Alice sighed in content as she sipped at her tea, emerald eyes watching the stranger across from her, sipping at his hot chocolate. Director Karpusi had e-mailed them, requesting for the two leads to spend time with each other, to prepare for their roles. He wanted the audience to see an unconscious attraction and common ground between the two.

And so they were at a coffee shop, sitting awkwardly across from each other.

"So…would this be an example of artistic license?"

She blinked, confused where he was starting from.

"Pardon?"

Vladislav grinned at her, his canines seeming to flash in the light, "I don't recall about reading any romantic relationship between Dracula and Mina in the novel."

She smiled a little at that, leaning forward, "You've read it, then?"

"Yes. I assume you have too?"

"Of course. But to answer your question, only part of it would be artistic license on Director Karpusi's part. The rest would be artistic license of the playwright. So many musicals involve romance, even if it was nowhere to be found in the original novel."

"If you don't mind me saying so," he leaned forward as well to look her in the eye, "At least if I have to spend time with Miss Mina, then she has a brain."

She raised an eyebrow at that, "Do you intend that to be a compliment, or an insult?"

He shrugged, "Depends. So, do you feel closer to me as Dracula and Mina?"

"Depends. You?"

"Dreadfully sorry, but I think you'll have to put up with my company for a little longer."

"Such a chore," but she smiled a little at that.

"Lottie, please, let me give you a ride."

A cat-like smile was thrown towards the tall man as the blonde flounced over to the passenger seat and jumped in. Promptly, a petite nose wrinkled.

"You've been smoking again, haven't you," she pouted, preparing to get out. But before she could do so, Lars had started the car.

"I got stressed."

She groaned, leaning heavily back onto the seat.

"Lars, I'm trying to help you, but you've got to do some of the work yourself!"

"Who says I need help?"

"I do. Smoking's bad for you." Carefully so as not to distract him from his driving, she leaned over and pulled a strand of hair out of his face, pulling it back to join the others, "Lars, you promised!"

"Lottie, I've been smoking for years! It's not that easy to stop!"

"It's not like you're even trying," she groaned as he pulled up to the theatre, and she leapt out of the car, "I refuse to ride with you until you stop."

"But Lottie…"

"No buts," she flipped her head around to glare at him, "I'm serious this time. Lars, you either clean up, or we're through."

She spun around and flounced away, blonde hair bouncing. Groaning, Lars leaned back in his seat.

Lottie was right, after all. He hadn't tried very hard.

The younger girl had a habit of always being right when it came to him. His friends insulted her (when he wasn't listening, that is), and people who didn't know her thought that she was being a horrible nag and know-it-all.

They were wrong. They were always wrong when it came to Lissie. They never saw the scared look in her eyes when he came to her house late at night, out of his mind with drugs and drink. They never noticed the concerned expression that would flit across her face when she saw that he was smoking again. They never saw the brave face she put on when he raged at her, mistaking her for some terrible phantom of his past that he felt he had to vanquish.

But she had never turned him away at the door. She'd stay up all night with him, making sure he didn't choke on his own vomit. She never gave up on him, even though at times, he wished she would. He could be extremely violent in those moods.

Those moments of wanting her to leave him never lasted very long. If Lissie found someone else…Lars couldn't imagine how it would affect him.

"I am condemned, For justly serving god, As you decree I do." Meryem surveyed the stage as Vladislav sang his song, barely glancing down at the notes. Either the boy was a fast study, or just REALLY wanted the role.

"I am condemned, For vanquishing all those, Who would have conquered you." A bitter tone underlay his sweet notes. But there was love in his voice, love for the very thing that seemed to be causing him pain and suffering.

"But as I return from my bloody campaign, You make treason my deadly reward. You COWARDS dare to treat me with disdain," he snapped out the word "coward" before lowering his voice, mournfully, tenderly, moving his hands as though he caressed a blade, "For the way those men died by my sword…"

His voice went dark again, "I am condemned, But reject what you cowards proclaim. As you hide behind god's holy name, Playing the game, only hypocrites choose, To hide your shame, in selfless blame. I am condemned!"

