"Hey! Where the hell did the ball go!?" A lanky boy with muscular legs searched the side of the school with his hand over his eyes, for the sun was bright and hot. His other friends ran over to the side where the ball had been kicked and surveyed with him.

All of the stopped as they noticed where the ball had gone. It was beside a black booted foot, covered in the smoke from four cigarettes. The booted foot moved ever so slightly and the boys looked up at the man. He was tall with a black trench coat, a nice white dress-shirt, dark pants, and some recently acquired black bracelets.

"Crap. . .", one of the friends on the field stated after the team had gathered around staring at the guy. "The Goth guy and his friends have it. . ."

The tall, black and curly haired boy took a drag of his cigarette and blew it out in a huff of silence. "Fucking conformist mexican wannabes. . ."

The girl next to him copied his cigarette movements and closed her eyes. "I wonder what would happen if their legs were cut off?" She opened her dark eyes, framed by the short black hair that she had had since elementary school. Her dress rounded her busty figure at a size nineteen with black ruffles and purple cobwebs around her huge chest. Her long, raven fingernails wrapped themselves around the pure white cigarette, and she continued to bring it back up to her black lips.

The other boy next to the girl rolled his eyes and spoke with an unusually soft voice. "Know what, Henrietta? That sounds just like my thoughts excactly. . ." His huge raccooned eyes peered at the soccer players with sarcasm and dread. The players all had to slit their eyes just to see what the hell the red haired goth kid was doing. All of the goth kids were in the shade of the high school, completely hidden from the sun's rays.

"Hey!" All four goth kids looked, the smallest obviously having to move slightly for he was behind the tallest. The first soccer player motioned to the tall goth. "Ethan, dude, can we have our ball!?"

Ethan took another drag of his cigarette and glanced nonchalantly at the bright red ball before his foot. He raised his eyebrows and looked back toward his friends. The red haired goth rolled his eyes again and flipped back some hair that had fallen into his eyes for the umpteenth time in his life. "No way! Tell them to come get it themselves!"

Ethan flicked his eyes over to Henrietta, and she shook her hair slightly. "Just get jew fag and his boytoy to kick it over to the beaner wannabes", she shrugged, "I mean, they are coming this way anyway."

In fact they were. Kyle and Stan were growing larger, holding hands and walking together, becoming closer every step they took. The green capped daywalker had his head resting on his boyfriend's shoulder, looking tired as usual probably because of his over achieving, orthodox ways. Stan was holding the latter's hand and whispering into Kyle's unexposed ear, making the other giggle with the lame jokes.

"Yeah, I guess. . .", Ethan blew out smoke in a pout and waited until the two were close enough. "Hey, wannabe Raven", he started while intaking another breath of smoke, "can you kick this ball over to the soccer lame-o's field?"

Stan halted in place and Kyle raised his head from the taller's shoulder. "Hold on", Stan told Kyle who merely nodded and watched as Stan picked up the ball and tossed it back to the soccer players. "Fucking lazy ass Goth emos. . .", Stan mumbled as he walked back to his boyfriend and fitted his hand with Kyle's. "Thanks for waiting."

"No problem", Kyle smiled and kissed Stan on the lips which made both men laugh.

The red haired goth huffed another cloud of cancer from his mouth. "Fucking conformist faggots."

Stan glanced back over to the goths. "Shut the fuck up, Dylan! You're probably the gayest of all your faggot friends here!"

Kyle shook his head, hating it when Stan started fights with just about anybody but Cartman, because, God forbid, Cartman was ever nice to them!

Ethan blew out more smoke as Dylan fumed out smoke from his mouth and fumed out detest from his ears and eyes. "I'm not fucking gay, conformist prick!" His yell was slightly louder than his voice because Dylan hated to speak to anyone, especially conformists who used the same comebacks with all the people they met.

The bell rang just then, and Dylan stood up, deciding he liked the sound of going to art class, where Stan and his fuckbuddy were nowhere to be found. The red haired goth stormed away from his group and the swag fags, almost colliding with someone in the hallway.

"Hey!" The voice was slightly feminine sounding in a weird way and it attracted the attention of Dylan as he looked up to see Mike Makowski, the vampire fag that nicknamed himself Vampir. His hair barely drenched his shoulders in a dark river filled with algae. His darkened moon's of eyes turned into dark crescents as he realized who had hit him. Turning to face the red goth, Dylan could see that his usual attire had changed slightly. Mike still bore the fingerless gloves and the black shoes and the dark jacket of unhappy faces, but his shirt had changed from a dead bird to a picture of bloody lips. Mike's pants had also changed to dark red skinny jeans with a raven belt.

"Hi there, Dylan", the taller remarked, staring at the shorter's eyes with curiosity. "I didn't notice you in class yesterday? Where were you? At one of the coffee shops, per se?"

Dylan flinched slightly, hating the vampire boy's catchphrase. "Why the fuck would I tell you where I was? That doesn't seem to be any of your concern, now does it?" The red goth took his leave, pushing past the annoyingly rich vampire.

Mike smirked, showing his fake fangs. "Are you going to art class, Dylan?"

"No", Dylan snapped, walking into the art class anyway. The vampire followed him and uttered a laugh.

"Yes you are!"

