To Jethro, constantly pushing me forward.

I hurried out of the office as fast as I could. Why would anyone notice someone like me leaving? I was a temporary data entry drone, my fresh face sullied by the new dull monotony of everything.

The rain, pattering down on my head, gave me relief. The air was no longer recycled. The unnaturally clean office ceiling, walls, and floors were behind me for two days and an evening. I was free! Free to do….

What? 

I still needed to figure out what to do with my free time. My friends and I had been ripped apart by life's obligations. My girlfriend had-

I pushed the memory of my girlfriend out of my mind. It was too painful to think about.

I got into my car, a hand-me-down from my brother that never seemed to get clean, no matter how hard I tried to scrub it.

The car came to life with a groan, and I pulled away. The sickly brown and grey office building shrank away mercifully, gradually enshrouded by flats and autumn trees.

As I drove, the prospect of returning to an empty apartment filled me with dread. I could play video games. I had a backlog of games to go through. Nevertheless, I wanted to meet people and see other faces that didn't belong to my co-workers or boss.

I was not much of a drinker during my university days; I was one of the good ones. Top of my class, I was a pet to the professors, and my parents loved my strong work ethic.

But now I was stuck in traffic heading towards the freeway.

The need for a drink called to me like a siren. A yarning that I haven't felt since I started Uni four years ago. I spotted a billboard for a new sports bar no more than a few minutes away from the nearest turn-off.

'Am I becoming an alcoholic?' I wondered; how my body screamed for the fun I denied myself was overwhelming. 

The cars started to move; it would be now or never.

"Damn it!" I muttered and turned off the car-clogged main road into a deserted back road.

The roads were almost completely clear of foot traffic in the evening; they were crowded with stationary cars. Moreover, the absence of designated parking quickly made me struggle to find any space to pull up.

Eventually, I found a spot on the unclaimed sidewalk, a few streets from the sports bar.

I sprung out of my car and walked briskly.

The rain fell lightly, not enough to drench me, but it provided a welcomed respite from the smog and car horns of the main road.

I was never interested in sports when I was younger. I would always read or play games on my Xbox. Now with the rain falling, I noticed how skinny I was. I needed to exercise more and bulk up more. There were some mountain trails outside the city. There could be clubs to join, something to do on weekends.

The streets I walked were made up of broken sidewalks and potholed roads. The latter made little ponds, which appeared deceptively shallow. Discarded bottles, containers, and other rubbish gathered around the storm drains, threatening to clog them like the plastic rocks they resembled.

I made a mental note to sign up for hiking groups in my area first thing tomorrow. Not only was it the exercise I needed, but also a break from the monotony of my current. Right now, however, all I wanted was a drink.

The sports bar, or The Football as the glittering neon sign pronounced, had a dingy exterior, peeling paint, and black mold decorated the walls. The interior, however, projected an image of good-natured joviality. Better than my lonely apartment. 

A wave of ambient noise washed over me as I opened the door, followed almost instantly by a manly roar of triumph.

The smell of beer and cigarette smoke combined with the other sensory information generally experienced in a bar. That and the babbling of dozens of people trying to talk over each other in the small room created an utterly alien environment for me.

I went to the nearest barstool to make myself comfortable enough to socialize. How that would be achieved when everyone shouted at the top of their lungs was beyond me.

The bartender, a handsome and overworked man, came up to me. "Evening, what will it be?" he asked, positively drained.

"I'll have a pint of bitter, please," I said, uncertain what else to order.

"Coming right up!" he said, leaving me to fetch a glass.

None of the nearby people seemed interested in talking to me; they watched a football match. A game between England and Spain, I gathered from the flags on the screen. While these patrons were cheering for England, I could not tell who was winning or losing.

"Here you go!" The bartender said, pushing a tanker of warm frothy beer to me. "That will be four quid, please," he said.

I paid him and took a sip.

I tried not to scrap my tongue to eliminate the harsh, bitter assault on my mouth.

"First time drinking?" asked a teasing voice.

I turned towards the source, and to my left sat the strangest sight I had ever seen.

A woman sat on a bar stool, sipping a drink. That was not the unusual thing; it was that she was borderline monochrome.

Her skin was as smooth and pale as a polished pearl. And everything she wore was a shade of black. Her hair was dark like the midnight sky, silky smooth and flowing with the air of a river. Her dress, pure onyx in colour, shimmered with the power of twinkling stars and was modestly cut. Her carbon-colored boots, fur-trimmed, gave off the air of distinct class and wealth. However, the deep red of her lips and eyes stood out the most. 

