Taylor had made her way to the front of the crowd, feeling weightless as the people milled around her. Her curls were loose, and her makeup was smeared, but she still looked so beautiful, so natural, that she attracted glances from all of those around her. Her plain t-shirt had been tied up to reveal a tanned strip of stomach, and her shorts hung low on her hips. She was barefoot, despite the heat that the cement beneath her still held, and she kept a worn out pair of flip flops in her hand. A few feet behind her was Sam, his head bobbing to the music, moving in a way that he'd only before dared to do alone, when MTV was playing in the background. He was wearing one of his usual graphic shirts, unbuttoned deeper than usual in the summer heat.

It was September, but it sure didn't feel like it just yet. Not in Santa Carla.

Taylor could feel eyes on her, and she knew they weren't Sam's. It was the same feeling she'd gotten the night before, when she was with Laddie. The feel of David's eyes on her were so much more familiar now, and that knowledge was almost unsettling.

She turned to find him, made brave by the whiskey and cokes she had downed before leaving Max's house, followed by the cheap beer she'd gotten on the boardwalk. She searched the crowd for his dark duster, his spiky hair, or the glint of his silver earring. She wanted to call him to her, to make him dance - or, at the very least, make him watch her dance. She wanted a repeat of last night, only now she would be braver. She would touch him afterward.

It was a while before she found David. He was on the outskirts with the rest of the boys and her brother, standing next to their bikes. Michael's eyes were on her and Sam also, and there seemed to be a twinge of jealousy in them. Good, Taylor thought, serves him right for ditching Sam all summer. But then her eyes locked on something else.

David had a girl with him. He was guiding her towards his bikes, a hand on the small of her back, in the same place where he had touched Taylor the day before. The girl was beautiful, especially against the backdrop of the boardwalk lights and the boy's motorcycles. She was in a red shirt and bright cutoffs, giving the impression of some sort of Americana painting. Taylor felt, for the first time in a long time, that she didn't matter - that she could not compete.

Sam reached out for her, his mind registering the scene in front of them a second later than she did. His emotions were raging, intensified by the alcohol, and they were mixed, uncertain. David needed to feed, Sam knew that. But still, taking a pretty girl back to the cave felt like an outright betrayal, and Sam's first loyalty was, and is always, to his sister.

"What the fuck." Taylor scoffed, biting her lip. David did not turn to look at her, though he must've felt the daggers she was glaring into his backside, as he helped the tanned brunette onto his bike.

"I'm going to talk to him," Sam huffed, standing up a bit taller, puffing himself out to seem more intimidating.

"Sam, don't - " She said, because it shouldn't have mattered to her what David did. They had sex, that was all — and yet it didn't feel like that was all that had happened between them. Her words were fruitless, however, and Sam, fueled by alcohol and anger, marched towards the Lost Boys.

Taylor ran towards him, her arm outstretched, trying to pull him back. She knew she'd already been spotted, but she didn't want to make a scene.

"Sam!" She yelled out his name, but he moved quickly, and was already standing next to the bikes.

Michael stood in front of his little brother, between him and David.

"What's the problem, Sammy?" He grinned. "Something wrong?"

Sam swallowed, feeling his anger congeal in the back of his throat for a moment. Michael took advantage of the moment, and continued speaking.

"Don't worry about David, seriously. He's just hungry; we do need to feed, you know." Michael shrugged, ruffling Sam's hair as if he were still eight years old. "Besides, you and Taylor were just having so much fun together. Why don't you go back to that?"

Michael moved to the side, knowing he had won, and Sam caught a glimpse of David's eyes — dark as always, but possibly apologetic — as he turned the bike and headed off towards the darkest end of the beach.

The other boys were still there though, and they were the ones to see Taylor break down.

()()()

"I'm sorry," She apologized again, her eyes moving from face to face. "I don't know what's going on with my emotions lately. I'm so sensitive, and the alcohol isn't helping."

The boys — Paul, Marko, and Dwayne — smiled at her kindly. Their leader may have taken off into the night, but they could all still feel his discontent, his anger at what he'd done to Taylor. But really, they figured, what had he done to Taylor? Despite what it looked like, all the boys knew that this girl, whatever her name was, would be a meal and nothing more. Some part of Taylor must've understood that too, and if she hadn't yet, then surely she would soon.

"Would you like us to take you home?" Dwayne offered, looking at his brothers. "You can ride with me, Paul can take your car."

Taylor nodded, but then turned. "What about Sam?"

After Taylor had begun to cry, Michael took his bike and set off into the night, a burst of anger and frustration. Sam had taken off after him, but by then Taylor's tears were rolling too quickly for her to notice her brothers take off into the night.

"He'll find his way," Paul shrugged.

"And we'll keep our eyes out for him, while we can." Dwayne added, hoping to appease her. "Just let us take you home, Taylor. You're our sister now."

Numb and not quite sure why, Taylor nodded. Dwayne reached out a hand and she took it, settling herself onto the back of his bike. She laid her head against his jacket, and tried not to stain the leather with her tears.

()()()

David's anger had caused him to go into a bit of a frenzy, hardly waiting until they got to the cave before he began to tear at his victim — Tricia, Teresa, what was her name? He sunk his teeth into her vocal cords first so that she wouldn't scream, and then began to feed. She tasted too sweet, and she didn't settle well on his stomach.

"You're in trouble, David." Michael said, suddenly appearing in the cave's entrance, his sleeves rolled to his elbows like he was expecting to get his hands dirty. David could feel the anger rolling off of him.

"Oh no," David muttered sarcastically, not bothering to wipe the fresh blood from his mouth. "Whatever did I do now?"

"I don't know what you did to her, but Taylor's home crying. About you."

David faltered, if only for a moment, and then turned to Michael.

"Why do you care?"

"She's still my sister, David."

"She's a sister to all of us now, Michael." David looked towards the wine bottle next to the couch, the same one that had graced the dining room table of Max and Lucy's house only a few nights before. "It's only a matter of time, Michael, and then she'll understand. I have to feed."

"But you didn't have to be so obvious about it." Michael shook his head. "You wanted to hurt her."

"What's wrong with stirring up a little jealousy, Mikey? Star might've benefited from a bit of competition. Maybe she'd have stuck around longer that way."

With a feral growl, Michael lunged at David.