Alek awakes with a start in the dining booth. The dream had scared him. Even though it was a part of him, he still had a hard time understanding what he felt. He had these dreams roughly every month. Each month becoming more and more detailed and painful to remember. The look of Daisy's helpless face as he lay dying was always in the forefront of his mind. His eyes glued to the table in front of him. On another note, he was lucky that the sleep dulled his hunger.

A spotted, dark hand slides a white mug of black coffee beneath his nose. Alek lifts his head to meet a familiar basketball jersey. Instantly, he bolts upward. Jordan was standing beside the booth. His chin was black and blue. Alek motioned towards it with his eyes

“What did you do?” He asked in a monotone voice.

“I don’t want any trouble” Jordan replied.

“It didn’t look like it an hour ago. How did you get the bruise?” Alek inquired once again. The battered teen shrugs.

“I disagreed with my boy after we lost track of you. I said that you seemed nicer than what we were led on. But he went batshit on me-” his eyes turned fiery as he recalled “-he beat on me. Saying I was a pussy and that your kind should be dealt with. Here-“ he motions toward Aleks seat, and seats himself. They both then sit down on opposite sides of the booth.

Alek shifts uncomfortably. He could feel eyes on him. “I don’t get it. Why are you with him? Is he still looking for me?” Jordan fidgets his dry hands before him, watching the steam rise from the coffee mug. “You can have it”. Hesitantly, he reaches forward and takes a few quick gulps of it before shakily setting it down. No matter how this boy acted, Alek would not let his guard down for a second. He has seen these ploys before, and has paid for it greatly. Jordan was acting much different from on the court, almost paranoid.

“I was with him because I’m his assistant” he was staring at his cup. Delicately caressing the outer rim like a dolls face. Alek perks up.

“I thought so. But back to the other question again. Is Wendle still following me?” He moves forward slightly, never taking his eyes off his face. Jordan moves his face to the side to try and avoid Aleks accusing glare.

“I didn't mean to follow you. I was just working with him”

“Is. He. Still. Following. Me”

Jordan looks up at the low hanging light. It gave the situation a condensed and intimidating feel. There was an eerie pause. With the rain slowing, the diner was quiet.

“I don't know. I mean, I think so” Alek felt a wave of cold spread through his body. He sits back and crosses his arms.

“So that’s how it’s going to be. Did you try to stop him? Is that why you’re smashed up?” Alek tried not to show it, but he was horrified. This happened before, but it was usually the cops in his earlier days. Jordan nods. “Why did you come to tell me? Just because you went against him trying to kill me, doesn’t give you a reason to come warn me” Alek pointed out. It was an interesting thought. There was another moment of pensive silence.

“I don't know, man.” He whispers. His eyes were still glued to the coffee. Alek twists his tongue around in his mouth thoughtfully.

‘Nothing truly bad can happen now that he has told me. Even if he was lying, it wouldn't matter’ Alek ponders.

“Thank you” He breaks. Jordan looks up at last from his coffee. Which was lukewarm now, at best. “Really. I mean it”

“I'm sorry” Jordan replies.

“It’s alright. I promise I will find a way to somehow pay you back for this. And your ball” Alek smiles. Jordan laughs awkwardly.

“I'm still pissed at you about that, but nah, it’s okay. We’re even” He sits back in his booth. His mood had turned quickly with the slightest joke, which startled Alek. “Another thing,” he leans back in again “are those your fangs?” This shocked him. How Jordans' mood could change so fast he had no clue. Nevertheless, he pulled a confident finger up to his mouth and pointed at his right and canine, which was at least a half a tooth bigger than the rest. He did not use them much recently, but they do come in handy for opening things.

“I gueth. Ith gotthen uthed to then” -’I guess. I’ve gotten used to them’- he says past his finger. He pulls his hand down. “They cut up my bottom lip all the time. One hit to the jaw and I'm gashed”

Thunder thence shakes the small cafe, sending coffee to slip from the mug onto the table. Jordan stands suddenly on end.

“That must have been close!” He winds to Alek, tipping his hat off and running a hand over his hair. Alek marvels at Jordan. He was so energetic, and yet so paranoid. Caffeine? No. This seemed like his normal character. He was thrown off by him and comforted at the same time.

At this time, Carrie swaves her way to the table with the two contrasting boys.

“Would either of you want anything to pick on? Would you like a header on your coffee?” She asks, holding her notepad close to her breast. In reality, she had read the situation the moment Jordan had walked in and had been watching - mostly over Alek - for the duration of their discourse. Noticing the change in tone, she wafted over to their booth in hopes of gathering a profile on the weird person who seemed to have a powerful ghost of an assassin at his side.

“Oh! No thanks.” Jordan says, finishing off the rest of his drink. “Actually, I have to go. Uh,” He pulls out his phone and fumbles with it and his bag for a moment “Can you give me your number, man? Just in case?” He hands Alek his phone. Alek, sort of stunned at the amount of trust this man has, puts his number in. “I'll text you if anything happens” In a rush, Jordan stands and jogs out of the cafe. Not before dropping a five-dollar bill on the table for his drink.

Alek, gobsmacked, sits there staring at the exit in confusion. Carrie joins his party with doubled confusion.

“Interesting morning, huh? Here.” Carrie pours half a cup of fresh coffee into Jordans' deserted cup. Alek takes it up wordlessly and inhales deeply, closing his hazed eyes. A few moments pass of oddly comfortable silence before Alek begins to unveil the details of his day without her.

