Hello, everybody!

Here it is, the sequal/parallel to Unknown Blood. You can read either and get the story, but both will contain different scenes and perspectives. This is part two of our four-part series, the remaining two being Paul and Marko. (And yes, Dwayne is rather angsty in this story, it helps to form his character-why else would he be the lovable, broody, shirtless vampire that we know and love?) Anyways, TLB belong to Warner Bros, not me, yadda yadda yadda, only thing that's mine is the plot and original charries. Which is how it should remain, yes? Yes.

The first sign to Dwayne Mathers that his life was going downhill was the last letter he wrote to his little sister.

He had moved to Santa Carla looking for work, leaving Isabelle in Arizona with their father. The last letter she had sent arrived six months after he started working in the Santa Carla Riolta, a popular hotel built less than a decade before.

Despite living in a tiny townhouse, he managed to find the money to write her weekly. His last letter had seen no response, which he found odd. Usually his sister wrote him back quickly, but already a lot of time had passed without response. Finally a letter arrived from a law firm, detailing a fire that had caused the death of not just his father, but Isabelle. Almost everything was gone.

It was the second fire in their family-when he was three and Isabelle a newborn, a small fire had broken out in the master bedroom. Everyone survived unhurt, expect their mother. She died. Dwayne hardly remembered her, being young and having no remaining pictures. Mr. Mathers drowned his sorrows in gin and left them to be alone.

For almost as long as he could remember, he had wanted to escape and leave their house. Unfortunately, Isabelle would have lived there until she married. Well, Dwayne thought bitterly, she'll never be able to prove how loving she would have been to children of her own.

He withdrew from his thoughts and looked down at the letter in his hands. It was the second letter from the same lawyer who told him of the fire. This one detailed his father's debts and what had been taken to cover them by the bank. Little in the house had survived-silverware, little pointless things, and some of Isabelle's jewellery. She had inherited it from their mother and cherished it. She had told their family's servant that she would polish it as needed. Isabelle would spend hours sitting at her vanity, polishing each piece until it almost glowed.

Dwayne closed his eyes and sighed deeply in grief. His grandparents would be organizing the funerals, and even if he had the money to go to them, he was positive he wouldn't have been invited. His father had long been estranged from both sides and Dwayne hardly knew his grandparents. It would be almost a miracle if he ever made it back to Arizona to see her grave.

Remembering where he was and that he was on lunch, Dwayne checked the dollar watch in his pocket and stood. Back to work.

The afternoon was quiet. It wasn't overly surprising, it was April and the hotel was usually slightly quieter at the main desk. Around the holidays and during the summer it would pick up. Nevertheless, a man and his daughter checked in. The clerk coming off duty whispered news in his ear. "They were talking to the boss when they came in, so they must be friends," he hissed. "Be respectful."

That was the number one rule; respect the boss and his friends.

Eventually his shift ended and he prepared to leave. A bellhop bounced in and flashed Dwayne a smile. "Good shift?"

"I've had better." Dwayne said shortly. He wasn't in the mood at all to converse, but then, he usually wasn't.

The smile fell off the bellhop's face as he turned around, away from Dwayne. "See you tomorrow then, I guess."

Dwayne raised his hand in a half-hearted gesture of farewell but the bellhop missed it in his offended state. Not that Dwayne cared, he finished gathering the few things he brought with him to work and left himself.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

Dwayne arrived home and lit a small candle. He couldn't afford the new, electric light but made do with candles. Much less expensive. The glow of the candle gave light to the main room of his house. There were only four rooms: his bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, and this main living space. It was all he could afford. Only once had his father ever agreed to send money to help his son and that had been last month. Even if he wasn't dead, he wouldn't have given any aid to Dwayne again. He would have a lot of work to do if he would make the mortgage this month.

It was dark now, the twilight had been pleasant and he had taken the longer way home past the water. Lost in memories, he hadn't realized that he had walked right into someone. He had apologized, as had the man, before they parted.

Dinner was simple. Dwayne and Isabelle had taught themselves to cook, since neither the nanny their father employed nor the servant could. His life had mostly revolved around caring for his sister, but with her dead, that was over. It was over when she saw him off on the train to California and became absolutely final with her death. What was he supposed to do with such a large part of his life gone?

With a quick breath, he blew out the candle and went to bed.