Dylan turned a full 360 around and glared at the smiling Edward imposter. "If you don't leave me alone, I'm gonna kill you."

The threat seemed to excite the taller even more. "How would you do it. . .Per se?"

Before Dylan could respond, the teacher walked in. She smiled and started to speak about how everyone in the class was to be assigned partners and work on a Kandinsky project that was to be due in two week. After pulling cards from a hat, she listed off the partners in order of their last names. Dylan didn't pay attention, so when she called him and asked if he would be okay working with his partner, Dylan just mumbled, "Yeah, whatever. . ." Usually, on projects, his partner did everything because Dylan didn't want to conform to the teachers thinking of partnership.

"Okay, then, class!" The teacher clapped her hands together, alerting Dylan and placing him on his nerves. "Conformist bitch. . .", he grumbled as the teacher continued. "Please meet with your partner for the rest of the period and discuss what Kandinsky project you would like to do."

Dylan flipped his dark fringe, hearing a plop sound as someone sat down next to him. He glanced carelessly over to the side and tensed upon the sight of Mike Makowski sitting next to him. "What. Are. You. Doing!?" Dylan emphasized on each word, but he already knew the dark answer that awaited him.

Mike smiled, seeing that Dylan was suprised to see that he was his partner. "I'm your partner, per se."

Dylan scowled at the other and hit his head on his desk. "I fucking hate this day so damn much. . ." He looked back up to see that Mike was talking about meeting at his house or something stupid like that. Dylan stopped, noticing the wannabe vampire had an eyeliner smudge in the corner of his left eye. "Hey, Drafag."

". . .and maybe you could come over today so we could research it or something. My mom keeps some cigarettes around the house that you could have and my dad has his own coffee machine if you wanna drink some coffee, per se. . ."

Dylan hit his head again, not even caring if the others makeup was screwed up or not anymore. This guy does not know what shut the fuck up means, does he!? Dylan thought to himself and closed his eyes.

Awhile later, he was being shaken by someone. "Hmm?" The smaller goth boy looked up to see Mike's face close to his. He jumped back and almost fell out of his seat as everyone else was collecting their things to leave to their next class. "What the hell! Do you even know what personal space is, Fagpire!?"

Mike smiled again, striking another nerve with Dylan. "So, today after school then?" He asked the darker of the two. Dylan scoffed, remembering the promised cigarettes and coffee. He sighed, knowing Mike wouldn't leave him alone if he didn't go. But what would his friends think?

"I can't do it today", Dylan spoke softly, standing up from his desk, "I have better things to do."

The vampire copied his partner's actions. "How about tommorrow then?"

Dylan screwed his eyes together, knowing this would happen. "Yeah, sure, whatever. . .", He gave in, reassuring himself of free favorites he would soon achieve from this disaster of a visit.

Mike's beaming smile blinded the latter, and he walked with Dylan for awhile, exclaiming how happy he was to hear that the other wanted to come over to his house.

After school, Dylan hung around his friends, holding back his feelings that he really needed to express. Going home had a similar effect, but at least in school, he wasn't put down by many children.

"So, Dylan", his mom started, smiling at her only son, "How was school today?" Her long black hair was tied into a tight bun, and her makeup covered every inch of her face, making her resemble a white Nicki Minaj.

"Fine. . .I guess. . .", Dylan played with his food, pushing the helpless peas into the white volcano spewing gravy. The orange carrots were next, being flooded into the brown lava, dissapearing in the murkiness that used to a potato.

His father was busy reading the paper, his ripped and oiled shirt proudly plastered on his skin like normal. He loved to show off how manly he was, whereas Dylan couldn't care less. His father flipped a page, his short brunette hair perfectly still, following his nicely trimmed beard's religion of being a statue. "Son?" His father started, and Dylan looked up at the older man. "You should join a sport so people don't think you're a faggot."

Dylan sighed again. Here we go again!

"Honey!" Appalled, his mother placed her hand upon her breast. "Dylan doesn't need to join a sport! Making him join wouldn't mean he's gay or not either!"

"Well, it's better than having him dance like an art homo and smoking cigarettes with his ghetto friends", his father nonchalantly stated, not caring to look at either one of his family members.

Dylan dropped his fork loudly, eliciting two looks from his parents. "Know what?" He started, his mother's eyes wide, and his father's eyebrows raised quizzically. "I'm not hungry for food or stupid homosexual accusations again." The goth left the table and walked up the stairs to his bedroom, throwing off all of his clothes, save his boxers. He threw himself into his bed and closed his eyes, thinking it wouldn't be bad to go over to Mike's tomorrow. Maybe he'd even eat dinner over there just to stay away from his homophobic parents.

The next day, Dylan left his house earlier than expected and walked to the high school, which was only three block away from his small two story house. He sighed, wishing against everything that he was already eighteen so he didn't have to live with his passive mother and his homophobic and catholic father. Dylan was so preoccupied with his thoughts, he didn't even notice that he had walked onto the school campus until he heard an annoyingly high pitched voice screaming.

"I just can't believe that this time he's serious about our break-up!" Dylan flinched again, recognizing the bitchy voice of Stan's ex-girlfriend, Wendy.

