El Niño

[Existentially Odd]

The summer he was seventeen became the best of Owen's life.  After experimenting with a boy in Havana and learning quite a few new things about his friend Vincent, he returned home with a changed outlook.  Despite having a mindset for adventure, however, things developed at their own pace and he soon learned that happenstance provided better opportunities than he could design for himself.  While sneakily visiting Maddy at school during her lunch break (and excitedly whispering of his boy adventures to her shocked ears) he noticed a good portion of the school's football team strolling around the grounds in shorts and tank tops.  When Maddy had to go back in, he went looking for the boys and found that they had access to the school's gym during the holidays, to complete a pre-season training regime.  He asked if he could join them and most were ambivalent, so he did.

Quite by accident, he started shadowing the football team.  For the most part, he tried to keep out of their ways but he really had no idea about the equipment or weights or what to do to build up his muscle, so they took pity on him and included him in their workout routines.  He also learned everything he didn't know about meal supplements, carbs and getting a whole lot of protein into his diet.  He was always disappointed when the sessions ended because he really felt like he was getting somewhere with his fitness and could see results when he looked in the mirror - Steve would've been impressed, he thought smugly.

From working out with them, Owen moved to partying with the team by night.  He'd always known their names t pass them in the hall but had generally never had anything to do with them, preferring Maddy's more unique company to theirs.  Since she was still grounded, however, he reasoned he had to spend his time with someone else (and although he though of Vincent, he'd just returned from a trip away with him and... he needed some space this time) and the team was a daring change of pace.  They were also a roller coaster of action and enchanting fun.

Afternoons were frequently spent at the beach (after they'd finished training), leading into night time bonfires featuring music, drinking and debauchery.  Owen didn't do a whole lot of drinking but the antics of the others amused him and he wasn't averse to the attention he got from a few of the pretty girls (he was fairly sure they were cheerleaders) who naturally revolved around the footballers.  The sand dunes made for perfect, secluded make-out spots and he had a great deal of fun.

One night, after whatever girl he'd been with had headed home, he caught the eye of a friend of a friend from another school.  He stared at Owen through the fire for quite awhile until Owen slightly tipped his head in a direction behind him, casually wandering off when he received a miniscule nod.  Not long after, the guy found his spot in the dark and, feeling more comfortable than he had with any of the girls, Owen threw himself into a heated session with the (previously quite innocent) guy, receiving a handjob and giving a blowjob.  His chest swelled with pride at the bedazzled looks and whispered words of longing he received and he was happy to exchange numbers and agree to meet up again with the guy (whose name turned out to be Brad).

Other nights were spenting driving around, loitering on the boardwalk or in the mall or through Pisky memorial Park.  One or two nights were spent scaring the girls in the Wyatt Hill Cemetery and at Fantastika, while many more saw them hitting balls for hours at Sticks and Stakes.  Mostly, they were a large group of about ten teenagers, though there were a few couples who would come and go or break off halfway through the night to do their own thing.  Owen found himself regularly paired with a girl named Sharna Stimson, a pretty brunette with long legs and great breasts.  He didn't mind, but she didn't ever offer much in the way of conversation; in the end, he lost his virginity to her because he couldn't think of anything else to attempt to talk about in his bedroom (she didn't seem to be there for anything else anyway) and after he'd spent a couple of hours between her legs learning to please her with his mouth, he was keen to finish.  He wasn't surprised that he didn't feel very different afterwards - he just knew a lot more about the female anatomy - but he was pleased to have left one label behind him so he could keep searching for one that fit.

Although he was pretty sure he had a mild preference for males, Owen tried quite a few girls after Sharna (much to her disgust), just because they offered him some sort of different and interesting experience (a blowjob at the movies, sex at the beach, sex in the backseat of her car).  It was all recreational and enjoyable.  He called in to see Vincent one night many weeks after his initial experience and shared with him that he was no longer a virgin, not saying much about his experiences and laughing when he was warned to use protection.  He had no intention of getting any of them pregnant or contracting any diseases they might have and he assured Vincent of the fact before he ran out to reach the Y.D.M. Arts Studio (where a few of the girls were in some performance they wanted everyone to see) on time.

His summer spent with a new crowd of people caused Owen to make some new reolutions for his own life, beyond eating healthier and continuing to work out so that the abs he could almost see would appear properly.  He wanted to work so he could get some money and get a car for himself.  His mother (not wanting him to buy some ridiculously dangerous car that he could afford with only a little amount of money) offered to match whatever he earned so that he could get a decent car and he was ecstatic.  In the last week of his summer break, he submitted resumés in many stores, scoring a few offers.  He accepted one at a jeans/clothing retail store because his friends frequently shopped there and they offered him the best pay rate and hours.  They were also complimentary, telling him that he was perfect for the store because, with his tanned good looks, the girls would come in to be served by him and he'd move a lot of stock.  In this, they turned out to be correct and Owen finally learned to trade on his looks rather than his intellect, flirting effortlessly in order to secure sales (though he never lied if an outfit looked truly bad on someone - he still had morals).

Once school started up again, his life became a whirl of juggling work demands, saving money and studying.  He was focussed on college, trying to decide what he wanted to study and do with his life (he had no real idea) and just getting good grades in the meantime.  He spent more time with Maddy but still didn't find much time to see Vincent, since his nights were dedicated to work or a few rare forms of play.  He dated Brad every now and then and after a couple of months they had sex, too.  As he'd always suspected it might, it held more meaning for him than it had with any of the girls and he and Brad decided to try being a couple but it only lasted a month before their conflicting schedules and Brad's insane need for secrecy drove them apart.  Owen had told his mother that he might be bisexual or gay and she'd been surprised but happy enough for him; Brad hadn't even been prepared to be seen in the capacity of his boyfriend in front of her.

