Francis, or "Ian", walked down the city street, humming along with the music playing loudly through his headphones. Jen's house was close enough for him to walk to it, but far enough away for him to feel safe. After a few minutes, he reached the suburban part of town. he took out a pad of paper that he had scrawled her address on.
"32, Abbey Road..."
he looked up at the houses, and spied number 32 only three houses down. It was a small, split-level home that had faded yellow paint and white trim. A small lawn was in front, with a Yorkie dog tethered on a leash. As Francis got closer, the dog perked up and started to bark. As Francis grew nearer, the bark turned to a growl, as the dog bared its teeth. Francis wasn't phased at all; he was used to animals becoming agitated when he was around. Despite all the other evolutionary advances of his kind, nothing could trick an animals sixth sense. He walked up to the dog, kneeling in front of it.
"Sirnef Cualo...." he whispered, in a deep, guttural voice, staring into the dogs eyes. It immediately hushed, and backed away, cowering. Francis got up, brushed himself off, and turned to the door. he was surprised to see that Jen was already standing there, in a plaid skirt, black tank top, and half-zipped black pullover.
"I see that Roscoe already greeted you." She said, smirking.
Francis hadn't noticed her coming out, and was startled. Did she see what he had done? he stammered "Oh - Hey, Jen.. how are you?"
jen smiled and sat on the step, pulling her hot pink and black skater shoes over her striped stockings.
"Oh I'm good. how are you?"
Francis smiled. "i'm about to go on a date with you. How can I be anything but good?" Jen blushed and giggled.
"Ian, you're such a sweetheart." She got up and yelled inside. "I'm leaving now!!"
"Going where?!" a tough male voice yelled back.
"out!!"
"When'll you get back?"
Jen sighed. "I don't know! Eventually! I'm leaving now!" She slammed the door behind her and let out another heavy sigh. "Agh! I can't stand that man!" She took a deep breath and smiled. "Alright. Ready?"
Francis nodded. "uh, sure." he gestured for her to walk in front of him. "Ladies first.."
Jen giggled and started walking. "Sorry about that scene.. my stepdad can be an ass."
Francis walked next to her, and shrugged. " Eh. It's fine. I've met my share of assholes before."
They turned a corner, making idle chit chat until they reached the restaurant district.

In the evening, Jude knocked on the door leading to Francis' apartment.
"Coming!!" a voice called from within. Jude heard footsteps and the door swung open, revealing a teenage boy. Jude stopped and looked around. This was the right building, right?
"Um..."
The boy laughed. "oh. Hey, Jude."
The priest blinked. "Do I - "
"it's me. Francis."
Jude looked at him. The boy didn't look any older than a college freshman. He had the appearance of the stereotypical emo/scene kid: His hair was dyed various shades of black and purple, cut short and teased in the back, with long bangs parted to one side to cover one eye. He wore eyeliner, a black fitted tee layered over a striped long-sleeve shirt, and tight-fitting black pants with chains. He smiled, and his vivid blue eyes seemed to glow, especially in contrast to all the black. Jude stared. "... You're joking. Francis hired you, didn't he?"
The boy giggled. "No, no, it's really me!"
"Prove it."
the boy thought for a second, and then pulled up one of his sleeves, revealing an arm covered with tattoos. They were unmistakable. Only Francis could have these markings. Jude nodded and smiled. "Alright. So it's you. What the heck?"
"Ah, my friend. the wonder of wigs, contacts, make-up, and wardrobe."
"Wow... impressive, Francis! Why do you have all of this?"
Francis smirked. "well, I have to go out in public every once in a while. And I have to get money somehow."
Jude looked at him quizzically. "Am I to assume that means.. you have a job? Since when?"
"Last week." the vampire boasted.
"really? But how did you get over the fact you don't have any personal records?"