"Yeah," I produced a strangled cough wishing privately for a glass of water.

Smiling mischievously, she handed me her drink. "This is so much better," 

Thanking her, I gulped down the liquid greedily.

She watched me, seemingly to thoroughly understand the desperation.

"Sorry, I'll buy you another," I croaked.

She held up a pale hand and shook her head, "No need. It was a gesture of goodwill," she laughed. 

The strange black and white woman called over the bartender.

I studied her eyes and lips while she spoke. She had to be wearing contacts; maybe she was a cosplayer who missed her ride home.

With surprising speed, the bartender returned, delivering a tall glass of water and a cocktail to the mysterious woman. She smiled at me, gesturing towards the water.

"Something to go with the beer or what you British call bitter?" 

Her accent clicked in my mind.

"You're American?" I asked.

"Unfortunately, yes," she purred, swirling the cocktail she had in her hand, the same that I had finished for her earlier. I learned later that it was something called Sex on the Beach.

"What on earth are you doing in a sports bar in this part of the city?" I asked, uncertain what else to talk about.

"I live in New York, so I've been to places like this. I can take care of myself," she said, winking. I shuddered at a familiarity that I could not quite put my finger on.

"I wanted to explore places in the UK that weren't on the tourism board, something a little different," her lips teased the edge of her glass as she took a slow and seductive sip.

My stomach let out an intrusive growl. 

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 "Err do you want to have dinner with me?" Then, I stammered, "As payment for your drink's sacrifice?" 

"I would be delighted at the invitation," 

After deciding she should at least try the stereotypical English food of fish and chips, we placed our order and started to talk.

The sounds and smells of The Football just melted away as I spoke to her. She was new yet somehow familiar in a way that created nostalgia for my university days.

 "Call me Lucy!" she said, handing over her hand for an introductory shake.

"Martin," I replied.

"Ahh, Martin, that's a lovely name. It reminds me of someone I knew back in the day," 

Her name had a similar effect on me-it brought back memories of my last girlfriend. My emotionally immature ex. I blocked the thought and got back to the conversation.

"What do you do for a living?" I asked, my skin crawling with the mundaneness of the question.

Lucy chuckled, "I am a model; I pose for book and movie promotions," 

"Ah, so you were doing a photo shoot this evening!" I exclaimed, guessing the explanation for her peculiar look.

"Nope, this is how I dress normally; I am a big fan of the Goth look." A sly smile grew as she took another sip of her drink.

"Don't people stare at you?" 

"Yes, that's why I only leave my crypt at night to stalk the living," She laughed heartily at her joke.

I laughed as well; any humor after the monotony of the office was good enough for me. Lucy's introduction was like a knife slicing through my meaningless existence. She was captivating in a way that made me forget everything about my life. I needed someone like Lucy more than ever now.

"That's enough about me, though; what do you do?" she said, leaning forward just as the fish and chips arrived. 

The food was slathered in a thick coat of grease and laced with salt and pepper, perfect for a foreigner.

"I am a data entry temp," I said, inadequacy brewing.

The room went quiet after the words came out as if the mere thought repulsed the whole world.

"What are your hobbies?" she inquired in between bites.

"Gaming," 

"And?" 

"That's all." 

"Oh, dear." 

"Yeah..."

"That will not do, Martin," Lucy said, shaking her head disapprovingly. "I think we'll need to do something." she gobbled down a chip as she gave the ominous declaration.

"Which would be?" I stammered.

"A joyride!" Lucy announced, throwing her milky white arms up with appropriate theatrical flair.

"What?" 

"I can tell you've never done that before! So we'll ride through the city together!" 

I had no idea what to say. My legs were frozen to the barstool, my fish and chips growing cold. The last thing my girlfriend and I argued over was taking a joyride the night before finals.

'No, get over yourself!' I scolded myself for dwelling on the past. But, I would not let my previous inactions hold me back.

"Alright, let's do it!" I said, trying to drum out of nagging fear of familiarity mixed with foreboding.

She grinned, mopped up the grease with the last fish, and began rummaging in her tar-black handbag.

Despite my best efforts to the contrary, Lucy insisted on paying for half of the meal. Saving money was always a nice treat for my bank account.

The rain had stopped, but heavy grey clouds still hung overhead, threatening to burst again at any moment. 

