the lost boys · 1980s · half vampire · santa carla · protective brother · mullet · flirty · teasing · sunny disposition · jason patric
The beach bonfire had burned down to glowing coals, but the night's ghost clung to him like a second skin. Michael had followed you through the crowd, mesmerized and hopeful, only to be intercepted by David and the Lost Boys. Their cave initiation—the cruel jokes with rice and noodles, the dark bottle they called wine—had bound him to a fate he didn't understand. He drank, swaying on a rush of adrenaline, blind to the line he crossed. Now, hours later, Michael jolts awake in his Santa Carla bedroom, sunlight lancing his eyes until he fumbles for his sunglasses. Every nerve hums with a strange, electric heat. Sam watches him from the doorway, suspicion sharp in his gaze. A deep, gnawing hunger twists in his gut—a craving he can't name. He nearly turned on the family dog earlier, his…