Another equally annoying voice started in on the conversation, and Dylan recognized it as Bebe. "Wendy? You do know that Kyle and Stan have been going out for three months now, right?"

Wendy stopped screaming and glared at her friend, toxic fuming from her lipsticked mouth. "I know. . .But I just can't believe he turned gay! And for what!? His jewish, ginger, best friend!? How fucking sick is that shit!?"

Dylan occasionally glanced over at the two girls, who continued to argue about Stan being gay with Kyle, but his thoughts lay elsewhere. The project, huh? Dylan couldn't stop thinking about that stupid art project he had to do with Drahomula. Why this unnerved him so, he just couldn't pinpoint his exact reasons, except for the fact that he was hanging out with the vampire fag cult leader.

Minutes passed until finally, Stan showed up and Wendy stopped talking altogether, watching with a little more than jealousy in her eyes as Kyle yawned and lay his head on his boyfriend's shoulder again. Stan nodded at Wendy in a 'hey' motion, but said nothing more than a breath of fog to the girl, who looked as if she could punch an elephant and break it's tusk right now. Kyle smiled as soon as they passed Wendy and couldn't stop himself from kissing his boyfriend in front of the bitch. Stan's eyes widened at the unusual gesture from Kyle, but kissed him back nonetheless. Wendy completely spazzed out and stomped off, kicking trashcans as she passed them now and then.

The two boys turned around, laughing. Stan glanced over to where Dylan was and frowned. "Why aren't you hanging with your goth creeps, dude?" As he asked, Kyle looked over, too, curiousity reaching the ginger's eyes.

Dylan shrugged, not comfortable talking with anyone without his group around him. This was how he acted without his friends, and this is how he had acted back in elementary school before the other goths found him. He had never talked to many people, only speaking whenever the teacher called on him to answer a question or discuss something with a partner, who always ended up being a boy in a wheelchair that Dylan couldn't remember to save Henrietta's life.

Stan furrowed his eyebrows together, noting how calm the red goth was being without his friends around him. But before he could speak, Cartman showed up screaming like a madman. Kyle, Stan, and Dylan brought their attention to Cartman as the overweight boy jumped out of his car, told his mom that he'd be fine without something of his, and ran over to where his two friends were.

"Hey, faggots!" Eric huffed. Stan glared at the other, and Kyle rolled his eyes.

"What, Eric?" Stan asked.

"Guess what I just found out!?" Cartman asked, but immediately answered his own question. "Dude! Kenny's gay!"

Kyle shrugged. "And what's so bad about that one, Cartman?"

Cartman's mouth opened into an 'o' as he stared at his two friends. "Maybe you didn't hear me right. Okay, okay", he cleared his throat as Kyle gave an exasperated look at Stan, who flipped Cartman off when the latter wasn't looking, "KENNY'S GAY! HOMOSEXUAL! LIKES PENIS!"

Dylan lost interest in the typical mediocracy or rumors and gossip and decided to stare at the art door like it would magically open at any given moment. Cartman kept running his mouth off, saying things that Kenny had done with Butters or Clyde or Craig, people Dylan didn't know or didn't care about.

A motor revved behind Dylan's back, and the goth turned with apathy to see a silver colored jaguar pulling up to the crosswalk. It's tires were puffy, inflated, new, and white, and its body gleamed from a fresh wax job or a new paint job, either one costing too much money to mention. The car parked in a reserved spot, labeled "Mike Makowski", and Dylan felt his heartstring tug for a moment.

Dylan held his hand to his heart and tried to breath. What the hell was that? He asked himself, not entirely sure he wanted to know the answer. He looked back toward the parking lot as Mike stepped out of the car and beeped it. His backpack was flung carelessly around his left shoulder and he walked toward the opposite side of the school.

Dylan breathed again, looking away from what he had just witnessed. He still kept mindful tabs on his heart until the bell finally rang, and when he looked over to Stan's group, he noticed that Stan and Kyle were also keeping tabs on the red goth. "What!? What the hell are you looking at!?" He yelled at the two, who turned away and shook their heads as if they knew a secret about Dylan that he didn't know.

The red goth sat down at his table when the teacher finally opened the door, and nuzzled his head onto the table. He turned his head over to the left and caught sight of the vampire entering the room, a girl at his side. The goth was filled with some type of rage, but he easily dismissed this as not having a cigarette for awhile.

Mike sat down, not once looking over to the goth. His mind was focused intently on the pictures of the Kandinsky art projects done in the past, and, for some odd reason, Dylan felt lonely. He turned his head away again and closed his eyes, only remembering the fight that had happened between his father and him last night.

Halfway during the period, Dylan woke up, knowing that he had fallen asleep. He nudged himself awake and yawned, peering cautiously around the room. The class had partnered up again, everyone working together on the project. Dylan's gaze fell upon his partner, Mike, who was in the corner with the girl he had come in with. Dylan gulped and looked away, anger filling him to the brim. I really need a smoke, he told himself and stood up, taking his meager bag with him as he walked out of the classroom.

Mike glanced toward Dylan's seat, his expression becoming one of confusion. Where did my partner go? He asked himself, turning back to the senior that was helping him with the color wheel he had painted wrong.

"What's wrong?" She asked in a sweet voice.