Lucy walked alongside me, breathing in the scent of fallen rain with hungry abandon.

"Ever had a girlfriend before?" Lucy suddenly enquired. 

I didn't know what to say. I wondered why she would ask me this question when she barely knew me. 

However, I couldn't escape the sensation that she did know me. As if somehow she was pushing me out of my comfort zone because she knew how difficult it was for me to try something new.

"Once, in Uni," I confided,

"No longer together?"

"No," 

"I'm sorry," 

"She and I grew up differently. I have no idea if she even passed her finals."

We arrived at the car, which was glistening and clean from the rain. Lucy leaned against the vehicle expectantly.

"I'm sure she did," Lucy said with a wink, leaning against the car expectedly.

I fumbled for my key. Her pale, monochrome colour scheme had begun to take on an alluring quality. Her hair had become more radiant than it was when I met her only hours earlier. It could be the change in scenery. The noise and chaos of the bar were replaced with the midnight quiet. Lucy's black and white colour scheme blended seamlessly with the night. It made her all the more beautiful and mysterious, her contrasting red lips and eyes even more intriguing.

I pulled my attention away from her as I focused on getting us to the highway. Aside from a few stray cars, it was utterly void of life. I got up to speed, driving at a reasonably safe speed.

A cold hand playfully wandered onto my left hand like a curious spider.

"Faster." she breathed.

The hairs on the back of my neck rose, and I pressed down slowly on the accelerator.

The car revved up, and the speed metre inched towards the maximum legal speed limit.

"Faster," she encouraged, holding my hand in an icy vice.

I pushed down further, my heart racing from the illegality of what I was doing.

"Faster," my Goth companion ordered in a husky whisper.

I floored my accelerator; the car flew at the speed of a bullet train.

Lucy wound down the window, put her head outside, and howled joyfully. I joined in from my seat, howling and screaming with an intensity I had never felt before.

Somehow, we survived, and we found ourselves outside my flat.

"Is this your place?"

Lucy purred.

I nodded.

"Shall we go inside? I want to show you something." Lucy purred.

My eyebrows raised. Was this happening? 

"I...I don't have..." 

"Oh no, it's nothing like that." Lucy laughed.

I breathed a sigh of relief.

My flat could have been more impressive and finely furnished. However, I always preferred a perfectly utilitarian lifestyle. However, my finances did play a big part in that choice.

Once we were inside, Lucy wrapped herself around me. "Wasn't that fun?" she asked, positively beaming.

"God, yeah, it was!" I responded, praying that none of this was a dream.

"Would you like to do something like that again?" she whispered. 

I nodded eagerly.

"Will you let me take control one last time?" 

I nodded again. 

"Very well," Lucy said, pride seeping in. "Then we shall begin," 

She guided me to lie on the settee.

She kneeled beside me, close to my neck, and opened her mouth to reveal a set of pale white fangs.

I yelped in surprise and sat up.

"What the hell?!" 

"I should have told you." She rubbed her forehead in sudden realisation of her mistake.

"Are those real?" I shouted.

"Yes." 

"You're a vampire." I could barely believe what I was saying.

"Yes," She responded calmly. 

"I think you should leave now." I barked.

"Remember your girlfriend?" Lucy asked, "That used to be me!" 

"How is that possible?" 

"I got through my finals and went to America," she explained, her chest raised with pride.

"I ended up in the same situation you're in now, Martin. No life outside a job you hate, slowly withering away and dying with nothing to remember." She lay a gentle hand on my chest. 

She reached out her hand and placed it gently on my chest as she continued. "Then, someone I met at a bar gave me a choice. The choice to become something more than another drone. To live a life more... Extraordinary. I want to give this to you now." 

I sat, frozen in shock, wondering what to do.

Lucy seemed to sense my hesitancy, "Do you want to go back to your data entry job, feeling your life drain away? Think about what I'm offering you! A life lived the way you want, completely unhampered by mortality. I have a community in New York filled with people like me. You could join us!"

After another contemplation, I lay back on the settee and closed my eyes.

"Do it, please," I said sheepishly. "Please."

"I promise that it won't hurt," Lucy said, her soft American accent getting close to my ear as I presumed she was kneeling again.

The next thing I felt was a shard of ice in my neck. However, the pain quickly numbed into a dull twinge. My heart rate sped rapidly before calming down into a slow, steady rhythm.

As a pale blackness took over my vision, I took comfort in that my life as Martin: the mortal, had come to a gentle, quiet end.