Midnight Snack II

Punctual to the minute I park my red 1998 BMW Z3 Roadster in front of the Landmark Sunshine, get out and lean against the car, eyes fixed on the doors of the cinema. He keeps me waiting solid five minutes before he finally comes out with leisurely steps. The sight leaves me speechless in the first moment. The tight black jeans fits his slim figure extremely advantageously.

Like the tight-fitting pink long sleeve shirt with open placket, which looks out from under the short, soft, black leather jacket. Pink! I do not believe it. The man wears pink and with a nonchalance that has no equal. I am aware that I stare at him open-mouthed and still I can not help it.

His movements are lithe, like a big cat. He is so damn sexy that I could attack him on the spot. Pull yourself together, Edmond. This is not the right place, yet the right time to do it, reminds me the voice of reason in my mind vividly. So I take a deep breath, give him an alluring smile and ask him with a welcoming gesture to get into the roaster.He returns my smile with a wink and jumps into the car on the passenger side. He sits down on the elegant black leather seat, without taking the trouble to open the door first. It looks like he is keen on sports as well.

Creating the belt with one hand, while he simultaneously is casually stroking through his permeable garbled hair with the other, makes me wish for a tiny moment, it was my hand touching the silky magnificence. “Did you know that long hair for men in past centuries often stood for freedom and independence?” I ask when I climb into the car as well, while I would like to kick my own ass at the same moment for asking that question. “Really? That’s interesting! No, I had no idea. Somehow it still fits, don’t you think? “His cheeky grin, accompanied by a knowing look at my just over collar long hair also makes me grin. I nod wordlessly.

“Where are we going anyway??” He asked curiously, when I’ve finally taken place behind the steering wheel, have fasten my seatbelt also and start the engine. “Come and take pot luck!” I reply with a significant smile, while I turn the radio on. 95x Rock Radio plays “Night of the Hunter” by Thirty Seconds to Mars. How fitting, I think, smiling to myself and take a brief glance at my passenger. To my surprise he is quietly singing along with a melodic voice, amazingly word-perfect. Looks like not only I seem to have a soft spot for this band, too. My, my!

Suddenly stopping, he looks at me. “I wish Mars would make a really cool vampire short film for this this song. You know, something eerily beautiful, with the for their films so characteristic aesthetic ” he explains, to my amazement. I give his idea a moment’s thought, then I nod. “Yes, the thought has a ring to it. ” I agree with a roguish smile. We find that we like the same songs of the band and have mainly similar views to the lyrics.

On demand I also find out that my companion in a Paris-born Frenchman, whose name is Francois, who has been drifted by the spirit of adventure to New York City after finishing his studies as a painter. In return, I chat a bit too out of school. Tell him my name and my profession. He seems surprised that I’m also an artist, namely a conceptual artist. It doesn’t go without notice by me that it’is working mightily behind his forehead, but he says nothing.

While I confidently steer the car through the brightly lit and despite the late hour still well busy city streets to Central Park, we talk about God and the world. Ask each other holes in the stomach. We laugh and fool around here, as if we already know us throughout our lives. It is a completely new experience for me. What is the matter with this fellow? Normally it’s not my nature to open up to people unknown to me so easily and quickly, let alone that I am getting closer to those. I need my time to get to know him or her better. First I need to build some trust, in the truest sense of the word. Must see whether, or that they are genuine, loyal, discreet and honest in dealing with me.

Then and only then I let down the wall a little bit, that I once built as a protective wall around my mortal soul centuries ago. So what the hell is up with this guy next to me that I have a feeling that I could blindly put my life and my safety into his hands? I do not understand it! I do not understand myself anymore. Being together with Francois feels so familiar, wonderfully carefree and somehow natural that I tell him things about me, my dreams and my desires, which did not come over my lips for centuries. More specifically, since I became a vampire.

 

To be continued…

© Copyright 2011 by The Storyteller’s Garden

₪ ø ιιι •o.

My Soundtrack:

Don McLean – Castle in the air http://goo.gl/1yvyf

Don McLeanVincent (Starry Starry Night)  http://goo.gl/eYQEV

Jim Croce – Time in a Bottle  http://goo.gl/YLWc8

Queen – Bohemian Rhapsody http://goo.gl/Ug3a0

3 Doors Down – Every Time You Go http://goo.gl/YiKoz

Cyndi Lauper – Time after time http://goo.gl/0AqR3

Thirty Seconds to Mars – Night of the Hunter http://goo.gl/sBE46

Advertisements

About The Storyteller's Garden

Creature of the night ₪ ø ιιι ·o.
This entry was posted in Fright Night, Midnight Snack, Story, Vampire Story and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Post a new comment

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s