“...So now I guess his friend” -he air quotes ‘friend’- “has a personal grudge against me.” He puts a finger up to her with a smile, his voice rising with his own emotion, “Nope! Not because of my character or, like, I hurt anyone he knows. Just simply because of my species.” Raising both hands, he flails them in front of himself expressively. Taking note of the unnatural burst of tone in the boy before her, she casts her glance around in the deserted cafe. Once satisfied neither of them would cause a disturbance, she sits across from him where Jordan once sat. Alek Murphy thence slides back in his seat while crossing his arms with discontent.

The concerned older friend and boss lends a hand across the table and rests it upon the youngers in sympathy.

“Are you sure you are going to be okay?” She inquires. Millions of motherly thoughts run through her head like a tidal wave breaking shore. Although she never had or could have kids due to infertility, she found solace in the person before her. Even though he was a bit older than her; he still had the body of (and even sometimes the mentality of) a young teenage boy. She sought most times to be as much of a friend as possible to him. Lest he should be offended. There was such that disconnect between the two.

Alek looks up under his heavy eyelids to meet those of a woman he does not know. Yet of a woman with all the passion and grace of a hardened, motherly soldier protecting her young child. He sighs with a twinge in his heart.

“Yes. But I'm actually hungry. I guess I’m worn out?” He says mostly to himself. This doesn't startle Carrie. As she had prepared his meal soon after he came at the crack of dawn that morning. Seeing as irritable he was, she thought it was best to get ahead.

“Okay. I’ll be right back then.” She nearly whispers. She stands and steals away into the kitchen. Alek waits in the uncomfortable seat, watching the rain splash after the cars as if it was trying to catch up with them. Dull rumbles can be felt after bright flashes of lightning that decorate the outdoors in a lurid glow. He begins hovering slightly to compensate for the uncomfortable booth. The smell of warm, aerated blood drifts by his senses. He instinctively perks up and turns his head to the entrance of the kitchen. Just then, Carrie steps into the main bar and sets a white mug on the long table. Alek floats out of his chair and drifts into the stool closest to the mug. His stomach rumbles as the thunder outdoors. He gazes into the pristine mug to see the deep red fluid. Seeing his reflection back, he decides to ask Carrie a question before giving in to the craving.

“You really should stop giving me your own blood every day. That has to be bad for you, losing all that blood volume and all.” Alek then takes up the cup and brings it to his lips like it wasn't using all of his control not to smash the ceramic into his face like a ravaged animal. She taps her nail casually on the table to the right of him.

“It is.” She confirms suspiciously. “That’s why I don’t.”

His head shoots up from his cup.

“What do you mean?” He asks. Now that she mentions it, it does taste a little different every day. And it was too late for him to refuse it because he had already finished it.

“What? Did you think I would kill myself for you?”

“No? But! Where do you get it? You’re worrying me here!” He bursts, floating higher in his chair until his thighs touched the table's edge. Carrie stands up straighter and begins walking into the kitchen. “Hey-”

“Come here. I’ll show you.” She calls. Alek hops down and plods into the kitchen. The worst thing he could think of was, if he walked back, to see dead people laying with their arteries tapped. A thought that made him oddly amused was if they had bar taps in their necks. But none of the sort were in the back. The same pristine kitchen he knew surrounded him comfortingly. But this room was hiding a secret. That he knew.

Keeping her back to the boy, Carrie swiftly opens the freezer door. Expecting something horrendous, Alek floats back cautiously. Carrie then steps aside to reveal something less tremulous than he had been perspiring about.

Tupperware bowls filled with blood line the right half of the large freezer. Alek moves closer and inspects the bowls. They were uniform lidded bowls with frozen blood inside. A barrage of questions run through his mind. He looks back to Carrie, who walks up next to him.

“I have a friend who works in a hospital. I told her I wanted to make a new dish for the cafe that involved human blood. She was really off-put at first. She even referred me to a butcher that sells pig and cow blood.” She smiles, proud of herself “But I told her that it wouldn't be the same. She finally gave in, and has started giving me the older bags that are close to expiring.”

Alek was speechless. He thinks that he should feel confused or even angry, but all he could feel now was gratitude. He shifts himself to stand on the ground once more and looks at her with a dumbfounded smile.

“Ah! You don't have to thank me! Connections make everything easier, I guess. And now I don’t have to feel lethargic every day!” She blurts. Alek shifts his gaze back at the frozen blood.

“Your friend must really think you’re insane. You don't think she would tell anyone, would she? What about everyone who works here? We don't make anything with blood, so they are bound to be curious. What if your friend gets fired?!” Rambling, Alek tries to make sense of the concept. Carrie shifts her weight to one side, cocking her head and putting her right hand on her hip.

“Would’ja stop worrying already! I have it all covered. Besides. If it weren't for me, you would be a mass murderer of the night, right?” She jokes, swaying her hands around. Although, she seemed nearly too fidgety for her neat composure. Alek sighs. His anxiety was getting the best of him, and maybe it was for the best. Getting one person fired wasn't nearly as bad as what he used to do.

“I'm sorry. It’s just…not what I was expecting. Thank you?” To his dismay, the sincere statement betrayed him and turned into a question. A few moments pass. Carrie takes another step towards him and bends slightly, meeting eyes. Alek felt uncomfortable under the stare of worried eyes. The silence was deafening.