Open, vampire preferred
"And I an telling you, I'm not going," Kyle Wilson sang, as he bopped down the halls of Watson's Literature department. He wore large oversized headphones, as the Jenifer Hudson rendition of Dreamgirls blasted into his ears. He work black chucks, light blue skinny jeans, and a navy blue pull over. He had a large black backpack, with an Overwatch key chain, a fuck 45 button, and a rainbow ribbon all pinned on.
"And you, and you, and you, you're gonna love me!" He was getting a few stares, but laughed them off. He wasn't really paying much attention to them. In his fantasy world, he was preforming this song on some big stage to thunderous applause! He did a quick spin, but lost his balance and crashed into the lockers.
"Oof," he grumbled, finding his headphones were now half off his face. It broke the daydream, and Kyle was returned to the hallway. He looked around and saw only a few of the dance students witnessed his fall. One really hot senior yelled, "nice moves Kyle. Stick to writing stories."
"I will," he shouted back. "I'll write about you," he warned. The senior formed a pout and went into another hallway that led to the dance department. After readjusting his headphones and fixing his hair, he began singing through the hallways again. The only thing missing was a hairbrush microphone. He'd only been in the city for a semester, but already it felt like home. He didn't miss Des Moines at all, and certainly not his birth town. His mom promised that she'd be coming soon to check on him, but she'd been promising him that for months. She also kept asking if he had a girlfriend, despite knowing he liked boys.
It made it easier to distance himself from the old world, and fully invest in the new, and Kyle had dreams. He wanted to write the great American novel, but also laughed at how pretentious that was. He liked writing horror fiction better, but had been learning that certain literary communities looked down on horror writers. Kyle considered the words, but thought, Steven King is doing alright.
He'd just got out of his character study class, and his character of Victor the vampire had been a real hit. His teachers had said Victor came off more complicated than most vampire characters. He imagined a world where vampires were real. It was another one of his daydreams, and it replaced his urge to sing with an urge to meet a real vampire someday. He imagined it would be just like True Blood and super romantic. His imagination was so out of control that he started crossing the street without looking. It was late, close to midnight, and the roads just outside the Literature building were poorly lit. A driver swerved around a nearby corner. Kyle should've heard it coming, but his music was blasting into his ears.
If someone didn't either pull him back, or push him out of the way, he'd be hit straight on. His mother had often joked that Kyle would die, "by not paying attention." Turns out, she was possibly right.