Leonardo di Caprio is a Vampire by Julie Lynn Hayes Read Free Book Online Page A

don't worry. Just 'cause I'm taking myself out of circulation doesn't mean I'm dying!"
    "Lana, you can't marry him," Boba Fett continued to protest. "Marry me. I can make you happier than he can. And I have more money than he does…."
    What? Fisher's head felt like it was ready to explode. He backed away from the laughing chattering group, feeling the need for some fresh air. Now. He worked his way through some minglers meandering about, going nowhere in particular but managing to get in his way. Maybe he could find the bathroom. He turned down a hallway, but the first door he tried led him into a bedroom, occupied by a furiously necking couple. They never noticed when he hastily closed the door behind him, moving on.
    The next door he tried led into a powder room, done up in frilly pinks and purples and matching plush animals, but he was grateful for what he could find. He pulled off his mask, setting it on the back of the toilet. Cupping his hands together, he splashed cool water upon his face, ignoring the silent stuffed audience arrayed around him. Hunter's words were assuming a more sinister significance, one he didn't care for in the slightest. Knowing he was with someone else would be hard enough, but to have that someone else be Lana was well nigh unbearable.
    Who was he kidding? He stared at his too pale face in the oval mirror, a picture of unhappiness. He would be miserable no matter who Hunter chose to spend his life with, if it wasn't him. So why not tell him that he loved him? Tell Hunter that he was so much a part of himself, and his life, that he felt as if his heart would break without him; that if Hunter left there would be a hole inside of him where he fit so perfectly now? Why not tell him all this and more? Because he knew it wouldn't make any difference. And he couldn't bear the rejection that was sure to follow upon such a declaration. And maybe worse.
    Real life didn't work like that. That was the movies. Fisher knew better.
    He replaced the mask and slipped out of the powder room, almost colliding with a tall blonde girl with meatball-ponytails, gawky in a school uniform, a makeshift scepter in her hand. "Oops!" she giggled as they danced around one another. "Sailor Moon drink too much!" She giggled again, pushed past him and disappeared from view, hastily slamming the door in her wake.
    Continuing, Fisher found a door which led outside. He welcomed the rush of the chill night air. There was a terraced garden/patio on this side of the house, and a path that led to the woods. All of the furniture had been removed, leaving the stones bare, other than a pile of something in the middle. No one else was here, probably apprehensive over the threat of more rain and the potential ruination of their costumes. Fisher appreciated the temporary solitude.
    Why did his life seem to be unraveling at this moment? Hadn't he done everything he should, taken the path that people thought he should take, chosen the right course of action? He had gone into journalism, just as his mom had told him he should, put away the novel he'd begun during his high school years—buried it so deeply that it only came to mind during times of great agitation, such as now. He'd gotten his degree, gotten a good job, bought his own house, paid his bills on time, and supported himself. He donated as much as he could spare to charitable causes. He visited his mother regularly. In fact he was the perfect son in all ways but one—he had never taken the big step with any of the girls that he dated, never made a commitment to any of them, and certainly never asked one of them the big question to end all questions.
    On that subject, Fisher could not be budged.
    He had told himself that he simply wasn't ready, he hadn't found the right girl, he wanted to be even more financially stable than he was, further ahead in his career. But those were all lies. Damnable lies. He just couldn't keep lying to himself any more, though, now when the truth was