My Lost Boys Obsession

it didn't matter if you could hear them or not anyways, because you were so far into your own thoughts that you wouldn't have acknowledged it anyways.

you sat with your knees to your chest, elbows resting on your legs as you stared out at the black ocean. the moon cast a dim glow across the water, making it look like it was glittering in the night.

only a few hours ago, your mind had been racing with a whirlwind of thoughts. not good enough, not pretty enough, too much, too little. it was a very "it's not you, it's me," situation, with him saying he'd simply lost feelings, but you couldn't help but wonder if you had done anything to cause that.

eventually, those racing thoughts had quieted, leaving you with a heavy feeling of an almost numb sadness. you felt it in your heart, in your head, even in your stomach. it was weighing you down, making you feel like the only thing you could be was sad. that was the best word for it. just sad.

the soft sound of the sea and the distant squawk of seagulls swallowed up the quiet footsteps padding in the sand.

"is this spot taken?"

you jolt at the sound of the voice, whipping around to face the speaker. your eyes traveled up over black boots, white pants, a mesh shirt, until finally your gaze locked onto a pair of blinking blue eyes.

"shit, paul, you scared me," you huffed, turning back to face the water. those were the first words you'd spoken in hours, your voice hoarse from sobbing.

he toed the damp sand with his shoe. "you didn't answer my question."

"sure, yeah. sit."

he plopped down immediately, stretching his legs out in front of him and tossing his black blazer behind him as he leaned back on his hands.

you'd known the boys for a while at that point. you'd moved to santa carla alone, met them on the boardwalk a week in, and the rest had been history. they'd taken you under their wings (no pun intended) and you'd been hanging around them ever since.

out of all the boys, paul had the least tact. he was usually buzzing with energy, bouncing around the boardwalk and blurting out the first thought that came to his head. he was always high, either metaphorically on life or literally on weed. but he seemed strangely sober tonight, sitting quietly and staring out at the water.

"whats up?" he asked finally, breaking the silence.

you pulled your knees closer to your chest. "nothing," you mumbled. you felt like there was a chain around your emotions, refusing to let up and let you express them.

"bullshit," he scoffed. "you're moping."

"am not," you muttered.

he turned his head to glance at you, a skeptical expression on his pretty face. "are too. you're like, all wallow-y and shit." he nudged you with his elbow.

you frowned and turned your head slightly in the other direction. he sighed and nudged you again. "you're sad," he said plainly.

you just nodded. there wasn't really any other way to describe it. that dense ball of feeling in your chest, wrapped around your heart and making it hurt, it was just sad.

now it was his turn to frown. "why are you sad? what happened?" he asked, turning to face you.

you bit your lip. if you talked about it, you would cry. you could already feel everything welling back up; the feelings of inadequacy, the anxiousness, the helplessness when he had said "i don't think we should date anymore."

but paul was your best friend. he had been since you met. and he was clearly worried about you.

you sighed. your next words were quiet, almost inaudible, even with his superhuman hearing. he leaned closer.

"huh? babe, you gotta speak up."

your lips barely moved, your voice hardly above a whisper, but this time he heard it.

"he broke up with me."

his face fell. despite never really seeing your boyfriend, because of external circumstances (and not because he was jealous, as the boys liked to say), he knew how much that guy had meant to you.

"he's done," he said immediately. "he's a goner, babe, i promise. i'm gonna get the boys and we're gonna rip him limb from li-"

"paulie," you said. your voice was so dejected and flat that he stopped his rant in his tracks, staring at you.

"i just-" your voice broke, and you tore your eyes away from the ocean, looking up at the night sky. you hated that you were making him worry, but you hated the thought of crying in front of him even more. you shook your head.

"what did he say?" he asked quietly.

you swallowed the thick lump in your throat. "he just- he said he lost feelings, essentially," you managed. you blinked rapidly, trying to force the tears back.

he clenched his jaw. "that's fucking ridiculous," he said. "thats so fucking ridiculous."

you sniffled, and he immediately scooted closer, wrapping an arm around you as the tears finally broke through. he sat with you as you sobbed, rubbing your shoulder and letting you lean on him. paul was not good with feelings or anything of the sort. he was the hype man of the gang, always down to start some shit or another. but for you, he'd do anything, even try and handle emotions.

"i just- i feel so stupid," you cried, wiping harshly at your eyes. "i just wanted someone to actually love me, you know? and it seemed like he didn't even care!"

he looked out at the ocean awkwardly. "yeah, i.. i know, babe," he said. "i know."

you knew he was only trying to make you feel better, but his words only served the opposite purpose. "how would you know?" you snapped bitterly.

he turned to face you, blinking in surprise. "what?"