His fist clenched angrily as he glared out at where the audience would be, "I will descend, into the depths of hell, Never to live again. My life will end, But I will rise to claim the lives of mortal men."

He gestured out to the audience, a wide sweep that took the whole group in, "I summon the forces of all you despise, To avenge the great name of Dracul, To make me immortal as my love dies, And to give me hell's legions to rule. My living death is a self-imposed curse, To commence my unholy crusade. Eternal existence of night I traverse, In vengeance for being betrayed."

Pain returned to his voice, "I am condemned, To exist in the devil's domain. No more love in my heart will remain, Never again, will I be so deceived. Aggrieved by pain, I am profane. I am condemned."

Spiteful, hateful, "To think I once believed it true, that I could serve my country through Your holy court. But I no longer fight for kings. The biased men, With paper wings and bloody wars. I challenge the holy to unholy conflict, I declare war between heaven and hell. The blood of the living shall be my reward, For serving my master so well!"

His voice changed again, a more exhilarated feeling, as though he enjoyed what he did. It forced shivers up and down Meryem's back, as he met her eyes and grinned, "I am condemned, To exist on the blood in their veins, For the blood is the life that sustains, Unholy creatures, of darkness who dwell, In hell's domain, where Satan reins. I am condemned, YOU are condemned," he took a deep breath, "I am Condemned!"

All was silent for a few moments until Vladislav sat, effectively breaking the spell he had temporarily placed upon the actors. The only movement was the motion of Herakles's pen across the page, keeping notes of this first run-through. He'd tell his notes at the end of this rehearsal. However, the only sound heard now was the scratching of the pen on the page. But before the silence could go on too long, Herakles gestured to Harker (Albert, was it?) to get a move on.

Meryem was starting to regret having forced Herakles to add her to the production. She thought of it as something fun she could do while in between jobs. She hadn't expected the quality of actors. Nor how serious they all were about it. Even the goofballs were paying strict attention, following along in their scripts, even though they were nowhere near their parts. Meryem bit her lip as she watched Harker and Mina interact in a stiff way that Herakles wanted to emphasize at the beginning.

Even in these stiff personas, she could see the characters shining through. How could she ever POSSIBLY hope to match up to that? She never intended to do more than this play, it was just a passing fancy for her, filling in her time. But she didn't want that any more. She wanted to look at the other actors and feel like she was on equal footing with them.

They all had a huge head start on her. At break, she had overheard Vladislav and Alice talking about the school productions they had done in high school, both of them always getting the lead roles. Both had taken community theatre classes, and both were at the top of those.

They had been doing this for years, and she wanted to be at the same level after a few days. It was a stupid idea, but not one she was all that willing to give up on. This meant that she had to do something that made her boyfriends extremely surprised when she'd mention doing something like this.

It was time to go to the library.

Lars waited in the car, fingers tapping impatiently on his steering wheel as he glared out the window at where Williams was making Lissie laugh at something he said. His lip curled up above his teeth a little, snarling a little as she walked right by his car, and got into that Williams' car.

Lissie ALWAYS got a ride with him, whenever they were coming from the same place. His hands clenched as Williams pulled out of the parking lot, the windows open in his car, so that Lars was able to perfectly hear Lissie's giggles as they drove off.

It was official, Lars was extremely furious.

Gritting his teeth, he started the car and pulled out of the lot. He was going to plot the best way to get rid of Williams' without making himself look like a jerk in front of Lissie. At least he had plenty of knowledge of how TO look like a jerk in front of her. At this point, it was more likely that he'd avoid looking bad in front of her, rather than adding to the list.

It was with a little growl that he pushed the Dracula CD into his disc player, waiting for the stoplight as he fiddled with the tracks until he found his solo song. He always calmed down when working on a role.

"It's really good to see you again, Lottie," Matthew smiled at her, drinking his vanilla milkshake.

"Same to you," the young woman responded, her cat-like smile spreading around the straw for her strawberry milkshake, "Has it really been more than a year that we graduated?"

"You're telling me," he pulled his blond locks out of his face, "Still with Lars then?"

