Author's Notes:

Ok so I tried to take one of my favourite romantic couples and place them into this story, but a very harsh but truthful reader told me it didn't quite work. But hey, that's what writing is about - experimenting So I've placed this in the Vampire section, where it should have been originally. Until the 3rd Chapter things don't really heat up much but it's important for you to read the first 2 in order to understand everything and relevant points which connect to later in the story.

Enjoy

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The small venue was filled with the company of elegance and pride - confidence and collection - judgement and dignity. All men in their grey and dark suits, and their twittering wives or mistresses held onto their arm or followed obediently. Though their touches appeared warm, money was the only true chain holding them to their marriage. Champagne had been flowing from earlier hours still, patte and crackers all the way from France. Yes. This was a very high maintenance celebration.

As the guests continued to mingle by chatter, laughter, nod of false idolisation or else sly glints in their eyes, a middle-aged man confidently made his way up onto the small stage at the front of the room. Clearly, the alcohol was tickling his senses, but he could still stand and speak properly. He tapped the microphone a few times so that a thudding echoed around the room, then he, politely, cleared his throat. People finally began to look his way and deliver attention.

"Evening, friends and family," The man smiled, holding his glass up in respect, "before I make any announcements, I would just like to thank you all for being here tonight in celebration of my baby brother's twenty-first. Where is the little nipper?"

Looking around in the crowed, his younger brother was spotted by a table with an older couple. People applauded, while those near to him ushered him up onto the stage despite his drunken protesting. It didn't work. In no time he had stumbled up onto the stage and now had the arm of his older brother wrapped around his hot neck.

"I remember the day this young man was born - I was just turning twenty myself. The first thing that came into my head was, 'how in the blazes do I make sure I'm the perfect big brother?' I was terrified out of my wits." The man chuckled with a shake of his head.

People giggled, others remained quiet but smiled in admiration of the relationship between the two brothers. The 21-year-old was clearly quite embarrassed, but he was enjoying all the attention nonetheless.

"So for years, I was the football partner," His brother continued, "the one who taught him how to stick up for himself, the one who dealt with any bullies, the one who showed him how to walk the walk."

"Which explains the spilt glasses earlier." His younger brother added cockily.

More laughter, even though the joke really wasn't that funny. Now, the speech was coming to an end - everyone could hear it in the man's tone of voice. And this is where I would be entering the picture.

"But tonight, I'm going to fulfil and complete my long, tiring quest of bringing this young man into adulthood. Tonight, I got you a little something, which I'm sure you'll appreciate..." He concluded.

With that, he removed his arm from around his baby brother so that he could turn him around to face the red curtains behind them both. Out stepped a young woman, around the same age as the birthday boy. She was dressed in a grey pencil-skirt with a white shirt and black blouse, with glasses on the end of her nose. She walked straight up to the birthday man and smiled politely. In her hand, was an envelope, which she held out to give to the man, which he accepted along with a courteous hug from the unfamiliar woman.

Here's the catch - the real birthday treat.

But as the young man leant away to open the envelope excitedly, his hand had somehow ripped away the pencil skirt from around her bottom half. The woman gasped, in exaggeration it seemed, and slapped her hand to her red lips in false shock. The poor young man didn't know what to do - the audience were gasping and looking around in horror, what with a pair of white French panties staring them in the faces. The older brother, however, was smiling behind his shocked eyes.

"Oh, how dare you!" The woman exclaimed.

The poor young man quickly removed his blazer and attempted to hold it up against the woman. Subtly, she moved her hand to her back and tore away the Velcro seal so that, when she pushed him away in pretend anger, her shirt flew away with him. To all eyes, it appeared that the poor birthday boy was just making a huge mess!

"Uh..." The Birthday boy mumbled into the microphone, overly embarrassed.

The woman burst into tears and covered her face with her hands. The younger brother was just beginning to apologise into the microphone, when something happened. Something changed. The woman stopped crying. Her hands slipped down from her face to reveal a flirtatious smile - the audience was watching in confusion while the birthday man continued to stutter and explain desperately.

His older brother winked at the woman and she nodded in understanding. Walking over to the young man, she suddenly slunk her arm around his shoulders and cut him off in mid-sentence from her company. He looked at her - she smiled playfully.

"Happy birthday, Michael Lore - I'm your Kissagram. And you owe me one, big kiss." She purred into the microphone.

Suddenly, it all came into place. Michael and his guests all realised that it was all a big hoax set up by his wicked older brother and couldn't help but laugh and cheer at the fun of it all. The fact that it was such a crude and embarrassing prank made it all the more entertaining! And yes, Michael did receive a birthday kiss, though it was all in good, fun nature.

"What are big brothers for, huh?" Michael's brother joked; everyone laughed.

This is where I'll interrupt and speak to you in present tense, and in first person, to make it a little easier. See the hot brunette kissing the birthday boy? Yes - you probably figured it out long ago, but that's me. Doing my job. Doing what I'm paid to do: a Kissogram. And yes, I did just call myself hot.

If I wasn't, I wouldn't have gotten this job, so don't go mistaking my factual attitude with arrogance.

You're probably wondering how or why a girl would go into a career like this. Well, firstly, you get paid to look sexy but not' slutty'. How many women can do a job like this without needing to get naked or perform further procedures than kissing? Well, it's a long story which I'll save for another time, later in the story. For now, all you need to know is who I am, what my job is about, and why it's relevant to the story. Which it is - greatly.

I am sent from party to party, birthdays, work do's, Christmas bashes, Stag nights; I was even at a Hen night, once. Oh yes, I've kissed men and women, from the age of 18 to fifty. I've had plenty of experience from sloppy kisses that make me wonder why I put up with this job, to the most soft and sensual. Though I've never really had a favourite - just kisses which are nicer than most. Nothing special.

But anyhow, my job is fun, interesting, beneficial, and the pay is more than enough to supply me with a satisfactory lifestyle. However, it's also about to become the cause for all the problems that arise in my story. It will be my path to a new life - my path to battles, and also my awakening. I don't blame you if you don't believe it; I still find it hard to accept all that has happened to me even as I write this now. But it did happen.

And I need to share it with someone.