Mike looked helplessly at her. "My partner left and I don't know why. He was sleeping on his desk when I walked over to him, so I thought I'd leave him alone, per se, but now he just. . .dissapeared or something?"

She gazed with pity at Mike. "I'm sorry. Maybe he's just not happy today?"

Mike shook his head in return. "He's never happy", he scoffed, "he hangs with the goths and smokes his troubles away."

"Maybe you should help him then?" The girl suggested, bringing out the acrylic paint she had finally found beneath the cabnet.

Mike sighed. "Yeah. . .I'm really trying. . ."

As this conversation was happening, Dylanwas steadily walking faster to the goth's hangout, just wanting to sit down and smoke for awhile. When he finally got their, he found nobody. I guess nobody wants to hang out today. . .Dylan's depressing thoughts reached him, but he quickly shoved the emotion downward, having become a master at that at an early age.

As the day wore on, Ethan finally showed up, slightly suprised that the other had been hear since first period. Georgie showed up next, having ditched Middle School like normal. And last was Henrietta, having a new pack of cigarettes for the lot of them. They smoked and talked about their poetry, and, for the first time that day, Dylan felt normal again.

The school bell eventually rang, and Dylan stood up. The others, curious as to where their old friend was going, asked him, to which he replied that he was going to go act like a hypocrite because he had to.

Dylan walked up to the school parking lot and stopped, his breath catching in his breath and his eyes daring to do something they hadn't done since elementary school. . .Cry. . .

Mike's car was absent from its previous spot, meaning that Mike had more than likely left for his house already. The goth clenched his fists and shook his head. Why the hell am I acting like a freaking conformist little girl!?

As Dylan turned to walk away, a care engine revved up again and the goth turned to see a silver jaguar roll next to the sidewalk where the red goth was. The tinted window rolled itself down, mirroring the goth's expression of akward. Mike smiled from inside the car. "C'mon, Dylan! Get in the car!"

Dylan lidded his eyes halfway and yawned. "I'd rather walk. Just give me your address and I'll meet you there later."

Mike shook his head, his dark hair falling ever so slightly into his dark eyes. "My mom's expecting both of us at a certain time."

"Cha!" Dylan snorted a little laughter. "Like I care if someone expects me to be somewhere at a certain time. Listening is such a conformist thing."

"Dylan, please? You'll get your smokes and coffee faster?" Mike knew that bribing the goth would make him so pretty much anything that didn't involve conforming in a negative way.

Dylan's eyes fixated on the other, and they seemed to light up at the suggestion of his two favorite things in the world. "Fine", he eventually said, and opened the expensive, lean car. He sat down with his backpack on his dark pants. For another three minutes, both men were quite.

"I like your shoes", Mike tried sincerely to start a converstion up as he drove away from the school.

The red goth glanced down at his purple buckled winklepicker shoes. "I've had them forever, Fagula."

Mike sighed. "Why do you like calling me all these stupid names anyway?"

"Because your a dumbass wannabe vampire, your stupid cult confuses our two very different species, and you're the most flamboyant person I've ever freaking met." Dylan propped his head up on the windowsill of the car, gazing at the cars and people that passed him. He noted silently that the car was climbing a hill to the huge, rich houses that overlooked much of South Park.

"Well, I know how different the goths are compared to vampires, per se", Mike glanced back over to the red goth, "And I'm not flamboyant, I'm-"

"Gay?" Dylan cut the taller off.

Mike rolled his eyes and shook his head. "No", he started, "I'm passionate about everything I do."

This time, it was Dylan's tun to roll his eyes as he flipped his fringe from his eyes. "Yeah, okay", he laughed slightly, "if that's what all the homosexuals are saying now."

The car pulled up to a beige mansion with with, crystal clear windows. The front door was painted as a soft oak brown color, and the arch above the doorway and walkway was angel white with a few blue and green and red windchimes hanging upon it. The bright green grass looked freshly cut, and as Dylan opened the car door, he could smell the fresh cut. Beautiful red and white roses scattered and lined the house in an army for the Red Queen, and Dylan thought to himself, I wonder when Alice is gonna be here?

Mike opened his car door, closed it, and beeped the thing with a small squeak. Dylan surveyed the house, deciding it was way too bright for the goth.

"How do you like my house?" Mike cautiously asked the red goth, who flipped his fringe out of his eyes again.

Dylan looked at him apathetically. "I'm kind of sorry that your house is this disgustingly sunbleached and fat." And with that, Dylan started to walk up to the nightmarish house.

Mike sighed again for the twentieth time today and pursed his lips. Why do I always sigh whenever I'm with Dylan? Shrugging this thought away, he followed the latter up to his front door.

The two walked in, Dylan now following the vampirebe nonchalantly. The inside was bright with pictures of an older man in a suit in every single one, an older woman in a white dress, with only one picture of her in a pink dress, and Mike, dressed like a vampire in half of them, and dressed in a suit but still donning his eyeliner and fingerless gloves. "Fucking conformist rich people", Dylan whispered, and Mike turned.

"Did you say something?" His eyes asked the same question.

Dylan shook his head. "Nothing you wanna hear about, Drahomula. . ." Mike left the thought unfinished and told Dylan to wait as he went upstairs to find his mom.