While he'd been neglecting Maddy, she'd made some new friends as well and when Owen finally returned to hanging out with her at lunch times at school (she referred to his other friends as the K.K.K. - kool kids krowd - in a very derogatory manner and refused to join him with them) he was pleasantly surprised by how comfortable it was.  There was suddenly a girl named Paige who was a little short and chubby, with a breathtakingly beautiful face behind her glasses and the most intensely green eyes Owen had ever seen hanging with Maddy, and he didn't know where she'd come from.  Something about her fascinated him and they could converse for hours without running out of topics.  It was a natural progression for him to ask her out and he didn't understand Maddy's distress when he and Paige became an official couple after a week, though he noticed her no longer returning his calls or texts and staring right through him whenever they met up at school.

Paige eventually told him that Maddy had always liked him and thought that he and she would end up together; they made more sense, considering Maddy was tall and cool and looked very much like Owen's other half would, where Paige was not tall enough and rather dowdy by comparison.  She followed that comment up with a fierce proclamation of being glad he'd picked her, though, and stated that she was sure Maddy would get over it (she didn't).  In the meantime, Paige happily assimilated as his girlfriend into his other group of friends and she picked up tips from them like Owen had (except hers regarded fashion and makeup and such).  He took her virginity after a month and they began convincing each other that they'd fallen in love with their soulmate.

Unfortunately, the change of social standing affected Paige differently than it had Owen and, six months into their relationship, with the end of their high school career looming in around three months' time, he found out she'd cheated on him more than once.  Good looking boys had paid her attention and she'd been helpless to resist their sweet talk.  Owen was devastated and their break up was ugly and heartwrenching.  It was something he never wanted to repeat, for he felt like he was literally dying whenever he thought of Paige and the way she'd admitted the rumour he'd heard was true - but she was sorry!  His mother encouraged him to go and talk to Vincent but he didn't want to go and see his friend (another one he'd neglected, he realised) with his heart broken.  He knew he'd just cry and dribble snot everywhere and, really, what good were the trials of an eighteen year old to someone over six hundred?

He threw his traumatised energy into finally choosing a car, shopping with his mother until they both agreed on one they liked - a late model, cherry red Mustang - and making it his newest friend.  Thankfully, some of his people friends stood by him too (ones who hadn't known about Paige and the other guys she'd been with), and out of a large group he was left with a smaller, tighter bunch of three guys who supported and genuinely cared about maintaining his friendship.  They began hanging out together and Owen started to find his way back to himself, shooting hoops with them after school, swimming with them when the weather started warming up and going places that meant something to him, like the Art Gallery and the Museum.  It was comfortable and normal and helped him heal to the point where he could pass Paige in the halls at school and look expressionlessly at her (while she still started crying pathetically).

Before they knew it, finals were upon them and Owen and his friends began talking about what was to come after school was over.  They'd all received offers to at least one college (Owen to five) and were discussing travelling away from their home city, rooming together, studying together.  Before that came, of course, there were plans to go away and party somewhere known for being a party mecca like Miami, a final hurrah as a foursome, free and clear and out for nothing but fun.

At last, Owen knew he needed to go and see Vincent - and not just a call-in-and-look-at-my-car-oops-gotta-run, either.  There was about a month of school left but he knew Vincent would likely have been thinking about where the two of them would go on their summer holiday and, for the first time in his life, he didn't want that.  Not at first, anyway.  He wanted to go away with the three guys who'd supported him in his darkest hours, to be with the people who'd proved to be true friends first.  After a few weeks, he was sure they'd all miss their parents enough (and have run out of money!) to be ready to come back home and that would be the time he could spend with Vincent - before he had to get everything in order in time for college.  In fact, he also wanted to get his older friend's opinion on his options in that regard, so it definitely was time to visit.

Friday night, after he finished his afternoon shift at work, he drove straight to Vincent's, arriving around seven o'clock.  He was still wearing his work outfit of snug-fitting dark blue jeans, brown suede sneakers and a white button-up shirt with navy blue and brown scribbly writing and part picture designs and grey pinstripes all over it.  They were clothes sold at the shop - though he wore them much more attractively than the store mannequins did.  Owen had rolled the long sleeves up to his elbows to reveal muscular forearms showing a few veins and had the top two buttons of his shirt undone at his throat, the tails of it tucked into his belted jeans.  He was also wearing a black leather necklace and matching black wrist wraps on his left wrist; he fiddled with after he'd parked in Vincent's driveway and went and rang his doorbell.  He could've used his key but it'd been a few weeks since he'd seen Vincent and even though he'd texted earlier in the week that he'd be round at about this time, he didn't want to just burst into his friend's home unannounced.  It didn't seem right.

He looked up from his wrist as the door opened and smiled beatifically, his golden blonde hair (growing a little wayward and curly once more, after being shaved completely off earlier in the year, then being kept in a tidy style Paige liked while he was with her) glowing like a halo beneath the light of the porch.  "Hey!" he greeted casually and stepped into Vincent's arms, hugging him hello.

[Trillian]

Vincent had been hopeful but wary about Owen's flippant message to him.  He hadn't seen the youth for a long while, and even then the year had been scattered with 'greet and run' visits.  He knew Owen was discovering himself, growing into a man, finding his path in life and developing his personality.  He approved of the job Owen had, and the car he'd bought along with Karen's help.  He approved of Owen finding new friends and discovering his sexuality.  Almost everything he knew about Owen had come from having chats with his mother.  Whenever Vincent missed him a little too much, he would talk to her about him.  Karen saw very little of him as well, but at least she could get more out of him because they were under the same roof.

