

"Absolutely fucking not. My first time isn't going to be a club. I know if I fuck that up, I'll never live it down."

"I mean, we could all just swear to secrecy," Mik snorted, laughing a little.

"Not helping," I growled under my breath.

"You elected this committee, not us." Mik shrugged, finally getting off the back of my booth to come swing around and sit down next to me. He shoved me in against the corner of the booth, and I dragged the menu with me.

"Maybe blood-infused food?" I suggested.

"That shit is going to piss your stomach off," Topher told me candidly. "That takes time to work up."

"I'll do whatever I damn-well want, okay?"

"Your funeral," Topher sighed, giving up. He shrugged his shoulders, letting his head fall back against the seat before looking at Mik. "Did you text Dad and ask him if were supposed to meet up tomorrow or if that was postponed for the weekend?"

"Forgot," Mik answered quickly, crossing his arms as he leaned forward over the table.

"Dammit." Topher grabbed his phone from his pocket to unlock the screen and start typing in it.

I didn't mind helping my father clean up the mess across the kitchen floor, and I was glad I was able to escape from the situation without too much of a discussion. I think he saw how bent up I was about it all, before letting me go to cool off on my own to talk later. He didn't need to say it, but I knew it.

That was just the way he was.

In the years surrounding my childhood, I had known my dad for being a few things. Firstly, he was a calm man, not too invested in taking people for what they were worth, but not exactly invested in others enough to go out of his way to antagonize them. Two, he was a big guy. Standing roughly around six foot something, he was some sort of Spanish or Latin origin, with dark brown eyes that only seemed to light up when we were all together as a family, or he was watching my mom excitedly talk about something she was invested in. Three, he didn't let anyone pick on us. It was one thing if anyone picked on him, he'd just shrug it off, but it was another thing entirely if anyone ever tried to come at me or mom.

I couldn't find myself hating that, because had it not been for him or the connects he had forged previously, I would have probably been in a lot more trouble than he would have liked.

I wouldn't be hanging out with the twins, who were - for all intents and purposes - likely a whole forty years ahead of me, but acted like they were just barely above me in terms of maturity. It was funny how my dad struggled to explain that, but my mom had no qualms just shrugging it off. She said immortals aged differently, and the first hundreds years was more like the equivalent of a human's first thirty years of life. Exciting, full of mischief, and likely the point where I was more likely to get my head shorn off if I was stupid.

Which... regrettably, I had my moments. My mom said I'd have moments where clarity would sink in here in there, but she didn't really seem to bothered by the way I acted. And my dad just went with it. Now, here I was, petting my dog - a rounded out corgi named Puddles, but only because my ten-year-old self thought it was would be funny - while sitting on the edge of my bed.

I could leave. I contemplated that, but I knew my mom would definitely have a stark disagreement with my dad about that. My head tipped to the side as I let my hand glide over the golden back of my old dog, and then I sucked in a breath. "I don't think I want to start heating up packs of blood," I told my dog, looking down at him slowly as he laid still in my lap, eyes closed, and ears poised in my direction as if he was listening. I hoped he was listening at least.

I cleared my throat, turning my head to the side as indecision rocked me. I didn't want to talk about feeding with my parents. I didn't want to think about how I would go about finding a host, or finding someone willing enough to let me learn how to do all that. "No..." I bemoaned, raking my hand over my face, but my mom said I needed to just to make sure I was safe around humans and Lycans. Lycans... not so much as more for my own well-being, because biting one of them was going to end in a not-so-good ending for me.

"No, I don't to do this." Embarrassment hit harder than a rock to the face. I snapped my eyes shut, flopping back onto my bed as my dog leapt off my lap onto the floor and I breathed in tightly. "Okay... Okay, maybe I can do this on my own. I can just- call the twins, we all go out, and I try it on my own. No big deal." Right? No big deal?

Wrong.

I'd gone through with my own strange motivation, landing myself square in the dark of some lounge that probably may or may not have belonged to my cousin and his husband. My stomach twisted sharply at the idea of them showing up, much less the confrontation of them being aware that I was out before I noticed a sharp gaze on me that made the hair on the back of my neck rise.

My head swiveled sharply to allow myself to look back behind me, but not before a hand gripped my shoulder, jostling me from what I was searching for to look up and meet the blue-brown heterochromia eyes that stared down at me fiercely. Mik. My heart nearly leapt out of my chest, before I recognized him and the round golden frames. His black hair always seemed to stick to his head in a way that made him look like one of those sleek models off a magazine. If only his personality matched.

"You should have just waited for us to catch up to you at the house before you left." Mik told me.

"Yeah- well, I was in a hurry," I wheezed out lamely. I could hear the older-brother-like tone edging in his voice as he grunted an annoyed growl at me, but the pressure of his hand lifted off my shoulder much to my relief.

I had my last sip of coffee today. The fresh taste of the bitter beans coated in ungodly amounts of syrup pumps and spoonfuls of sugar tasted like ash in my mouth. It was surprising really. I had started everything just like normal, getting up and getting ready for work, letting my dog out of the bedroom to get some water before the morning walk, and then making myself a cup of coffee with my tiny little single-cup coffee machine that pumped out burnt coffee like nobody's business.

It was... like usual, or- almost so, until the fucking drink hit my lips.

I blinked, my nose burning from the taste of it going up it because I couldn't choke it back down. My eyes burned, sugar in my nose didn't help, and the raw heat from throwing up the rest of it crumbled my hopes of a good morning along with the spill of the drink all across my tiled kitchen floor and into my shitty spent carpet, which was now a deeper shade of tan in some places.