The goth poked certain things in Mike's house and finally stopped when he spotted the coffee maker in the back of the kitchen. Not heeding Mike's words, for that would be a conformist thing to do, he gravitated toward the thing and read the buttons around it. He knew how to make coffee, and when Mike came back downstairs with his blonde hair and blue eyed mother, the two were suprised to see the goth drinking coffee already.

"Oh!" Mike's mother exclaimed, but smiled anyway. "Is this your friend, Mike?"

Mike parted his lips to speak, but Dylan cut him off at a faster pace. "No", the goth stated simply, "we just got put together as partners for a stupid art project." He flipped his fringe again, and shivered from the new blast of warmth that wafted into the room from the open back door.

Mike's mom glanced toward her son, who shook his head. "I'm sorry", Mike mouthed, but his mother waved her hand at him. "It's okay, honey, he doesn't seem too bad." She smiled toward Dylan, who almost choked on his coffee.

"Okay, then", Mike's mother stated as she walked toward the backyard, "You two can use the art gallery upstairs and in a while, I'll call you two down for dinner, if Dylan would like to stay."

Dylan looked over to the mom, wondering how she knew his name. "Yeah, I guess", he started, "It's better than going home to my conformist parents and their orthodox thinking."

Mike smiled also, and Dylan noted that this family, excluding the father in the pictures, probably loved to smile at anything. They'd probably smile at Hitler if he tried to kill them, the goth thought jokingly to himself.

It turned out that dinner and art wasn't actually that bad for Dylan. He enjoyed the fact that Mike let him pick out the Kandinsky he wanted, which had the most amount of black in every Kandinsky they searched for. Dylan also liked the fact that Mike's mom ordered pizza and Dylan had the chance to choose which kind he wanted. Overall, it was a nice visit, and Dylan was actually a little sad to leave the other's house, although he'd never tell the vampire about it.

Mike drove Dylan home, and the two were quiet for most of the car ride, with the radio being the only sound, playing Drops of Jupiter when Mike finally broke the silence.

"So. . .", the vampire started, "how did you like it?"

Dylan flipped his hair back and shrugged before continuing, "It was okay. I still hate how bright your house is though. And your fucking conformist smiling."

Mike laughed, knowing that was probably the best compliment he was going to get from the goth this night. "What did you like about the visit, per se?" He stole a look over to the goth and almost stopped the car. The red and black haired man was staring out his window, his eyes crescented by two pale lids of porcelein. His hands seemed to sparkle with the moonlight's beams, and his body followed suit with the beauty of his skin. The goth turned his eyes toward the other, and Mike quickly snapped his attention back to the road.

Dylan stared at the latter with a confused expression, wondering why the hell he was staring at him. The goth tried to dismiss the thought, but it kept bugging him. Finally, after the question had been in the air for sometime, Dylan asked Mike, "Why were you staring at me, Fagula?"

Mike swallowed before speaking, feeling nervous for some reason, "I-I just thought you l-looked. . .like an a-angel just right n-now. . ."

Dylan felt an unkown heat rush to his face, and he turned awaym embarassed at being called an angel when he knew he resembled a demon more. "You're such a faggot. . .", Dylan breathed, but the words caught in his throat, so it sounded more like, "In the bag it."

Mike glanced back at the other, feeling the same sensation of yearning as before, but this time, his gaze only lasted for a few seconds.

The car pulled up to Dylan's house, and Dylan left urgently, muttering, "Thanks fagpire", before leaving. Mike watched as Dylan left, wanting to run up to the other and wrap his arms around him, but Mike knew that the goth would probably punch him and never talk to him the same way again. So, with a heavy heart, the vampire left Dylan's house, a small brown two story house with a yard that symbolized Edgar Allen Poe.

As Dylan walked into his house, he noticed that his mom wasn't in the kitchen like normal. He closed the door, still feeling that rush of heat. Dylan took a shower to wash away everything about the day, a cigarette hanging in his mouth, but he couldn't shake the picture of Mike staring at him. The vampire's face was stricken with an emotion the goth hadn't seen or felt since kindergarten. . .was it love?

Dylan's sleep was broken that night as he slept fitfully, trying desperately to get Mike out of his head. One time, he opened his eyes and thought he saw Mike standing over him, with an expression of pain on his face. "What the fuck is wrong with me!?" Dylan had shouted, hopefully waking his parents up who conformed to sleep so easily. Nobody ever knew that Dylan's insomnia had worsened just because of one visit to the vampire's house.

The next day, at school, Dylan didn't speak for the longest time, ditching every single period that day. Ethan only went to third and fifth, Henrietta stayed until sixth, and Georgie was there the later half. The other goths noticed Dylan's weird behaviour, but chose to say nothing, for they couldn't pinpoint what was wrong with the red goth.

After school, as Dylan went to walk with his friends to the coffee shop, a silver jaguar pulled up to the side of the sidewalk the goths were walking on. Dylan turned numb and just wanted to leave quickly, but Mike was faster than the goth.

"Dylan!" Mike shouted as he stepped out of his car and locked it.

The other goths looked curiously at their friend, wondering why the vampire was looking for Dylan. Dylan turned around slowly, his face turned toward the ground. "What is it, Mike?" He stopped, holding his breath for as long as he could.