Now, Owen was in front of him and looking a lot more grown up; different hairstyle, different clothing, even different body.  Vincent looked at him and felt confident that he'd made the right decision to just let the youth be.  He hoped for an eternity with Owen after all, so letting him go to figure things out for himself had struck a good outcome.  It was important for the mortal to appreciate life before an extension was offered to him, otherwise he might end up cold and heartless, or have a sense of entitlement which would lead to detachment.  He had to know people, to interract with them, to make friends with them, to love them.  Still, Vincent had missed him terribly and it was somehow painful to look at the boy, looking angelic and fashionable and mature.  He wondered if his blue check shirt, plain blue-jeans and tan loafers would make the cut, and supposed not.

When he stepped into an embrace, Vincent held him as tightly as he dared.  He missed the smell of Owen.  Oh, that had changed too, with a different selection of deoderant and colognes, but underneath all that was still Owen's smell.  He breathed it in deeply from Owen's neck just below his ear and thought belatedly that Owen might not like to listen to himself being smelled.  Still, he wasn't pulling away, so Vincent held on for as long as Owen twitched a desire to leave his arms.  Once he felt that, he stepped back, his hands tracing a familiar path down his arms (so muscular now!) to Owen's hands, and took a moment to look at him.

"You're the picture of a young man, now," he said, and thought about how different their new summer holiday might be this time.  Vincent would be travelling with a more mature version of Owen now, and he was looking forward to revealing the surprise he had in store.  A buff-coloured document wallet holding a bunch of papers and tickets was sitting casually on top of the coffee table in the sitting room.

[Existentially Odd]

Owen laughed good-naturedly.  "Pictures don't move and breathe, Vincent.  C'mon, I'm at least a movie of a young man!" he quipped, pulling his hands out of Vincent's and looking around to see if he could figure out what plans his friend might have in store for him.  "Should we sit?" he queried, raising his eyebrows as he hooked his thumbs into his back pockets.  The bulge he felt there reminded him of something.

"Oh!  I brought you a present!" he exclaimed, withdrawing a rolled-up leather strip from his pocket and unfurling it before his friend.  "I made it in art for you."  Since he was old enough to hold a pencil, Owen had made things for Vincent and he'd managed to stumble on something that had got a better reaction than most when he was about eight - a bookmark.  They both enjoyed reading so it had made sense for Owen to give it to Vincent (as his Father's Day gift, but he'd known even then not to announce that part of the crafting) and it had made even more sense when Vincent had dutifully exclaimed over the laminated bit of cardboard with Owen's childish pictures of the two of them going out at night on it.  For the child, a precedent was set and, through the years, he and Vincent had started up quite a collection of bookmarks.

Thankfully, Owen's craftsmanship had improved as well and the thing he held out towards his friend so nonchalantly now was actually a beautifully-crafted strip of leather that he'd spent hours meticulously cutting a spiderweb into.  The spider was represented in relief in the top left corner, the web radiating from there in delicate strips that he'd had to take care to leave behind with the scalpel he'd used to shape it.  The top and bottom were fringed and twisted with five beads woven into each end, which rendered the bookmark impractical if the book Vincent was reading was longer than his wrist to his inner elbow but added a decoration that somehow hinted at the tree the web was strung in.  It wasn't about practicality, though, it was about showing Vincent he still thought about him and that they still had their special things between them.

[Trillian]

Vincent took the bookmark and looked at it for a long moment before looking up at Owen for the same amount of time.

"Thank you," he said, perhaps not with the kind of expression or demonstrative reaction that Owen had expected.  Certainly he didn't fuss over it like he had the others, though this was the best one Owen had ever made, and easily displayed the amount of time that had gone into it.  Vincent folded the bookmark a few times and put it into his front right hand pocket.  "Yes, we should sit," Vincent agreed, though the answer came a great deal later than the request had been made.  He led the way for them to the sitting room, where a couple of high-backed armchairs with rolled arms faced a three seater sofa at an angle.  The coffee table sat squarely in the middle, the folder to one side on top of it.  Vincent moved to an armchair, wanting to keep a little distance between himself and Owen, so he could look at the changes his mortal friend had gone through some more.

[Existentially Odd]

Following Vincent into the sitting room, Owen made himself comfortable on the three-seater, sitting towards the end closest to Vincent and lifting a foot onto his opposite knee, casually resting both hands on his ankle as he smiled at Vincent.  He glanced at the envelope on the coffee table, wondering if he was supposed to ask what was inside - it was the only thing out of place in Vincent's tidy house, after all - but figuring he'd be told what it was if it was important.

"How've you been?" he asked then wondered if that was a stupid question to ask a vampire.  Nothing changed with them, did it?  Perhaps Vincent had started a new hobby or something, though.  He let it stand, feeling a little nervous about immediately launching into rejecting his friend based on (assumed) future plans.

[Trillian]

"I've been well, thank you for asking, Owen," Vincent said primly.  His fingers were linked together and covering the knee of the leg he'd folded over the other.  He was aware their body language was dictating their mutual interest in what each other had to say, and felt a little better about this.  Owen hadn't completely pulled away, and he obviously was thinking about Vincent enough to put the effort into the bookmark.  That had been what relieved the vampire most - identifying that the teen hadn't moved on without him.  "And how are things going for you?" he asked, expecting a long list of the latest things Owen had been up to.

