On the Edge of Eternity

I learned something on the flight to LA, the next night. I learned that is no one better to fly with than a rock band. We sat in first class, of course that annoyed all of the rich snobs, who looked at us as if we were annoying flies buzzing around their heads. Larry has a fear of flying to begin with, so even before we left , the mansion, he was wasted. Of course you have to be good at faking that you’re not or they won’t let you bored the flight. Larry is a very calm drunk, that is unless Alex and Ben, are drunk, then things can get a little rowdy, so once we were in the air all bets were off, Ben and Alex felt the need to catch up with Larry. Soon the band was singing songs off the album trying to convince a very sober Lestat to sing along. After they became bored with that, they decided to make fun of the passengers and crew, that was until the stewardess, told them they needed to calm down and be quite. There is nothing funnier than three grown men sitting on a plane drunk silently pouting. The rest of the flight was quite and uneventful. Waiting for us at the air port was a limo. I was unbelievably excited , I had never rode in one before, not even to my prom, and neither had Lindsey, so of course we couldn’t resist sticking our heads out the sun roof, a screaming our heads off while we drove through down town LA, on the way to the hotel. How stereotypical tourists we were.

The first morning I awoke in LA, the sun streaming through the second floor window of the Beverly Hills Hotel, I didn’t waste one second laying in bed doing nothing. There was too much to see, too much to do. We had to see the Chinese theater, and the Walk of fame. Lindsey and I had booked ourselves solid from our sight seeing to our laying on the beach and to our shopping sprees with Lestat’s credit card that he had so willingly given me in New Orleans. It seemed that with each passing day more and more people began to recognize Lestat and the Band when they were out and about. We were now in the ‘in’ crowed. New comers to the crowd, perhaps a bit of a novelty with the whole vampire thing, but we were still accepted. Of course Lindsey and I were just groupies in the eyes of the rest of the world. But groupies are an essential part of the rock star culture. Zach the band’s manager even told Lindsey and I to drop names if we ever felt the need to, like we wanted the best table at a five star restaurant and we weren’t getting it. I however never felt comfortable doing that, Lindsey on the other hand dropped Lestat’s name like a hot potato.
On the fifth night of filming, the first interesting thing of the trip happened. It was the fifth night in a row that I was going to be sitting on the set of a music video filming, bored out of my mind. I was already in a foul mood, but that was slightly out of my hands as it is every month for about five days. However this time it seemed much worse. The band was filming the video for ‘Those Who Must Be Kept’ that night. The story of how Lestat had woke the first vampires who had ruled over Egypt before it was Egypt, and how the queen had allowed him to drink from her. One tiny little fact that Lestat was leaving out of this was Marius saving him for Enkil the king.
I was a mere groupie, to the pretty girl who was playing the role of Akasha, the beautiful queen of the damned. And she was practically drooling all over Lestat. I am a jealous person by nature, but oh how I was trying so hard to keep it hidden. I knew that Lestat loved me and had no real interest in her, but that didn’t matter to me not this week at least. I kept sending Lindsey who was sitting on the right of me texts, about how much I disliked this girl and how I thought I was about to die of boredom. While Lestat, Ben, Larry and Alex looked like they were having the time of their lives. She too was bored and was doing her best to keep in entertained with jokes.
“Okay,” the director called, “ lets take five and redo that last part again.”
“Again?” I muttered to Lindsey as I rolled my eyes. Lestat’s blond hair was damp, and his pale face had a thin layer of blood tinted sweat covering it. He was tired, and I felt how tense he was when he leaned over my left shoulder and kissed my cheek, “I’m bored Lestat,” I said my voice dry and harsh. Why I said it I do not know. I didn’t expect him to fix it, I just felt it nesacery for him to know.
I knew I had made a mistake when I said that, “Then leave.” Lestat’s response was cold and harsh. And just the tone of his words had rubbed me the wrong way.
“Fine,” I said hopping off of my chair. My voice had been just as firm and resolute as his had been.
When I reached for the soundstage door, Lestat called to me, “Amber!” I could tell he was angry from the tone of his voice, but he would have been quick to forgive me, if I turned around, if.
I should have went back then, I know I should have, if I didn’t have the temper or pride that I do, I would have, but my temper and hormones faired when he called to me, “Bite me!” I yelled as I continued to walk out my right middle finger held above my right shoulder. I felt him give me ‘the look’. And I smiled at my little pun of ‘bite me’. I knew as soon as the door slammed shut behind me I was being a big fat retard. But no, I had my pride and I wasn’t going to let him win. So I sat out to find the hotel. How was I going to make things better with Lestat tomorrow night? Oh well did it matter right now? How was I going to get back to the Beverly Hills Hotel. I didn’t know where the hell I was. ‘Damn,’ I thought, ‘I need Lindsey, actually why hasn’t she texted me yet? Great, I forgot my cell phone. How retarded am I?’
Yes I was screwed LA was not a city you wanted to wander around in the dark in. And Lestat couldn’t read my thoughts so I was on my own. Well maybe if some creeper decided that they wanted to kill me Angel would swoop in and save me. And so as I wandered aimlessly so did my mind. Mostly to thoughts of if Lestat is real then perhaps Angel it too, and then Spike could also be real. I hardly noticed that I was walking past homeless kids younger than I was. And of course I was dressed as a prime target for someone to mug. I was dressed in a designer red silk blouse, a ribbon tied around my waist, the short sleeves puffed slightly , my collar turned up like a greaser from the 50’s would have been and tiny crystal buttons down my front, then my dark skinny jeans that clung to my ankles just above my glistening silver heels, so there was no chance in hell I’d be able to run. And so I continued on my way that is until something caught my eye , and then I felt something I hadn’t since Lestat had been stalking me. Was there a vampire in this establishment? I looked up at the sign Bela Lugosi. It looked like a clean and legit establishment. I didn’t have enough cash to get myself wasted at a bar back home let alone one in LA, and there was no guarantee that I would get served. Besides this bar by the name of Bela Lugosi had peaked my curiosity. And I knew one day curiosity would be what got this kitty, even if I gave into Lestat wouldn’t that be out of curiosity because I would want to know what it was like to be a vampire? I pushed all those thoughts to the back of my mind and walked in the door. Besides that, they would have a phone in there, and I could call my phone and pray to god that someone would answer it.