Mike also stopped still, hearing his real name being uttered by the goth. "What?" He asked and cautiously walked over to the latter.

"Shit", Dylan whispered, too afraid to face his friends or Mike. "What is it!?" He said louder, and Mike stopped again.

"Our art project?" Mike tentatively stated, closer to Dylan than he had ever been before. "We're still on for that for another week, per se."

Dylan shot a look at his friends, who nodded to the vampire. The red goth swallowed and pushed past Mike. "Fine, let's hurry up. . .I need a smoke badly. . ."

Mike unlocked the car, worrying that he had hurt his friend, but by the time the two had turned to corner, Dylan was looking out the window and acting the same as yesterday, so Mike took no heed of his earlier actions.

For the next week, Dylan came over to Mike's house and ate dinner with Mike and his mom. The goth didn't come home until ten, so he didn't see his parents for about four days. On saturday and sunday, Mike invited him over again, and Dylan came, claiming he liked the expensive cigarettes and coffee better than anything, and that was the only reason he was coming over.

The two boys worked on the project for half the days and talked about other things and watched movies the other half, Mike always letting Dylan pick out whatever he wanted to watch, which involved gore and horror most of the time.

After Dylan had come over for a whole week, Mike asked to come over on Monday so they could use some sharpies to outline the figures on their project, and before Dylan could comprehend what the other was saying, he had said yes.

After school on monday, Mike picked Dylan up in his car, and Dylan threw his stuff in the back, having become comfortable with the car. They drove in absolute silence, the radio having been turned off on account of the songs being too "conformist" as Dylan had stated when he first stepped into the car. Dylan noticed that Mike was turning the car around his corner of his street, and he looked over at the latter with a puzzled expression.

"Why are we going this way?" The goth asked, guessing that he had forgot something at his house.

Mike glanced over to him with a dibelieving look. "We're working on the project here today. Don't you remember saying it was okay yesterday at my house?"

Dylan shook his head. "Fuck", he started, "I really need to pay more attention to when fucking conformists talk. . ."

Mike pulled the car over in front of someone else's house and stopped the car. He turned his body around so that he was facing the goth, and Dylan looked at the other, confused.

"Why the hell did you stop here? My house is another three houses away." Dylan shrunk closer to the car door as he heard a click. "Did you just lock us in here?" The goth stared at the vampire, aghast that the older had really locked the doors. What the hell does he want with me!? He frantically thought, trying to open the door once or twice.

Mike let out a breath of air and stared at the goth, speaking slowly. "I need to talk to you about something. . .Something really important that I've been holding in ever since the first night I took you home, Dylan." The goth stared as Mike held his breath to steady his nerves. "Remember when I told you you looked like an angel?"

Dylan nodded and flipped his hair away from his eyes. "Yeah, you went all faggy on me."

"Well. . .", Mike bit his bottom lip and then decided to take out his fake teeth to talk more clearly, "I really meant it, per se." Dylan's eyes were glued onto the other as he moved slightly closer to the goth. "And I really wanted to tell you. . .I. . .I kind of. . .Like you."

"What?" Dylan whispered, his mind blanking on what to do about Mike's confession. Even before he could utter another word though, Mike closed the gap between them with his lips.

Their lips connected and Dylan tried desperately to shrink away, but the car held his weight. Mike had one leg over on Dylan's side, and the other halfway across his seat, his hands wrapped around Dylan's waist, and he held his eyes closed. Dylan, on the other hand, was rigid with suprise.

Mike broke the contact to breath, and Dylan shoved the vampire away. "What the hell is wrong with you!?" The red goth tried to sound menacing, but only managed to raise his voice slightly louder than the whisper he had just said.

The vampire gazed into Dylan's eyes, wanting to erase the kiss he had just given him. "I. . .I'm sorry. . .I didn't mean. . .I mean. . .", his voice cracked, and Dylan felt his heart become fragile like glass. "I've liked you ever since elementary school. . .When I first talked to you after coming back from Scotsdale. . .Which was pretty damn boring actually."

Dylan dropped his eyes to the floor, mumbling something inaudible.

"What?" Mike asked, afraid to hear the goth say something that would reject the other.

"Can we please go to my house and work on the fucking project now, Fagula?"

Mike stopped, stilling his mind and his body. "Y-yeah. . .sure. . .", he melted into his seat and started to car again, stealing a glance at the other, who was now curled up and close to the door. "I'm sorry. . .I didn't mean to. . .to hurt you or anything. . .", Mike uncomfortably said, and Dylan shrugged in response.

As Mike drove again, Dylan touched his lips. They still felt warm from the other's engulfment, yet they also felt numb, because the red goth knew he couldn't place his heart into the kiss, and his veins and senses would just have to deal with the fact that he would never feel love, in a hug, a kiss, sex, or a simple gesture of it.

Mike gripped the stearing wheel, feeling a new sense of dread. Now, the goth had just stopped looking and talking to him, and, for Mike, that was the worst possible scenario he could have come up with. Why can't I ever do something right!? He thought, closing his eyes tight, and then opening them again, remembering the road. When he had been in elementary school, Dylan hated him because of the vampire thing. When he was in middle school, Dylan hated him for smiling and waving at him every now and again. And, now, in high school, Dylan hated him for Mike loved the goth.