[Existentially Odd]

"Pretty crazy, with school winding up in a few weeks!" Owen enthused and shifted slightly, so that his shoulders were angled towards Vincent more.  "That's one thing I wanted to talk to you about, actually - well, there's two things," he corrected himself with a casual laugh.  "The first is that I wanted to let you know I'm going away with a few friends at the start of summer, so could we delay us going away for a bit?  And the second thing was I was wondering if you had any input about colleges?  I've had a few acceptance letters, four of them from out of state, and Mum said I should get your opinion before I start packing my stuff up and moving away aaaaaand, I kind of have to pick one soon!"  Again he laughed, his blue eyes twinkling as he released the most pressing concerns of his young life.

[Trillian]

Vincent blinked but was careful to keep his expression schooled into one of interest instead of surprise or disappointment.  He was also very careful not to look over at the folder laying on the coffee table between them; full of plane e-tickets already booked in both of their names, hotel reservations and receipts, adventure tours tickets and information, hire vehicles, shows, ski passes, helicopter flights, VIP passes to theme parks.  A lot of them booked for night time but also a bunch of things for the daytime (such as the helicopter ride over the greek islands and the one day African safari adventure through the world's biggest natural park), so that Owen could experience the world in sunshine.

Oh, it was possible to skip the first couple of weeks, but that would be skipping an entire continent.  Not exactly the 'around the world trip' he'd been planning.

Then there was college.  He wanted Owen to get a good education, he truly did, but it hadn't occurred to him that Owen would go to one out of state.  Such a thing hadn't occurred before.  He knew people nowadays travelled to exceptionally good Universities, such as Harvard or Oxford, but unless Owen was specifically going to one of these, he didn't see the point in travelling so far away.  Obviously Owen did, and Vincent was left mentally floundering for a moment as he wondered at his own lack of foresight.  Sometimes the changes in the world would hit him from a very different and unexpected angle, and he felt like he'd certainly been sucker punched tonight.

Twice.

"So you're not just here for a chat," he said, thinking about the text Owen had sent him.  It had provided him no clues that Owen wasn't interested in spending his summer with him.  Hurt, and unsure how to deal with it, he dropped his gaze to his linked fingers and inspected the whorls of his knuckles.

[Existentially Odd]

Owen frowned and tilted his head, watching Vincent's reaction and feeling like he'd said something horrible or crossed some sort of invisible line but he didn't have a clue what it was.  "Um... well, it is just a chat... about stuff... but I guess I'm here for your opinion too?" he queried, wondering if that was what he'd done wrong.  Had he not presaged the college choices thing enough?  Should he have brought his acceptance letters and started weighing up his options as they arrived?  Guilt started gnawing at him but he couldn't express it because he still didn't really know what the cause of it was, which left him feeling slightly panicked.  He felt the need to hug Vincent but didn't because it also looked like he'd crowded him with words already.  "Did... I say something wrong?" he pleaded.

[Trillian]

Vincent looked up again when Owen started talking.  The teenager looked similar to how Vincent remembered, but not quite the same, but he certainly sounded the same.  He was still unsure about himself, still seeking Vincent's approval.  If they were to be equals, did that mean he had to let go even more?

"No, I just didn't realise you were here to pick my brain," he said, and unlinked his fingers in order to point at Owen as though he'd played a trick on his vampire friend somehow.  It wasn't much of a retort, but it would have to do.  His hands returned to their former position.  "Did you want to talk it out?  You don't have a favourite college among the five you got into?  Congratulations, by the way," he said, and he found that he could summon a natural smile easily enough, for he was proud of this intelligent, good looking boy.

[Existentially Odd]

"Thanks," Owen grinned, visibly relaxing as Vincent reassured him that all was well.  "Yeah I do want to talk it out, my favourite is Brown University - of course," he pulled a face that announced 'who wouldn't be happy they scored an Ivy-League offer, "but Rhode Island... well, it'd be expensive and I'm not sure we can afford it.  Plus, it'd be so far away from you and Mum... but they offer so much diversity!  It's... a tough call," he nodded, having lifted his hands off his ankle in order to represent an imaginary scale of balance.

"Tell you what, you want to go with me to get the paperwork and we can maybe hash it out over dinner?" he asked, not having thought about grabbing his information on the way to work that afternoon.  Stupid, because it would be handy to look them all over with Vincent.  Over dinner was more of a spur of the moment suggestion because he was getting hungry after work (it was dinner time, after all) and Vincent usually didn't mind watching him eat.  He'd left the night open, though he'd not planned on being here all night either (consdiering he had an eight o'clock shift to be ready for).

[Trillian]

"Never mind the money," Vincent unlinked his hands once again in order to rest his elbows on the arms of the chair instead, and folded his hands atop one another upon his lap.  He sat back now, settling into a more comfortable pose.  "Never mind the distance, or the reputation, or what colleges your friends are going to.  Just tell me which college is best for you."

He had to cut through the bullshit, and looking at papers and brochures would only be looking at promises and advertising.

[Existentially Odd]

Owen blinked, surprised to hear Vincent be so perfunctory about it all but feeling bad because he thought he knew why.  "Vincent, I can't ask you to pay for my college tuition if that's what you're getting at," he said seriously.  "Brown is the best for me but we do have to mind the money."

[Trillian]

Vincent frowned at Owen, unsure as to why he would be so worried about money all of a sudden.  Was it because of his job?

"What gave you the idea you were short on it?  Did your mother say something to you?" he asked, doubtful that she would've said anything of the kind.  He trusted Karen, and was always grateful that he'd found her when he had.  He had no doubt she felt the same way about him, considering the gift he'd given her.  He thought it was coming from Owen's perception as to how the family bank balance was going.  He doubted Owen had a clue how well off he and Karen were, because she'd always wanted to keep them comfortable but modest, and he'd only agreed with that completely.

