It\'s long but I had a lot to say. Sorry. Bryant felt that he was now the predator, and the vampires were his prey. It had taken the young mortal a long time to come to this conclusion. He\'d been bitten, fed upon, and fucked by a lot of vampires since his first encounter with one in Pisky Memorial Park. Since then, he\'d learned to play those silly little vampire games, and work their silly little system. That\'s what vampires were to Bryant, silly. Well, they were silly, but they were also super hot! Bryant had become so hooked on vampire sex, that the last time he\'d been with a mortal, he\'d been unable to cum. The mortal boy had also been really sexy! None of this mattered to Bryant. If you couldn\'t sink sexy, white fangs into his neck while fucking him at a high speed per second, then why were you even talking to him?
Vampires were also intriguing to Bryant. He liked to study them, like a white coat studying crazy people. He\'d met several vampires of interest in the city, and was amazed at how different they all were. There was Orias, the strong, soft hearted artist, the young, hot vampire who\'d pinned him down in the park, William the narcissistic vampire he\'d met his first time at Risk and Lisa-Joe the brutal fem fatal owner of The White Rabbit. Each of these vampires had made a distinct, different impression that had taught the young human how different and insane all vampires really were. His most recent encounters had been with Conner, Scott, and Jake. Conner had used Bryant as a subject in some sort of experiment. Although at first Bryant had fought Conner tooth and nail, he\'d formed an uneasy friendship with him and his lover Scott. Jake had proved to Bryant, that slight cockiness aside, vampires could be normal people. The only steadfast, unshakable conclusion Bryant had come to about vampires, was that you shouldn\'t come to steadfast, unshakable conclusions about vampires.
So now, a bit junkie, fang banger, blood slut, whatever name people chose to call it, Bryant was one of them. Tonight he moved about Risk, looking for his next \'victim.\' His brown hair had just been cut short, and swooped up into a neat row of little spikes. It was the kind of hair style that said, "I\'m messy and don\'t care," but actually took several minutes to get just right. His gray eyes looked almost brown in the darkness of the club, but a slight hint of green could be seen shining out from them if one looked close enough. Bryant wore a tight Blue V-Neck. He\'d learned the low cut style attracted potential biters, because of the massive neck exposure. He wore skin tight jeans that rounded the curves of his ass, and slid down his legs to his New Balance sneakers. He was bigger than he used to be. Much to his disapproval he hadn\'t grown taller. No amount of lifting could suddenly stretch his spine. However, he was buffer. A shirt that was once baggy, now fit skin tight on the former twink turned gym bunny. Despite his advancement, Bryant still felt skinny, wimpy and weak. If we could only see ourselves the way other people saw us.
The band was good. The lights were low, and Bryant\'s mental \'fangs\' were looking for blood. He scanned the area for vamps, and found only fledglings and ego freaks. The few half decent vampires all held human dancing partners, and Bryant didn\'t want to play home wrecker unless he had too. With booze at Risk outrageously overpriced, Bryant decided to stand by the bar and look pouty, in the hope that some old vampire might buy him a drink to make him smile. He wasn\'t proud of himself for such a thing, but \'vampires gotta eat, and twinks gotta\' drink.\'
After thinking that exact thought to provide self justification for the cheap act he was about to commit, Bryant began working his way through the thick crowd of dancing patrons.
"Excuse me," was uttered several times, amid several bumped elbows, knees, legs and arms. The floor was hot, and Bryant began to sweat. The music was pumping, the people were dancing like mad, and Bryant, the little engine who could, was plowing through to the bar. Suddenly Bryant felt his face be stung, as he\'d just walked into somebody\'s chest. After the few colors that one sees after a direct collision dissipated, Bryant looked up to see the person he\'d just crashed into.
What he saw made him turn his head to one side, to insure he wasn\'t dreaming. A hunk, tall and muscular all in white, stood towering over the small Bryant. His long blonde hair looked like fresh wheat growing in the fields, and his eyes were powerful and piercing. His skin was smooth, and chalk like, almost perfectly white, with just a touch of pink, and his cheek bones were high and perfect. Realizing that he\'d been spoken to, Bryant did his best to translate what he was sure was English. In his daze, he\'d been unable to fully process what the blonde had said to him. He assumed it functioned on the realm of \'excuse me\' or \'watch it!\' His tone seemed sarcastic and annoyed.
As he returned to planet Earth, Bryant realized he didn\'t want this guy to go away. Yet, in his stupor, all he could manage to say was...
"Hi there." His accent was thick, southern and wet. His tone was friendly, yet formal.