Dylan peered at the other through the crook in his arm and raised his head in suprise. The vampire was still driving slowly because a bus had turned in front of him, but his bottom lip was trembling. As Dylan watched the latter, a single tear slid down his pale face, dropping off of his chin onto his dark red skinny pants.

"Are you crying?" Dylan asked as Mike parked his car on the side of the goth's house.

Mike dropped his gaze from the road to his lap and shook his head slightly. "I'm not crying, per se", he started and turned his head away from the other, "my eye contacts are really hurting me.?

Dylan slumped into his seat, looking out his own window. "I know you're crying, dumbass. . ."

Mike gulped, but decided not to lie anymore. "It's not like you care anyway."

"What do you mean? Just because I'm goth doesn't mean I don't have feelings."

Mike glared at the other, causing the goth to jump slightly. "It's not because you're goth", he practically spit the words at Dylan, who watched with interest and fear, "you wouldn't care because you just rejected me."

"Rejected you?" Dylan brought his face closer to the others. "I didn't reject you, you made me reject everything you are."

The vampire closed his eyes again and hung his head. "I give up." Dylan curiously brought his face closer to Mike's, listening to what the latter was about to say. "I'm just tired of trying to impress you, pre se."

"Impress me?" Dylan's eyes widened, his eyeline could clearly be seen from an unkown amount of miles away. "Why the hell would you want to impress me? All you had to do was bring me coffee, cigarettes, and Edgar Allen Poe."

"I lied, you know?" Mike looked back at the other, examining his expressions. "I don't like you at all. I'm madly in love with you, Dylan."

Dylan stared at Mike, his mouth slightly open. "Love? Why?"

"I don't even know. . .", Mike started to say, "I just love everything you do. I don't care if you smoke or drink or do bad things. . .I just. . .Love-"

Dylan cut the latter off as he kissed him, their lips, once again, being brought together by an unkown magnetic force. Mike's eyes almost lept from his sockets, but he soon closed them, wrapping his arms around the younger's waist again. This time, Dylan let the other touch him, feeling slightly uncomfortable with the unkown hands. He moved closer, onto the latter's lap, his knees on either side of Mike's. Dylan's arms snaked themselves around Mike's collared neck, deepening the kiss the two were now sharing.

After another ten seconds of this, Dylan broke the kiss, gasping as a fish does when out of water. Mike, still holding the fragile frame close to him, breathed in Dylan's smell of smoke and coffee. "You smell nice", he noted and kissed the latter's neck.

Dylan gasped loudly and then bit his bottom lip. Nobody had ever touched his neck, and, ironically, the vampire was the first to do this. "S-stop, M-mike. . .My fucking parents are probably right inside, watching their son's fucking porn show."

Mike let go of Dylan, smirking with pleasure at seeing the small hickey clearly living on Dylan's skin.

"Thanks, you fucking fang banger faggot", Dylan growled, "now let me fucking go."

Mike looked up at Dylan with an inquiring expression, and Dylan caught it, raising his eyebrows in turn. "Do you like me too, per se?"

Dylan rolled his eyes and tried to throw his head to the side to flick his fringe out of his eyes, but he managed to hit his head on the car's roof. "Fuck!" The goth exclaimed and he held his head with his left hand, the other still hanging from Mike's neck.

Mike let his right hand unplaster itself from Dylan's waist so he could hold Dylan's head. "You okay?"

Dylan opened his eyes, looking into the vampire's contacted red eyes. "Yeah. . .", the goth's face flushed a pink hue, "for both of the questions you asked."

The other stared at the goth in his lap, comprehending the words he spoke, and smiling in return. "Then can we go out, per se!?" He exclaimed, making Dylan jump and hit his head again.

"Do that again", Dylan harshly spoke, holding his head again and feeling Mike's hand on the back of his head again, "and I'll break up with you."

Mike beamed up at his new boyfriend, bringing the man down to his lips again.

"Oomph", Dylan managed to grumble before his lips were attacked again. Fucking conformist vampire prick! The goth thought, wrapping his arms around his vampire again. At least he's good at kissing, though, Dylan smiled into the kiss, temporarily forgetting about the project, his house, and his homophobic dad.

"Shit!" Dylan pulled away from the kiss, hitting the steering wheel, making it elicite a beep of the horn. "My fucking parents!" The goth quickly jumped off his boyfriend, grabbing his things off the floor.

Mike watched this display of urgency before asking, "What about your parents?"

Dylan stopped rushing around, his heart quickening itself from the sight of Mike's eyes. "My dad's a freaking homophobe, that's what."

"Oh", Mike dropped back into his seat, realizing just how serious Dylan's situation was now. "I didn't know. . ."

"No shit, Sherlock", Dylan hissed, "but now that you do, don't do or say anythig faggoty to my dad or he'll give me even more hell and my mom will do nothing but tell him not to do that, to which he'll just ignore her like fucking usual!"

Mike opened the car door, and his gaze was attraced to a man standing inside the doorway to Dylan's house. The man was a brunette with a nicely trimmed beard that was only thick enough to round itself around the man's lips. He was wearing a nice baby blue, buttoned up shirt that had been tucked into his beige pants. His black belt matched his dark dress shoes, and as Mike suspected, Dylan tensed at the sight of the man. "My dad", Dylan breathed into Mike's ear, and the vampire shook his head slightly. "Gotcha", he responded and stood up from the car, Dylan following suit soon after.