[Existentially Odd]

"Well, no," Owen admitted, "but it's Brown University!  It's not at all cheap and really, how can one insurance payout last forever if I take such a significant chunk out of it?" the teenager reasoned, having come up with this theory all by himself.

Since dabbling in the world a little more, he'd certainly become aware of the cost of living - especially of supporting a lifestyle involving lots of fun and socialisation such as his - and he'd come to understand just how much his mother had given him by buying him everything he'd always needed, as well as driving him everywhere he'd wanted to go.  Life was expensive and it was only bound to become more so with a college education on the cards!

[Trillian]

There were two ways to handle Owen's questions about money.  He could point out that Tate Harper had been a soldier killed in action and Karen received an ongoing widow's pension from the military (which she did, but there was no way it covered all of her bills) as well as the insurance payout, or he could declare his own involvement by explaining he was a property invester (which Owen knew) and had invested Karen's money in properties that gave her money.  This part wasn't as true as the former, because there were no investments for Karen, just for Vincent, though he did make large payments into her account on a monthly basis.  He doubted Owen had seen the figures.

"For a start, I'm sure she's got a college fund for you socked away somewhere," he said, not knowing if Karen had or hadn't, but it seemed her style.  It wasn't like she needed to.  "And that money has likely grown to a very large sum over the years.  Also, she hasn't relied on just the insurance money, because she gets a widow's pension," he pointed out.  "I've always told her if she needed more money she should come to me, but she never has."

Because what I already give her covers everything she needs and more, he did not say.

"You didn't talk to your mother about the money, did you?" he guessed with a smile.  "You expect her to sacrifice everything she has for you, because she would, but I'm sure she's planned for your future."

[Existentially Odd]

Owen nibbled on the inside of his lip, blushing when Vincent teased him about not talking to his mother.  He hadn't, because the fees had seemed so exhorbitant to him that he'd thought he'd just make this decision on his own.  He'd considered simply staying in the city and going to Watson because it was the cheapest option but his heart was set on adventure elsewhere.  He'd eat his heart out, though, if it meant keeping the people he loved the most happy.

"I haven't talked about the costs, no," he confessed.  "All we've really talked about so far were the far-flung placements offered to me and she suggested I talk to you about going away; I figured that she was hinting that going away maybe wouldn't be the best option, or the easiest, and connected the money to it," he shrugged.  It hadn't made sense to him that she'd make this suggestion based only on the fact that she and Vincent would miss him - he knew they would, but he assumed they'd cope with him going away to study for four years and coming back when he could, so there had to be more to it.  Money had seemed the logical next step.

None of this seemed really logical, though he couldn't explain why the hairs on the back of his neck were standing up.  His mother had never cried poor and Vincent had just said that she'd never come to him for help, but from everything he'd ever heard, military widows' pensions were nothing to build a college savings fund on and surely his dad's insurance had been government-based, too?  His mother had never worked, they'd never wanted for anything and every bill had always been paid on time as far as he knew... but nobody else he knew worked like that.  Every kid he'd ever had conversations with at school had, at one time or another, talked about their parents' money woes and how it affected their life at the time.  But never his mother.  It was weird - though he'd always been grateful for it - but it was nothing he could discuss with Vincent, not without details or genuine cause to worry.  Vincent was right; somehow, his mother was likely well-off enough to cope with sending him to university and he shouldn't worry about the semantics like he was.  He should just enjoy the choice he had.

"So... yeah, I guess I should talk to her about Brown.  Just a couple of hours out of New York!" he grinned, scrunching his shoulders up excitedly and then dropping them back into a relaxed position.  "That will mean you and I don't have much time away, though," he warned, "because if I do plan to go there, I'll also need to work out accommodation and stuff.  I won't have much of a summer holiday at all, getting ready for college!  Where were you thinking we'd go?" he asked sweetly, flippantly changing the subject back and forth in his excitement of pondering a dream coming true.

[Trillian]

Vincent realised his mistake, once Owen started talking about where Brown University was.  The vampire had believed it might be a short drive away - such as the next city, but New York wasn't the next city.  Some people did drive there, but most would take a plane.  It seemed much too far, and would put Owen out of reach.  Karen had even set it up for Vincent to gently guide Owen to staying in the city, but he'd been too surprised and thinking too generously to take advantage of it, and now the opportunity was gone - thanks to his own supportive words.

He ignored the remark about the holiday, because it had been tagged on the end of a great deal of college talk.

"I'm afraid you're going to have to explain why you need a great deal of diversity offered.  I was of the understanding that one goes to University to specialise in a particular field?  What occupation were you hoping to achieve?" he asked with interest.  They'd never spoken of Owen's education beyond high school - perhaps because Vincent had assumed (and these assumptions were really beginning to weigh him down, he saw) that Owen would already be talking about vampires and eternal life by now.  Even if he hadn't, Vincent had certainly believed the youth would go to a University here.  If not at the huge Arts college (because that was limited only to the creative), then perhaps the other smaller colleges that were peppered about the city, that offered other specialised fields in business, various sciences and such.

[Existentially Odd]

Owen frowned, again tilting his head as Vincent's conversation seemed to change direction.  Was it because he didn't want to cut their holiday short in order to help him settle in to university at Brown?  That would be silly, though, because a holiday was nothing compared to getting himself organised to study.  "Uh... well, I was considering an arts degree of some sort - likely in literature, which will help me become a journalist, eventually.  I'm not completely set on it, but I know I want to do something that will let me travel and reporting on the world's troubles seems like an excellent and interesting way to do that.  Law might work, too."