Liselotte bit at her lip, staring down at her milkshake, "Not exactly…we've never been together, you know. And he still isn't listening. I can't help but wonder if he just sees me as a little sister."

"I highly doubt that," she looked up to see her friend smiling broadly at her, "I'm fairly certain that he was glaring at me as I drove you away from him."

"He…was?"

Lissie had made a point of not looking to where Lars had parked. She hadn't wanted to see the indifference in his face, or to see that he'd taken her earlier words to heart and left without her.

"You're not lying to me, Mattie?" she hardly dared to hope.

"When have I ever?"

A broad smile crossed her lips, one that Lars would have killed Matthew for being the one to incite it.

"You'll help me, right?"

He gave a theatrical sigh, "If I must."

But the grin he sent her said "Of course I will, you silly girl."

"Jensen!" Matthias yelled, slamming the door open as he ran into the room to plop down on the couch, grinning at the young woman on the loveseat watching TV.

"Matthias?" she groaned, even though she did her best to seem unaffected, "What are you yelling about now?"

He leaned over and reached out a hand to brush her face, only laughing when she slapped it back, "I'm just happy to see you! Am I not allowed to be?"

"What you aren't allowed to be is so loud," she coughed, despite her attempts to suppress it.

The Dane frowned a little at that, and before the Norwegian could respond, he had seated himself on the loveseat and pulled her into his lap.

"Stop," she weakly pushed at him, "You'll get sick too. You're too much of an idiot not to."

Heedless of her words' bite, he placed a hand on her forehead and tutted, "How can someone burning up with fever be so cold?"

"No cuddling," she almost pouted, before stopping short. Matthias saw it anyways.

"You look so cute when you pout!" he cooed at her.

"Shut up," she said, even as she cuddled in closer to him.

"You know," he said, mumbling into her hair, "If it wasn't for the fact that I knew you were my girlfriend, times like these would make me wonder if you really loved me at all."

"You know I hate you," she muttered as he rubbed her hair, "Don't treat me like a cat."

He didn't respond, just kept stroking her head until he could feel her relax against him, asleep. He smiled as he reached to grab the remote and turned the television to mute. Without moving his torso, he grabbed a pillow to place behind his head, and prepared to nap himself.

And that was when the door flew open, allowing Emil access as he stomped through the room. Matthias gave a long-suffering sigh as he tightened his grip on the waking woman.

"Emil," she mumbled, trying to get up.

"You realize that I had just gotten her to sleep, right?" he glared at the white-blond boy.

"Sorry." The Icelandic boy's apathetic voice certainly didn't SOUND very sorry.

"Stop treating me like a child, Den," Jensen groaned.

"Then take better care of yourself, and I will."

She prepared to argue, but Matthias just fixed her with a stern look, and (only because she was feeling so tired), she relented. Her boyfriend picked her up, and carried her to her bedroom, closing the door softy behind him as he left.

By the time he came back down to the kitchen, Emil was sitting drinking his cup of coffee (decaf, his sister INSISTED) and staring at the wall.

Matthias sat down next to him, "Why are you home from school so early, Ice?"

The boy just shrugged, "Is Brigitta here?"

"Nah, she had to stay late to work on choreography. Don't quite understand how much choreography we need, highly doubt we'll all be dancing across the stage, but hey, what do I know?"

"Absolutely nothing," was the dry reply, and Matthias nodded in response…until he realized EXACTLY what the younger boy had said.

He moved to yell, but stopped himself at the last minute as he remembered Jensen, and so glared at Emil instead.

"I'll never see why she babies you so much."

"That's perfectly fine; I'll never see how she puts up with your idiocy."

They looked at each other for a few minutes before the Dane grinned, and grabbed Emil to put him in a headlock.

"You know you love me, Bro!"

"No, I don't. I really don't."

Alastair was starting to get bored with constantly yanking the young American off of his step-sister. THIS was the guy they wanted to play a stiff and refined Harker? It made him scoff at the Director's choice.

Maybe he'd be better, but at the moment, he couldn't see anything that would suggest that Alfred would be a good decision.