"Fuck!"

I gave myself a little rouse to try to jostle back to my senses, smearing my lips with the open palm of my hand before shoving my mouth against arm as I began licking it as if it would rub off the taste. "Fuck!" I screamed again, running my hand over my tongue. "Fuck!" It was awful! The acidic burn of the coffee lingered in ways that I'd never experienced before and I started to panic, trying to get rid of it.

I didn't know what was wrong, but the moment my head swiveled around, I met my father's eyes and he leaned against the cabinet casually.

"What are you doing?"

"I-" I started, trying to give out an excuse. "I was just doing my usual morning!" I stammered out.

"Julian, relax. It's not an interrogation," Dean remarked smoothly. He bent down to pick up the cup, inspecting the situation. "You're just making a lot of noise, and I came out to investigate."

"I wasn't trying to wake you up! I just was drinking and suddenly my coffee tasted like shit! I didn't mean to fucking throw it. It was-"

Dean's shoulders fell as he relaxed. "That's because you can't do that anymore."

"What?" I asked in disbelief. "What? No. It- That fast?" When my dad didn't answer, my hands fell to my sides in defeat. "Well- Well, what am I supposed to do now?"

"Call in for work," Dean said calmly.

"No."

"Julian," Dean said, looking up at him steadily.

He stared at me with that calmness he had that mom and I did not. It unnerved me because I knew he was saying so out of some rationale beyond me.

My gaze flicked away briefly from him, but when I looked back at him, he rose up to his feet. "Don't argue, just call in for work." he said firmly, though his tone held little to no aggression to it. My dad wasn't the aggressive type. "We can figure something out, but you're not going to do it today. You're just going to end up getting in an accident or worse."

I could see the decisiveness in my father's eyes. The kind that I didn't have enough gusto to muscle up against. I wished I did, but he always won out on being more stubborn than me in ways that baffled me. "Dammit, this sucks," I grumbled under my breath.

"It just means we have to talk a little. Go back over how this works," Dean said. He put the cup in the sink before grabbing a few paper towels. "Why don't you go grab the mop, and after we clean this up you can sit down. Maybe give your dog some attention."

I begrudgingly complied, shifting my gaze away from him. This wasn't where I wanted to be, but it was where I was. My hands grappled for the dispenser, ripping the roll until it spat out probably more than my mom would have thought was necessary to throw it down on the floor. "I still think it's stupid," I breathed. When my dad didn't answer, I sighed. Tonight, I was going to be going over the ground rules that I wasn't sure I wanted to take on.

One, no more day-walking.

Two, no more regular foods. The idea that it would take time to build a tolerance into blood-infused foods sucked, but I was adamant to have my way. Even if my mom said that the blood packs were going to taste a lot shittier than than the real deal.

I was going to get my coffee one way or the other. Or, at least, I hoped I would. It was the closest thing to the energy drinks I was allowed anymore since I had binged those until I got cut off.

My head turned the side, my eyes closing as I shook my head slowly. Man, today was going to really suck.

A note to the reader, before diving in. There is nothing in this written word that I am intending for anyone to be confrontational. I am honestly more in favor of this being more about just taking a moment to breath, let yourself choose what you want in and out of your mind, and then proceeding to impliment ways of making that come to fruition. This isn’t a work about getting in people’s faces, in fact, it is quite the opposite. It is about ignoring, or not giving further attention to the ones who are jumping in others faces, being confrontational, aggressive and belligerent where it is otherwise unwarranted.

So with that being said, let’s continue on…

***********************************************************************************

Broad strokes,

Deep breathes.

In and out, I think I find myself trying to balance the framework on my mind.

Nothing in with nothing out. I have shuttered my doors and tacked my windows down to the harsh cacophony of peacocks bent on blustering my ears with their incessant chatter.

I get it, you all think you're beautiful.

Still, I mustn't let it uproot me and steep into my bones.

I need to push back, making sure I am not breathing out enough to make room for them and theirs.

Here. Here is my home.

Here, in the width of my obtuseness, is my apparent inner self.

Some might bequeath it as stern, others as demeaning, but I am no rug and I have no intention to welcome you into my life while you dust off your feet.

So yes.

Deep strokes.

Broad breathes.

I will pain across my skies, the span of days and nights in which I toil.

But I will not allow you to break bread under my bridge if you have any intention to spoil my good nature.

Take your chattering, your bellyaching, and whining to a stump in which you can preach.

I am not your place of sermon.

I did not ask for you to speak.

I can't be the only one who's hopes were dashed by the start of this twenty-fourth year. Twenty four years into the 2000s, and holding out for the heartache to stop.

Economy. Dead.

Philosophy. Twisted.

Morbidity. Unphased.

And still yet desensitized to the coming and passing of this season.

Would you drink to try to help the days blur past faster?

Would you sleep to make the nights burn into daylight, or would it even matter?

I cannot say.

I would be giving into some trope.

I would not give myself much credit, not where it's due.

It feels like I'm dodging and weave depression, though she's already given me her invoice.

The spell is due.

Was this year more hopes and dreams dashed?

Was this year sort of more like a hit with a crash?

Fucking holidays.

Holiday cheer.

More like a campaign to juxtapose the smear.

Smear of my wallet. My dollars at bay.

More fines. More taxes. More hatred... and May... May I just bring out that there's no question in my mind. How much more can we all handle?

I'm breaking into my conscious' vault, trying to find a penny of peace to keep in mind.

Are we all sacked? Is this how it goes?

Or is this just the normal holiday blows?