He shrugged awkwardly as he finished speaking, thinking he probably looked ridiculous to a man who'd lived six hundred years, trying to sort out his miniscule existence after just eighteen years.  Truthfully, he wasn't sure what he wanted to do but his classes were heavily language-based and he could do some undergraduate stuff at university that might help him narrow it down in the next year.  Journalism did appeal but he hadn't been game enough to broach the idea that he might willingly (one day) put himself in the line of fire, trying to report (on camera, of course) from one war-torn country or another.  Lawyers travelled a lot, too, and he enjoyed performing in plays, delivering speeches and problem solving so he thought he'd be good at that but there were a lot more years of study involved and he wasn't committed fully.

[Trillian]

"Arts degree?" Vincent repeated incredulously, and now there was confusion and a little bit of anger behind the words as well.  His fingers found the end of the chair's arms and gripped them tightly.  "Is there something wrong with your current life that you feel the need to remove yourself entirely from it?  I can understand my being put to one side as you try and sort out what you want for yourself, what kind of person you want to be, but I never imagined that you would want to distance yourself from your roots so completely that you would turn up your nose at one of the better Arts Universities in the country because it doesn't have the kind of reputation you seek and is obviously too close to home.  Am I holding you back, Owen?  Am I so boring, now?  Have I done something so horrendous to you that you can't stand to be in the same city as me?"  He held up his hand when Owen looked ready to protest, whether he was interrupting or not, Vincent continued.  "You might wish to tell yourself that you want to find your own way, that you want to stand on your own without support.  You tell yourself this as you turn your back on your friends who've already proven themselves to you.  I haven't heard you talk about Maddy all year.  Decided she wasn't as interesting as the rest of the people in your new life?  I've been wrong, to let you go without saying anything, without offering my opinion, to sit back and let you be.  I've watched you grow more distant and more distant, telling myself you'll be back, but I've been a fool.  You've been a fool.  Are you truly so unimaginative that you haven't even considered a different option for yourself?  One that would give you all the time in the world to learn the Arts, to travel the world, to do as you wish?"

He hadn't meant to spit it all out, but his anxieties and fears had finally overtaken him.  He didn't remember ever becoming so emotional over something like this.  The last time he'd exploded at someone had been at Lorica, after discovering that she'd taken on a lover behind his back.  This was hardly the same thing, so it was a surprise to him.  He was sitting back, agitated but determined to allow Owen the chance to respond.  He doubted anything good would come of this, however.  It was very likely, following his lack of foresight and eventuating in this one outburst, that he'd just unravelled many years of work.

He didn't think he could put himself through this again.

[Existentially Odd]

Owen had dropped his crossed leg and leaned back into the chair he was on, his fists bunched on his knees like a child posing for a school photograph.  His mouth was hanging open, jaw slack, but mainly that was because he'd tried to say something and been stopped.  Overrun.  Attacked?  He didn't know what had just happened, because he'd never seen Vincent angry before, had never suffered his ire like this.  The most he'd ever received by way of insight had come last summer at Havana, when Owen had met a boy Vincent didn't like and he'd admitted it.  This went far beyond that and there were a lot of messages for him to sort through while he sat there, feeling like and unsuspecting tornado victim.

"I... " he began, but really didn't know where he was going with his argument yet, as his brain hadn't prepared anything for him to say, so he licked his lips and had to try again.  He cleared his throat minutely before he began.  "I haven't gone anywhere," he assured Vincent, his voice steady and calm.  "Obviously I should've come and visited you more often, 'cos you're angry at me but... I'm sorry, okay?  You should've said something if it was getting this bad!  You know I still love you, you're never boring, I just... got distracted," he reasoned, trying to keep a pleading note out of his voice.  He knew there was more to say but he paused anyway, waiting to see if Vincent would respond before he continued addressing the really freaky thing his friend had just said.

[Trillian]

Vincent choked back a nasty scoff and what came out was simply a puff of air.

"It's more than being distracted, Owen.  You're actively making choices, now."

[Existentially Odd]

"Well, yeah!" Owen retorted, feeling a little exasperated at being continually reprimanded for something that he saw as perfectly normal - because it was, in his circle of friends - and not as a problem.  "That's what you do when you finish school!  You make choices about your life!  Where you want to live, what you want to learn, who you want to spend time with!  It doesn't mean you forget everything from the past, though!  You just grow!  I'm still growing!  Why would I want to cut my life in half by becoming a vampire?" he demanded, his voice rather high because he didn't understand what made Vincent think such a lifestyle choice was right for him and this whole conversation was confusing.  He was confused!

Of course, as soon as he'd said that bit about being a vampire he regretted it, for it was not tactfully phrased - and he hadn't been entirely sure that that was what Vincent thought was a better option than being... what was it?  Unimaginitive.  Too late, though, it was out now.

[Trillian]

He blinked as though he'd been slapped.  It was only fair, he supposed, for he'd done enough slapping himself.  Owen was upset and angry, he could hear it in his voice, see it in his actions, know it from his words.  Vincent was the past.  Owen was growing, still growing.  He was choosing to spend time with people other than Vincent, and apparently it wasn't Vincent's place to feel bad about it.  It was just Owen moving on, like they'd all moved on.

Half a life.  He saw Vincent as having half a life.  Was this because he didn't see the sun?  Was sunshine so grand that Vincent was foolish to enjoy the moon?  He was right though, Vincent did have half a life.  That was why he'd sought out a companion; the companion Owen didn't want to be.