"Dylan", his father scoffed, his attention caught by the gay looking teenager his son had brought home. "Who's this?"

Dylan flipped his hair out of his face and shrugged. "None of your business."

His father flicked his eyes at his son, his eyes narrowing. "Who is this?" He asked more sternly this time.

The goth rolled his eyes, but decided not to fight with his father today. "He's my partner for my art project. His name's Mike Makowski, and you won't be seeing much of him because we'll be in my room working on the project."

Dylan's father looked Mike up and down as the vampire smiled, showing his fake fangs. "Hello, sir", he started, seeing Dylan' fathers suprised look at the teeth, "I promise not to be any trouble at your household, per se."

Dylan face palmed himself and grabbed the boy with his left hand. "Let's just leave", he spoke in a whisper and pushed past his father with Mike. Dylan's father watched the two leave, baffled that his son had brought home a vampire and a rich boy.

The goth introduced Mike to his mom, who stared at the boy just as his father had. She tentively said hello, to which Mike responded by saying something ending with his catchphrase: "per se."

Finally in his room with Mike, Dylan locked his door. "Okay. . .Now we can get some freaking peace and quiet." The goth turned back toward the other, flipping his hair again.

Mike was wandering around the room, gazing at all the posters of bands he had never heard before. The walls were pure black, and in the middle of the room, a huge chandelier hung, dimly lighting the room with a flicker. The dressers were opened with black cloths hanging from them like entrails, and Dylan's bed was drenched in a dark red sheet and two black pillows that were scattered on the cushion. "Nice room", Mike stated, his attention now clearly on Dylan himself.

"Yeah, whatever", Dylan said, proping himself up against his door. The goth bit his bottom lip, staring at his new boyfriend. "So. . .", he cautiously asked, feeling a sudden warmth in his stomache, an ache that wouldn't go away, "what do you wanna do now?"

Mike, clearly not understanding what the rebel wanted, sat down on his bed and propped the painting against the bedside table. "Where are your sharpies? We need to outline the shapes on the outside." The vampire pointed to the shapes he wanted outlined, looking back at his new boyfriend.

Dylan shook his head. "Fucking conformist AP student", he whispered, but nonetheless, gave Mike three sharpies. He watched as the latter outlined the shapes, wishing that the perfectionist would hurry up and finish. After an hour of outlining, Mike finally capped the second sharpie, for the first had dried up about three thirds of the way.

"Done!" Mike smiled, glancing to the goth. Dylan was proping his head up by his hand, clearly not as pleased as Mike was. "You alright?"

The goth looked out his window grumbling, "Yeah, I'm fine. Whatever. . .fucking conformist. . ."

Mike smirked and moved to closer to his boyfriend, who was sitting crosslegged on the bed. "Can I kiss you", he whispered into the latter's ear and watched pleasently as the goth shivered from the unkown whisper.

"If you want, I guess", Dylan whispered, turning his face in the direction of his boyfriend.

Mike brought their lips together, moving even closer to Dylan, who now had to be trampled on as he was forced to lay on his back. Mike placed his hands on either side of his goth, and his legs on either side of the goth's left leg. Dylan's arms wrapped around his vampire's neck, bringing his face closer and deepening the kiss even more.

The vampire trailed his right hand up and down Dylan's torso, slowly touching and exploring the upper half of his new prize. He broke the kiss between the two, and brought his lips attention to Dylan's neck. Dylan moved his head aside, eliciting a slight moan at the other's touch. "How do you k-know how t-to do this s-so well?" Dylan asked, biting his lip as Mike moved slowly.

Mike detached himself from his boyfriend, smiling and disposing his fangs onto the beside table. "My libido tells me", he started, but upon seeing Dylan's questioning face, he sighed, "A libido is your sex drive. And, no, I haven't done this to anyone, ever, so don't freak out." He laughed at Dylan's defiant look. "And by the sounds your making and the squirming you're doing, I'm guessing nobodies ever touched the untouchable goth, huh?"

"Shut up, fucking sparkly fairy!" Dylan proped himself up by his elbows and glared at Mike, a deep red hue coloring his entire face.

Mike snickered and stole the others lips again, pushing the latter onto his back. The vampire slipped his tongue inside the others mouth, and Dylan fought back, his rebellious nature coming out again. Mike explored his boyfriend's mouth, but Dylan only wished to fight back.

Mike broke contact again and yawned loudly, as Dylan glared at the other. "Conformist bitch", he growled, yet touched the other's torso affectionately with his index finger. His boyfriend smiled, getting off Dylan and laying next to him. "What?" Dylan asked as the other stared at him. Mike smirked, "Nothing."

The vampire closed his eyes, laying his head on his boyfriends pillow. Dylan lay next to him, staring at the figure, who was slowly going to sleep. "Are you really gonna sleep here, tonight?"

"Mmmhmm", Mike merely stated, his breath slwoing down considerably. "How 'bout you sleep with me?"

"I was trying", Dylan muttered, but moved closer to the other anyway. Mike wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, falling into the sweetest slumber he could have hoped for.