If he kept grabbing Alastair's younger sister, though, the boy wouldn't have a chance to redeem himself. The siblings would make well sure of that.

Alastair started to walk away from his sister, carrying the American over a shoulder, depositing him a good ten feet away from his sister.

"That's quite enough," he looked down his nose at the boy, "Control yourself, or I must control you."

Alfred rubbed his bottom where he had been dropped, "No need to do that, Ally, it's all good."

Emerald eyes twitched, "Ally? My name is Alastair. You will remember that. You may address me as Mr. Logan, and my step-sister as Miss Kirkland. That is all."

"But…Director Karpusi…"

"John Harker would not call Mina by her name in public until after they were married. It simply wouldn't be proper," Alice spoke up, coming to stand behind her brother, "It will help to create the best atmosphere for the production if we are on similar terms."

"But Alice…"

"Enough," the young English lady turned on her heel to start walking away. After a few steps, she hesitated and turned her head to look back at the American, "I hope that you are prepared for the next rehearsal. I will have no patience with you if you stumble over all of your lines again. I will not let you ruin my production."

Blue eyes looked up to meet menacing emeralds before the redhead strolled over to his sister, escorting her home.

Little did they know that their words had kindled a fiery determination.

It was rare that Francis would ever turn down an invitation to go home with a woman, but it did happen, every now and again. It wasn't as though this lady was ugly, it's just that Francis, for once, wasn't bored with life in general.

Ever since he had graduated and parted from his friends, he had been trying to relieve the impending boredom that threatened to crash upon him. And so he experimented often. Maria had laughed at his stories, and called him a modern-day Dorian Gray

He took a little offense to that; it's not like he went around doing illegal things. While not always seen as moral, his actions were usually on the right side of the line.

Though he'd be lying if he said that he never had to run for his life. It wasn't his fault that some of the people he slept with never mentioned that they had partners. Especially partners with a penchant for wielding large guns.

That one girl had been quite scary with her rifle, coming at him for sleeping with her husband. He still maintained that the man had come onto him first.

He smiled a little as the woman who had propositioned him looked disgusted with his response. She was a very beautiful woman, he bet that she had never been turned down before. In fact, she normally would be the one turning the men down. And normally, that would be the case; they'd indulge in a little back and forth bantering before they went back to her place together.

But he just wasn't in the mood tonight. Not when he was haunted by those whimsical emerald eyes. Those eyes that he hadn't seen since they were children. It had certainly been a long time; he doubted that Alice had even recognized him. But as much as it hurt him, it wasn't completely unexpected. He was three years older than her, after all, and had moved away to France a long time ago. He remembered how she had cried when he left, as much as she pretended that it was sand from the road.

Francis hadn't want to go, but he hadn't had a choice in the fact. When he had finally moved back to America, he hadn't caught sight of her at all, and assumed that she had moved. He met his two friends, Isabella and Maria in college, where he had majored in musical theatre. It was merely an impulse that he had auditioned for Dracula with this up-and-coming director, an impulse that he was extremely glad he had followed since it meant he was seeing Alice again.

So, she had decided to become an actress. He played in his mind theatre the events of the day, focusing on Alice's expressions and voice. Even with so little time to study the script, she had created the entire character of Mina, her Mina. Doubtless it would still develop more, but for now, it was a good starting point.

But then he recalled that…American who had sat too close to Alice the entire time. Truly, that was the one they had playing John Harker? Had the director taken leave of his senses, casting that young idiot. Francis would bet that he wasn't even old enough to drink in his country. It was some consolation that Alice had seemed as disgusted by his actions as he was, but the fact that she stuck close to that vampire-wannabe still irked his pride.

Seeing her again…it made him feel something more potent than the feeling he had fallen in love too many times before. He knew it was too early for that…which made him wonder it had been dormant until he was able to understand it.

But it looked as though Alastair had become even more protective of his younger step-sister, even if he never really acted like it. He'd have to approach this challenge carefully, or else he'd be shut out before he could even get close.

He grinned, unknowingly making girls (and a few boys) swoon a little.

He loved a challenge, after all.