There was a long silence as Vincent stared at a spot on the far wall to his left.  Owen was in his peripheral but he didn't want to look at him.  It was too hurtful, too potent to see what he was losing.  He couldn't undo everything and go back to where their night had begun.  Well, he could, but he didn't want to mess with Owen's mind.  As soon as he started doing that, there would be no stopping as he sought the perfect outcome, and then it would be meaningless.

After a while he heard Owen speak his name.  By instinct he looked at the boy.

Not a boy anymore, look at him.  A man, now.  A young man.  Still not old enough.  Still rash and impulsive.  Still choosing to leave you.

Their eyes met and once again Vincent was overwhelmed with sadness.  Owen thought him as half a man, living half a life, and didn't want that for himself.

"Go, then."

It meant now and forever.

[Existentially Odd]

Those words, spoken so coldly as Vincent stared straight into what felt like Owen's soul, tore into him in ways he'd never experienced.  Not even Paige had hurt him so profoundly and she'd worked at it.  Vincent had achieved it with two stony words.  "No, Vincent, I'm sorry!" the teenager babbled and stood, reaching a hand towards his friend - to touch his arm?  To hug him as he'd used to do?  To paw pathetically at him and beg forgiveness for something he'd said so flippantly? -  but stopping when the vampire turned away again.

Vincent couldn't look at him; he'd been cruel and he'd known he hadn't said it right but all his frantic mind was focussed on was fixing it.  And he didn't know how.  Seeing Vincent's handsome profile turned in his direction once more broke him and he was utterly bewildered about what to do.  He drew in breath to say something and it hitched in his throat, signalling that he was about to cry.  Great, in the middle of this discussion about how grown up and ready for his life he was, he was going to start crying?  He couldn't bear being cast aside, he couldn't fathom Vincent's anger and he very definitely couldn't make this better just by saying sorry.  With a strangled sob, he turned and hastened out of the room, blinded by tears and unable to think straight.

When he got to his car, he sat behind the wheel for many minutes, trying to cry this pain away but it wouldn't go.  His best friend, his oldest friend and truest companion was so mad at him that he couldn't even look at him... because he'd said he wanted to go away to university and then slandered what he was.  How could he have been so cruel?  How did he fix it?

Eventually, he stopped crying long enough to be able to drive the relatively short distance across the suburb to his own home.  Dazedly, he entered the house and dropped his keys, feeling hollow and lost.  His mother walked past the entryway and saw him standing there, his fists in his pockets and staring at the floor and she backtracked, laughing at him.  Laughing!  He boggled at her as she grinned and walked closer to him, oblivious to his torment.

"He told you, didn't he?" she asked, just about quivering with excitement.

"What?" was all Owen could say.

"Vincent!  He told you about the world trip!  I can see you're in shock, oh my goodness, you must be so excited! I bet you can't wait for summer to come - this year more than any year ever!" she enthused gaily, gripping his upper arms and sort of hugging him.

A cold wave passed over Owen's body as he recalled that curious envelope, thick with bulky information, placed so curiously on the coffee table in the sitting room - where Vincent had directed him to sit.  He looked strangely at his mother - well, he must have, for she finally registered that something with him wasn't right, or maybe she just noticed his red-rimmed eyes and she started to pull back, saying his name and asking what was wrong.  He pulled out of her grip and snatched up his keys again.  "I have to go back to Vincent's!" he announced and raced back out the door, gunning his car engine and screeching out of the driveway.

He pulled into Vincent's driveway in much the same way minutes later and ran for the door, assuming it wouldn't be locked since he'd just left through it a very short while before.  Breathlessly, he came to a stop before Vincent (who hadn't moved), his shoulders tensed and his hands balled into fists by his side.  "What world trip?" he demanded.

[Trillian]

Vincent was aware of Owen's car pulling into the driveway, had heard the youth's feet stomping across the yard to the front step and then the young man himself was in view, making demands on a topic Vincent would rather forget.  His gaze lifted to look up at the blonde teen and he surprised himself with how steady his voice was.

"It's best you disregard it.  There's no point tainting one holiday with regrets about another," he said.

Karen must have said something, and he was surprised that she would interfere so directly.

[Existentially Odd]

Without getting any clear response out - maybe because he was so relieved that Vincent finally spoke to him at last - Owen burst into tears again.  Hitching breaths that wouldn't steady and swiping at snot that wouldn't quit pouring out of his nose, he fell to his knees at Vincent's feet, only daring to press his forehead against his leg and wail at the carpet.  "I'm sorry, Vincent!  I didn't mean to put you second!  And I'm sorry about... what I said... about... being a vampi-ire," he sobbed, his shoulders heaving as he tried to get a grip on himself and get his confused emotions under control to no avail.

[Trillian]

Vincent couldn't let Owen cry without touching him in some way.  He caressed his head, cupped his face between his hands and lifted it up so that he could look at those lovely eyes.

"You're sorry," Vincent agreed sadly, "but the truth came out, did it not?  You see my existence as dark and pointless."

[Existentially Odd]

"No!  Not pointless!  You're not pointless!" Owen argued, grasping onto Vincent's hands and coming up onto his knees so that Vincent didn't have to lean down so much.  With something new to focus on, it made it easier to stop sobbing but there were still tears falling and the snot wouldn't stop, so he was swiping at his face with his forearm (over Vincent's hand) every now and then while he implored his friend with glassy light blue eyes and heartfelt words.

"Dark, yes but... look, I don't really understand your life and I just don't like the thought of never being able to go out in the sun again!  And only drinking blood!  It surprised me when you told me I was an idiot for not considering it because, well, I never have!  You shocked me!  I didn't even know you could make me like you - I mean,  you've told me the logistics of how it happened and my mother has always gone on about how wonderful it would be to have time to do everything and how exciting your life must be and how amazing it would be to live beyond one life time but I never thought about it for me!  It was always just your thing!  I'm sorry it hurts you - it's nothing against you, it's just that it's not something I want for me yet!"

