Okay guys, new chapter. Please don't forget to review! thanks to the TV show Invader Zim (especially G.I.R.) for some hilarious inspiration at 1:43 am. This chapter is dedicated to vamped4Edward for being my best fan fiction friend. And for being my first reviewer. Love you! Enjoy. Before you read, go to YouTube and listen to "felt good on my lips-Tim Mcgraw." it makes a reference.

And if you see one of these (*) that means I will make a reference to it at the end of the chapter.

disclaimer: I own nothing. None. Nada. Zip. Goose eggs. Zero. El zippo.

-chapter 2-

-meeting in Gruene-

January 14th 2010.

After traveling back to Louisiana for a few years, then going as far out as Georgia, I came back to my home state, Texas. It was about 8:30 pm and the setting sun was just enough light to make me have to take cover.

In a little town called New Braunfels, I saw a poster for a concert hall bar thing just a few miles away. It was in a smaller town called Gruene. And the bar was properly named, Gruene Hall.

Stepping into the half empty place, I almost turned right back out.

Vampire.

The strong smell of a vampire smacked into me. I spun around to leave to avoid a confrontation, only to find the twilight sky shining down on the sidewalk. I'm screwed. Lets get this the hell over with.

I warily stepped in further and took a seat at the bar. There were three smokin' hot girls, normally I wouldn't say things like that. . .but it was true. A redhead, a blonde and a brunette–

It was the vampire girl. The brunette. She was the bartender. She was beautiful. I don't know if I had ever seen a girl better looking than her. But why the hell was she the bartender? She was at least eighteen since she was working at a bar. But it looked like she was twenty. The most surprising about her, wasn't her beauty, or her age, or anything else. When she turned around, I realized, it was her eyes.

They weren't a bright red, or even a thirsty black, they were. . . .gold. A buttery gold. Gold! That made no sense. Whatsoever. Did it?

"howdy." she said with a thick southern accent. She looked me dead in the eye and smirked, "now I know, I cant get you anything."

"And I know that you aren't sneaking shots back there like your friend." I chuckled nodding to the red head, pouring herself a shot then downing it while the blonde covered her. The vampire girl huffed and shook her head.

" Yazabelle. Yazabelle Johnston." she smiled and held her hand out. I cautiously took it and introduced myself.

"Jasper. Jasper Whitlock."

"that's a cool name."

"jasper?" I asked. I guess I never thought about it. It was a normal name when I was born.

"nah. Whitlock."

"why?"

"i have absolutely no idea. I just think it is." she shrugged.

"Yazabelle is a pretty sweet name too. Different. In a good way."

"well, I sure hope so. It was passed down a good couple generations." her nice southern drawl was nice to listen to, but it was clear she was at least half Mexican. Her alabaster skin had an olive tone in it, that quickly pointed it out on its own.

"can I ask you something, Yazabelle?"

"1st of all, that was a question on its own. 2nd of all, yes. And 3rd, call me Yazz."

"okay. Yazz," I leaned in over the bar, our faces were about two inches apart. "why are your eyes gold?"

she was silent for a second then giggled in my face. It was a delicious sound that made me join in. it was impossible not to. She looked around then humanly hopped over the bar and landed in the seat next to me.

"lemme tell you something jasper."

"call me jazz." I nodded for her to continue.

"kinda similar dont'cha think? Yazz and Jazz? Anyway. My eyes are gold because, I'm not a traditional vampire. I don't feed on humans, just animals. Like deer. I consider myself somewhat of a vegetarian." there was no way that's true. Impossible! Who ever heard of a vegetarian vampire?

"what – but – the – and – how do you stand all the blood in here?" I asked subtly glancing around at the humans including her co workers glancing over at us from behind the bar every two seconds, snickering.

"same way you are, of course. Self control. Will power. Strength. Self confidence. All that blabady blabady blah." she answered my gibberish. All while twisting and tugging on one of my gold curls falling from my hat, then trailing, pressing it flat against my cheek. Yazabelle's fingers lingered down my neck. She looked in my eyes and a small smile spread across her face and she looked down, as if she was shy. I could already tell, she was not shy. She had just looked down and I already missed looking into them. We just met though. I didn't want to freak her out or be too forward. I don't know what I'm even saying anymore.(*)

The clock on the back wall chimed the hour. People came rushing in the bar, standing in front of the stage. Soon the entire floor was packed with people, then they began to chant. Yazabelle smirked.

" Yazz! Yazz! Yazz! Yazz!" the crowd cheered, and she hopped over the bar.

"what the hell?" I asked her

"ill be back in a little bit." she tried to leave but I caught her wrist.

"whats. Going. On?" I asked again and she huffed.

"its open mic night. Every week on my break, now, all the locals like me to go up for a few minutes." she briefly explained.

"huh. That's not weird at all. But okay. . ." I released her and she stepped on the stage.

"howdy guys! how yall doing tonight?" she shouted in the mic. the crowd was eating out of the palm of her hand. . . . .like a llama.(**)

"lets see. I seem to remember Jimmy-" she pointed to someone in the audience, "- said something about playing some Jason Aldean." she clapped and held her hand out to the side of the stage to catch something. "Marco! toss me!" a black acoustic guitar with white trimming, flew out and landed gracefully in her hands. Immediately, her fingers danced across the black Carlo Robelli. Its sound filled the now packed bar. But I no longer noticed the blood pulsing behind the humans skin, just the angel that played on the stage.

Through the twenty minutes she played, I never took my eyes off of her. At one point her eyes met my own, and the feeling emanating off of her were. . . .something I couldn't describe. I loved it.

She thanked everyone and slipped off the stage, handing her guitar back to Marco, who took it to the back. She stopped in the middle of the floor by a sound booth and muttered a few words to him and a song came on that was mostly in Spanish. It was pretty cool.

"so whatcha' think of the show?" she asked me, hopping half humanly back behind the bar, apologizing to her friends that it was a longer performance than usual.

"that was great Yazabelle!"

"Yazz" she quickly corrected. "how about you go up there and sing something cowboy?" I thought for second and a song came on the was so perfect it was almost creepy.

"you know what? I think I will"

(*) the way I pictured him saying this, it was like the funniest line in here.

(**) I mean its hilarious. Have you ever hand fed a llama? I have. It was great!

ooh la la. What song will jasper be singing? let us find out. . . .NEXT CHAPTER! now, please review for me! reviews make me happy! they make all authors happy! dooooo it! its taunting even me! And this is my story! just kidding.. that was corny. Please comment. Its 2:41 am. I stayed up late. Just for you. -