"Ow!" David rubbed his head vigorously, again, trying to rub out the pain. It was the third time today he'd smacked his head into the cave ceiling. Max had really failed on teaching him the ropes of flying.

That, and a whole lot of other things.

And with the morning dawn
Moving right along
I couldn't buy an eyeful of sleep

He'd been a vampire, fully, for two weeks now. And not only was he still trying to get the hang of flying, but he'd also gotten a bit of a "sunburn", getting caught flying in way late. He figured his new senses would give him a heads up when the sun was rising. So far, no.

And in the aching night under the satellites
I was not received
Built with stolen parts
A telephone in my heart

David was also lonely. Without stating it aloud and in words, Max had charged David with finding his own companions for the long nights. To make his own brothers, with that ornate bottle of blood kept on the shelf in the cave.

But come on. David was still so new to Santa Carla, how was he to find friends in the first place, let alone make other vampires? Especially if he was only able to hang out during the night hours!

Someone get me a priest
To put my mind to bed
This ringing in my head
Is this a cure or is this a disease

Still rubbing his head absent-mindedly, wishing for ice, David picked up a tome Max had stuffed in a box that he'd give to the boy after leaving him to live in the Cave. It was old, that was for sure. David was afraid the pages would crumble in his hand, but they held steady. Yellowed with age, it seemed to be some type of children's book. The text was written in ink, but far more fancy then anything David had ever seen.

And in the after birth
On the quiet earth
Let the stains remind you

"Ew!" David dropped the journal suddenly. It took him a moment to realize the bloody stains were dried, and probably years old. Looking around, realizing he was alone, his tough façade returned. David usually wasn't squicked by anything, especially blood now. But something about that stain...

Trying again, recovering the book from the dirt floor, David settled down on the dilapidated couch and started to read. Oddly, the story was about a boy alone on an island... looking for friends and a family, just like David... but he flew via pixie dust, instead of riding a motorcycle.

You thought you made a man
You better think again
Before my role defines you

David felt a new sense of purpose, after finishing Peter Pan. He felt above and beyond the rules of the city, of the world, of man. Maybe Peter Pan and his Lost Boys were just like vampires: a totally different species. They had made their own family, their own rules and forged an existence all on their own.

And in your waiting hands
I will land
And roll out of my skin
And in your final hours I will stand
Ready to begin

"All right Max. You get your wish." David smiled, returning the storybook to the box, and rising from his chair. It was time to begin his gang: The Lost Boys.