His words were a babble, punctuated by snot swipes and imploring squeezes of Vincent's hands against his face.  He felt like a liar saying 'yet', for he didn't think he'd ever understand vampirism enough to want to become one, but he wanted to make his friend happy.  It was finally clear to him that Vincent had likely thought he might be able to change him into a vampire and then they could always be friends, sharing even more together when they were the same, and it was an extra dash of hurt on top for Owen to tell him that vampirism was a half-life to him; he hid it well, but he'd probably had dreams of them always being able to holiday together, travel the world by night... actually, it didn't sound all that bad.  He had a fair idea of what he'd be giving up now, though; what would he gain?

"I mean, what's fantastic about being a vampire?  Do you love it?"

[Trillian]

Vincent no longer carried a hankerchief on him, even though he had for centuries.  He'd been raised to always have one, and it had been difficult for him to give up carrying the small piece of material around with him.  He hadn't missed it, until now.

It was the 'yet' that did it.  The false hope Owen gave him soared high and managed to lift his heart a little.  The fact Owen had even come back helped too (though his demanding question had been regretul).

"It's... I'm lonely, now," Vincent declared, confirming Owen's suspicions before continuing to answer his question, speaking gently.  "But when I was sired--everything was so vivid!  The moon is the sun, to my eyes.  The sky is a lovely purple-black, on a new moon, and purple-blue on the full.  People have the heat that I no longer gain in the day."  He tilted his head slightly.  "Blood tastes different.  I remember thinking to myself that it would never replace a buffet spread, but once I got over my disgust of the concept and actually drank it... it was, more than tolerable, it was water to a thirsting man.  Refreshing and recharging.  It was harder to those willing to share it, but now there are clubs filled with those who throw themselves at you.  It is easier to survive these days, being like me.  Mind, there are more of us around, now."  He helped Owen stand on his feet as he stood with him.  "Here, blow your nose," he said, and led him through to the box of tissues that were always in their spot in the study, across the foyer, and handed him one.

"I don't miss being human.  The benefits of what I am far outweigh seeing the sun and eating food.  I don't mind the smells of the latter, though I know a few of my kind eventually become repulsed by it.  If you wish to learn skills, there are so many available to you beyond the mortal realm.  There are many I haven't come close to mastering, but there are those that now come easily."  He gripped Owen's shoulders to get his full attention and stared at him intently.  "Even though I am able, I have never looked into your mind, never peeked into your thoughts, never inserted or removed memories, never made you do something.  Same goes for your mother."

[Existentially Odd]

Owen nodded mutely, instinctively wiping at his nose with the third tissue he'd used, though he'd more or less blown himself out with the two previous.  Now it was just something to do while he tried to ingest Vincent's words.  He had to admit, it sounded a lot better than he'd ever thought it could and that just brought home to him how ignorant he was to this whole business.

"Still... you were older when you became... one.  You'd lived a lot of life - I'm still getting there," he argued - as only a teenager, who sees anyone over thirty as 'old' could.  "What you're saying sounds interesting and I really think you haven't told me much at all about how you do stuff, but I stil feel like I'd be losing out if I was, um, changed at my age.  I just... I need some time to think about it, okay?  And probably a lot more information," he finished, his tone slightly admonishing.

[Trillian]

Vincent looked at Owen for a long moment before commenting.

"Even if you were begging me to sire you right now, I would make you wait," he admitted, for he also believed Owen needed at least some physical maturing before being given eternity.  There were far too many young-looking vampires that Vincent had seen, and he wasn't about to be impulsive with his actions after being impulsive with his words incurred this disaster.

"I had daughters whose futures I had to take care of before I chose to be sired," he added, for it had been only them that stopped him from joining Lorica earlier.  "And you're right, you're ignorant to my world, but I've not thrust it upon you, waiting instead for you to question me about it further when you were ready."  He chuckled.  "I didn't expect your curiousity to dry up so completely after you first found out and had some questions.  I assumed you would think about it again."

[Existentially Odd]

"I guess... I haven't been thinking about much outside myself at all, lately," Owen admitted softly, dropping his gaze from Vincent's and watching his hands fret at the tissues he was holding.  Certainly, he'd been busy with work and school, but he'd always made time to hang out with friends, to connect on a leisurely basis... but not with Vincent.  And then tonight he'd come round to discuss plans for his future that still didn't include his friend.  It was no wonder he'd got so mad and Owen was feeling terribly guilty.

"I won't go away," he said, looking back up at Vincent's green eyes, "I'll study here so you can teach me more about vampires and I can have a better understanding.  I didn't ask too many questions after I first found out what you were because it was all a bit... scary, really.  But I'm older now and I like learning new things - I'm better at learning things, even - so... it'll be easier.  I'll make time so you can help me understand everything properly," he nodded encouragingly up at Vincent, vaguely recalling that he'd once been intensely curious about what it would be like to be fed on by a vampire but he hadn't been confident about pursuing it.  He would be now.

[Trillian]

The words warmed his heart, something that he'd been so sure would never happen again after Owen walked out on him.  But he'd come back.  Yes, it was because of the holiday, but the outcome had ended dramatically different from discussing an around-the-world trip.  He would have Owen within reach, the youth was offering him that at the very least, and eternity at the most.

With the kind of emotion welling inside of him that he found very difficult to contain, he reached for and pulled the teenager into him, embracing him tightly and closing his eyes to shut out at least one of his senses.  He was overwhelmed.  He was filled with hope.

He was happy.