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“What does falling in love feel like?” Steve asked lazily. He was drunk, which was commonplace for him, but the commentary was rare.
Gannen raised his eyebrow and, with an open mouth, expressed about 17 emotions at once. He couldn’t figure out what to ask.
What’s the name of the sorry son of a bitch that decided to date you?
Someone likes you enough to fuck you?
Instead, Gannen decided on this.
“What’s their name?” He asked, strained.
“Her name is Annie Shan,” he said guiltily.
“Do you like her?”
“I didn’t at first. But now I do. And I don’t know what to do.”
“Was she a hookup? There’s no shame in falling for a hookup, Steve. Gods know I’ve done it. Everyone has done it.”
“I hooked up with her to get back at Darren, but then she got pregnant. Which works better, actually, because there’s no better revenge than getting your ex-best friend’s sister pregnant.” Gannen stared at him incredulously.
“Can you back up a bit? Please?” Steve sighed and threw his hands up.
“When we were eleven, Darren and I went to a freak show. Not a circus with a fake beard- we went to the Cirque du Freak . We were eleven. We shouldn’t have been there in the first place.”
“How did you two end up there?” Gannen asked carefully.
The Cirque du Freak wasn’t a place for kids. Hell, it wasn’t a place for most adults. It was what Gannen called a string of fate. Having lived for so long, he had figured out that there were certain cities and places that had mystical undertones. These were the destinations that people ended up in- not because they wanted to, but rather because they were fated to. Paris was one, Greenland was another, and the Cirque du Freak was one of those places. That’s where Vancha had traveled for a few years before deciding to join Gannen as a vampaneze.
“Our friend’s older brother, Allen, got a flyer that earned two tickets.” Steve smiled into the air at nothing. He had a dreamy expression on his face. Maybe he was reflecting back on the easier times of his life. “It all seems so distant now, Gannen. Fuck- we were kids!”
“What happened at the show?” Gannen asked. Steve’s expression darkened.
“I saw Larten Crepsley. Darren saw a spider. I wish I could say that was the end of it, but destiny had other plans.” He paused. “It should’ve ended there. I shouldn’t have confronted him.”
“You confronted Larten Crepsley? ” Gannen asked incredulously. “Did you have a fucking deathwish, shit for brains?” Steve laughed at the insult.
“No. Well, yes, sort of. I was miserable. I only had Darren, and he would’ve moved on after my death. I moved on after his,” he mumbled, playing with a leather cord wrapped around his neck. He laughed darkly. “Gods, imagine if he’d been cremated. That would’ve been miserable.”
“Why would it have been miserable?” He probed.
“Because Darren drank some sort of concoction to fake his death. He was alive, but his vital signs had slowed down enough to be undetectable.”
A chill ran down Gannen’s spine.
“Is he still alive?” Gannen asked. Steve shrugged and looked up at the sky.
“Maybe. Maybe not. I don’t know. Is it calloused to say that I don’t care?” Gannen opened his mouth to answer, but Steve answered his own question.
“Yeah, that’s pretty calloused of me to say. I was best friends with him at some point. We did everything together, Gannen. We painted together, went to school together. Hell, if I asked him to join the vampaneze, he would have. We were brothers. And nothing could separate that.” He sadly chuckled. “You didn’t have any siblings, right?”
Gannen paused. Steve was blackout drunk. He wouldn’t remember this at all. He lay down on his back and faced the sky in a pose similar to Steve’s and began to tell his story.
“One,” he said quietly. “I had one brother.” Steve chuckled incredulously.
“You have family? You were a person before t being a vampaneze?”
“No, I was a vampaneze before a person.” Steve scoffed.
“You can’t be born a vampaneze, stupid. No one can. Not even Gannen freaking Harst.”
“A person goes after his brother, and a vampaneze stays with his clan, where he belongs.” Gannen heaved a sigh. “I stayed, and Vancha left. I still remember what he looked like when he left. He was bloody and scared, and didn’t have anything to his name. Tobias took everything he had- even his clothes. He was left to leave the world as he came into it, and he ran into the woods in Kosovo. That was the last time I saw my brother.”
“Is he alive?” Steve asked quietly.
“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “I hope for his sake he isn’t. I hope that he died a good death, and that we can reunite someday in Paradise. Living as an exile is a fate worse than death.” He paused. “You’re still wet behind the ears, Steve. You think that death is the end-all be-all of life. It isn’t. There are many things that are worse than death. Your heart can stop beating, yes, but Desmond Tiny’s fingers reach into the boundaries of Paradise and wrap around the soul of his next unfortunate victim.”
“Shit,” he whispered.
“That’s why I keep him away from you,” he whispered. “Because I know what he’s capable of. And you don’t. You need to listen to me sometimes, you know.” Steve chuckled.
“I try to.”
“I’m just giving you shit,” he whispered. “I know you do. You’re headstrong. We like apprentices like this.”
“Back to love. Can I ever truly love Annie?”
“Did you develop feelings for her?” Gannen asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Then no. If you love someone, you will know when they come along. She is the mother of your child, though, so you need to respect her.”
“Okay.”
“And Steve?” Gannen asked.
“Yeah?”
“If you ever bring your son around your vampaneze bullshit, I will kill you myself.”
“Got it.”