"you have dwayne and marko and david! you have the guys and you even had star and laddie and michael for a bit! how would you know what it felt like to be alone?" you wrenched away from him.

his brows furrowed, his shoulders deflating. he knew you were just upset, upset at the world and at your ex and you were just taking it out on the closest thing you had at the moment.

after a moment, letting you breathe, he tentatively reached out, grabbing your elbow and pulling you closer. you sniffled, wiping your eyes again, the sudden rush of anger dissipating into the sea breeze.

"i just want- i don't know, i just want to belong somewhere. to someone. i wish i had, like, a home, you know? somewhere i don't always feel alone," you mumbled, the familiar feeling of shame creeping back up on you.

you had always been on the outskirts of everything; never anyones first choice, never the favorite. you were so sick of feeling like you didn't belong anywhere. growing up, your friends had always had better friends. even with the guys, there was a clear bond between the four of them, making you feel disconnected even from your best friends.

after a long while, he spoke. "i was on my own for a while," he admitted softly.

you glanced at him. "what?"

he nodded. "parents kicked me out when i was fifteen. thought i was too old to be mooching off of them or some dumb shit. i was a street fighter when i met the boys. before..." he waved vaguely in the air and referring to his vampirism. turning to face him, you saw an open, honest expression on his face. he was always so upbeat and good-natured that to see him serious for once was strange. "and even then, it took a while for me to open up to them. took like, two years to open up."

you frowned, and he squeezed your shoulder. "im saying, i know how it feels, babe. but you got us." he shook you gently, a hint of his typically playful nature coming out. "always will."

"you guys are vampires," you said quietly. "you'll get bored of me someday and leave, just like everyone else."

he shook his head vehemently. "we wouldn't. we love you too much."

you didn't respond. the idea of someone, multiple someones, staying for more than a while, was incomprehensible.

suddenly, he jolted. he near slapped your shoulder as he patted you excitedly, his face lighting up.

"you could join us!" he said, as if it was the best idea he'd ever had.

you turned to him, baffled. "what?"

"become a vamp! then we could be together forever!" he got up, not waiting before he all but yanked you up with him. he wrapped his arms around your waist.

you admit, you have thought about it before. you didn't have much to lose; practically no friends outside of the boys, no family, shitty job. it wasn't entirely out of the blue. but still...

"paul, i- i can't just give up my life-"

he cut you off. "babe. you'd get to sleep all day, party all night, and hang out with us. you're already basically one of us, minus the fun part. c'mon, what do you have to lose?"

you made a face, considering it. "but what if-"

"i promise," he said. he moved his hands from your waist to your hands, holding them in his. "i promise you, babe, i'm not leaving. neither are the boys. we may be like, killers, but we're not that bad," he joked. then, his face settled into a more serious expression. "but im serious. we're not like those other assholes. we'd never fuckin' ditch you because we got bored," he scoffed. "you're one of us, babe. you just need to take the last step."

you were floored. you'd never had anyone be so genuine with you, so insistent about staying and not leaving.

at your expression, his own softened. "i promise, babe. scout's honor or whatever."

you laughed softly, and his lips pulled into a small smile. "there she is," he murmured. he squeezed your hand. "what do you say, then?"

you glanced out at the ocean. could you do it? could you handle never seeing the sun, never being out during the day? could you handle truly becoming one of them, becoming a killer just to survive? could you handle having forever with not just one, but four people who promised to never leave?

you looked back at paul. his blue eyes glimmered with excitement, with hope.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ a small draft whistled through the cave. the bottle clinked against the cup as marko pulled it away from the now-full glass.

dwayne lifted it from the table and handed it over to you. paul squeezed your shoulder both in comfort and excitement as you took it from the brunette.

david watched coolly from a chair, his piercing gaze tracking your movements as you lifted the glass to your lips.

just as you were about to take a sip, you lowered it slightly.

you looked at paul. "you promise?"

the blonde nodded, nothing but genuine sincerity in his expression. "i promise."

you looked around at each of the boys. david, with his unreadable expression. marko, watching with bright eyes. dwayne, leaning against the wall with an unreadable face. and paul, with his giddy excitement.

you'd known these boys for long enough to realize just how intense this was. if you drank from that cup, you'd be one of them. you'd be a part of something, something real. you would have people who would kill for you, ride for you, do anything to keep you safe and happy. you would have people who truly loved you. you would finally belong to something, to someone.