001. The Application (1)

Someone accidentally bumped into the counter and made the drink stir, almost spilling from the sides, not bothering to apologize. It was enough to interrupt Georgie from spending one more minute staring at her reflection on the cup. It'd be easier if she could get her phone to style the few stray hairs that weren't tucked inside the uniform-matching white hat, but she was not allowed to use her phone until the end of the shift.

Georgie felt like she might've been sick, stomach silently rumbling for reasons other than food. Not that she'd know hunger anymore. Georgie would proudly tell anyone she was completely capable of a successful 30-day juice fast to show off her vampiric traits, but the truth was that she had worked at so many restaurants and cafés that her hunger cues were practically obliterated.

And she was sure hunger didn't make one's sweat turn cold, or cause a full-body shiver, with hairs standing up as if being pulled out of one's skin.

It might've all been less about food, and more about the glimpse of the being that had just crossed the paved streets, right in front of the tiny beverage booth she was currently employed for the week.

The dark clothes could as well be neon green, even under the dim light poles and the weak glint of the waxing crescent moon. She could be hallucinating, the salty smell of the beach water finally intoxicating her brain, as Jamie told it would. It wouldn't be the first time, anyway. But it was very unlikely. Georgie knew he'd been coming here. She'd traced maps, done atrocious mathematical equations and constantly refreshed five reliable websites to make sure she knew the most accurate location to bump into him. But she still couldn't believe her own luck.

Even with a mere quick glimpse of his figure, Georgie could feel his presence right inside that too-small booth. She could pretend he was about to turn back and buy a juice or a smoothie, which was foolish in multiple ways, not only because nobody in their sane minds would drink a smoothie in the evening, but also because vampires, obviously, didn't eat human food. Or at all. That was common sense, and Georgie couldn't help cursing the universe for only managing to get her into food-related jobs. Maybe if she worked in an antique store… vampires seemed fond of old furniture. She would know, she wrote a whole essay on the topic some years ago.

The anticipation felt like a physical wound, an intense yearning for the bare minimum contact with him. Just a direct eye contact would be enough. If he recognized her existence, she might have a shot!

For Georgie, Adrian Constanzo was more than a vampire celebrity. He was the ticket to a meaningful life, although she couldn't make up her feelings about him. Platonic or not, they were strong, almost unbearable, growing more urgent as the years passed by.

To think that he'd been in contact with other humans, unworthy ones, ungrateful ones, set an uncontrollable fire inside her, burning in rage, and only God knew how she had this much patience to come this far.

"Grab your things. We're closing for today," Her employer and co-worker announced, turning off the machines and fridges, placing the chairs back into the booth. If it were an ordinary day, Georgie would have helped. But it wasn't.

In a blink of an eye, Georgie ripped the apron off her body with a single hand, the other removing the damnable hat from her air-deprived head, darting out of the place and into the cold thin sand, blindly fixing her hair as she ran like a madwoman through the beach in search for an immortal being.

It was night and the beach was nearly deserted, but it didn't stop the embarrassment creeping at her cheeks and making her sweat even more. It was stupid. The whole plan was stupid. Georgie was the stupidest girl to ever run on this sand.

With those intrusive thoughts webbing into her mind, all Georgie wanted to do was to stop, sit somewhere with free wi-fi, and browse her favourite vampire forum: Fang You Very Munch (which, despite the cringe-worthy name, the people were really cool and down to Earth); and just tune out from reality, even if her current reality featured the object of her daydreams.

But before she could realize it, with her peripheral vision, she had spotted a dark figure through a glass window.

There, elegantly holding a wine glass with a liquid too thick and dark to be actual wine, was Adrian. With mischievous eyes and a permanent smirk lifting the corner of his lips, he always looked like the keeper of some obscure knowledge nobody else knew about.

He joyfully laughed at someone out of the window frame.

Hesitantly, Georgie slid a hand inside her jeans' back pocket, reaching for the cheap letter envelope she bought at some off-street gas station in France. The plan back then was to give it to him there, on the same day she wrote the letter, four years ago, but as soon as she went looking for him, he'd disappeared. The forum updated her on his whereabouts: Adrian had returned to Moldermouth Castle, all the way down to England. Georgie had cried for five days in a roll, for another chance that slipped away between her fingers, like the beach sand.

She wouldn't make the same mistake now.