"Easy. I said I was never registered with Social Security because I was born at home and my mom never bothered to get a birth certificate or anything. All I had to do was make up a name and birthday and Voila!" he grinned. "A few years ago, it would have been impossible to pull that off. But with the government going down the tubes, you barely need an SSN to get a job anymore."
jude shook his head and leaned against the doorway. 'That's really something, Francis. So what's your new persona then?"
Francis cleared his throat and spoke in a voice which perfectly suited his look.
"my name is Ian M. I'm seventeen, almost eighteen. My mom raised me by herself, and even home-schooled me. Everything else I know I taught myself. I moved here by myself after my mother died. I am looking into some college courses so maybe I can get a real job someday, but for now I'm just trying to make enough money to survive. because I didn't go to a real school, I'm very shy, and now it's even worse since I just moved here, so I don't know many people yet." he smiled, and the priest stared at him.
"Whoah.... very nice."
"i know. I got it all covered."
Jude thought for a bit. "So... where are you working then?"
Francis looked away and mumbled "Starbucks..."
Jude stopped, a smile growing on his face. "Starbucks? You gotta be kidding me!"
"I know, I know... But could I seem any more normal than that?"
"i suppose you're right."
"And you haven't even seen the best part yet." Francis grinned and gestured for him to come inside.

A while later Jude, in a bathrobe, stepped out of the bathroom, drying his hair with a towel. The smell of oatmeal filled the room. He took in the aroma, smiling, and walked into the small dining room.
"Why hello, Father! I see you found the bathrobe. Comfy, isn't it?"
Jude nodded, clutching his towel.
"Don't be shy. Take a seat! Your food is ready." Francis placed a bowl of oatmeal on the table, and Jude sat down. He tasted the food and looked at up Francis with wide eyes.
"Oh my goodness! Francis, this is delicious!"
Francis smiled and thanked him.
"Are you sure you don't want any? It's wonderful."
Francis shook his head. "I wouldn't know. It's all the same to me."
Jude looked down. "Oh yeah.." The two were silent for a while, and Jude continued eating, the clanging of the metal spoon on the bowl echoing loudly. He paused, and then said cautiously, "Francis?"
The vampire looked up at him. "Yeah?"
Jude met his gaze. he wasn't sure if he should ask, but he couldn't stop his curiosity any longer. "What's it like... being a vampire?"
Francis looked away, ran a hand through his hair, and sighed.
"It's..... hell." he closed his eyes and rested his head on his hand, thinking. "You hunger, yet no amount of food will satisfy... everything tastes the same. The only things that taste good are blood and sweets..." he paused, and his voice grew soft and pained. "Year after year, seeing every generation die out... Your friends, family... Eventually you learn to stop getting close to people, because they'll either die or betray you. you don't get out much, for fear of people noticing how you never age... The signs are unmistakable. Lack of pigmentation in your skin and hair, hollow pupilless eyes..."  he turned away, trying not to show emotion. "But the worst part.. is that our kind has evolved so much, we're practically immortal... I don't know how many times I've tried to kill myself, only to be fine the next day..." he trailed off, a forlorn expression taking over.
Jude was silent. He hadn't meant to hurt Francis.
"I... I'm sorry..."
Francis turned, dazed. "Wha - oh." he cleared his throat. "Uh - nah, don't worry.. everyone wonders..." he trailed off and cleared his throat, and stood up suddenly. "Just um... put the dishes away in the sink when you're done... I gotta get ready for my date. You should think about getting over to your church soon.. it's already 2 o clock." he walked out of the dining room at into the hall.
Jude heard a door open and shut. Sighing, he looked down at his bowl. He hadn't meant to upset Francis; now he felt guilty. He finished his oatmeal and then gathered his dishes, walked into the kitchen, and put the dishes in the sink. he could hear melancholy opera faintly from the other room.
Walking back into the main room, he changed into his clothes and grabbed his coat and scarf. He thought about calling out,to say goodbye, and decided against it, walking out the door and down the stairs to the chilly winter outside.