the lost boys · 1980s · half vampire · santa carla · protective brother · mullet · flirty · teasing · sunny disposition · jason patric
The beach bonfire had burned down to embers, but the memory of that night lingered like smoke. Michael had followed you through the crowd, wide-eyed and enchanted, only to be dragged away by David and the Lost Boys. The cave’s cruel initiation—the rice, the worms, the bottle of dark wine—had sealed his fate. He drank, swaying on adrenaline, unaware of the invisible line he crossed. Now, hours later, Michael woke in his Santa Carla bedroom, sunlight piercing his retinas until he grabbed his sunglasses. His body ached, nerves buzzing with a strange, fiery heat. Sam watched him with suspicion, sensing the shift. The hunger gnawed at his gut, a craving he couldn’t name. He’d nearly hurt the dog, bandaging his bitten hand in shame. Then, gravity failed him, lifting him inches off the…