It's A Family Matter. [BoyXBoy] (ON HOLD)

Chapter 1

[Damian POV]

New Orleans.

Nineteen Thirty-one.

I was young... In a sense. I was one hundred and fifty-six years old, and still looking as if I was nineteen. Blond hair and faded blue eyes was considered a beauty in that time. How ever it was three in the morning, I couldn't sleep (as usual), and I wanted to be slightly entertained. I paused in front of a night club, one of the ones that you sit at a table and listen to the singer.... Since I had nothing better to do, I went inside.

Jazz was popular still, and this place held no exception. I sat at the one unoccupied table and waited for the singer to start. A Cajun man, most likely the owner of the club, strutted on stage.

"Ladies and gen'lemen... You know our boy, and you love 'im wit' yo' 'arts... Givvit up fo' our dear... Sebastian Faust!" The music played, starting with a slight clarinet solo.

A silhouette in the shadows appeared the thin curtain, looking very feminine and curvy. They pulled away to view a handsome boy. Glasz eyes shining, he waited for the cue.

"'Bout twenty years ago... Way down in New Orleans...." His voice was sultry and low, his eyes swiveled to meet mine. He wore something that would resemble a female night singer's dress... Only in suit form. His chestnut hair was ruffled and disheveled, which made me want to, for some reason, be the reason why it was so wild. He took a breath to begin singing again after all the cheering he had been givin.

"A group of fellers found a new kind of music...

And they decided to call it... Jazz...

No other sound has what this music has...

Before they knew it, it was whizzin' 'round the world

The world was ready for a blue kind of music....

And now they play it from Steamboat Springs

To... La...Paz!" The beat became uplifted and excited, his full lips stretching into a smile. He rose his hands to snap his fingers on the beat. Everyone else in the club clapped their hands when he snapped his fingers, and stomped their feet as well. He started to sing again.

"Oh, baby, won't you play me La Jazz Hot, maybe

And don't ever let it end.

I tell ya friend, it's somethin' to hear,

I can't sit still when there's that rhythm near me!

Also, baby, La Jazz Hot may be what's holdin' my soul together.

Don't know whether it's mornin' or night,

Only know it's soundin' right!

So come on in and play me La Jazz Hot, baby

'Cause I love my Jazz.... Hot!" That was when.... He began to dance. It was seduction in movement. He ran his fingers through his hair and grinned, the music about to get to the next part of the song.

"Before they knew it, it was whizzin' 'round the world.

The world was ready for a blue kind of music

An' now they play it from Steamboat Springs to La Paz!

When you play me La Jazz Hot baby, you're holdin' my soul together!

Don't know whether it's mornin' or night

Only know it's soundin' right!

So come on in an' play me La Jazz Hot!

'Cause I love my Jazz hot!

La...... Jazz....... Hot~!

La. Jazz. Hot." He threw up his hands, making a make-shift V with his arms, showing that his time to shine for the night was over. His eyes met mine again, and his smile grew. After the applause was over, he motioned me to the bar. I sat at one of the vacant stools, while he took the one next to mine. His energy seemed to make my non-beating heart want to shift, even by a little.

"So......" He drawled, his lips making an 'O' around the sound. "'Aven't seen ya 'round 'ere. Wha's ya name?" His Southern accent led me to believe he was from around here. Typical.

"I don't go to places like this much. They don't seem to entertain me... Until now, that is." His eyes widened at my accent. It was English, and yet older, at the same time. He smirked widely.

"I see now." His 'I' was more of 'Ah'. "I wuz wundrin' where ya from. Ya British." He showed his upper teeth in his smile, making them seem like vampire teeth. If only he knew. He giggled. "I always liked tha foreign guys. Dey seem mo'..... Fun, if ya know wha' I mean."  My eyes widened this time. He rode the other bus? Interesting.....

"'Cas.... 'Round 'ere, people don' care wha' ya into... As lon' ya sing goo', dey don' give a shit." He glared into his red wine, his blue-green eyes looking hurt. "Dey care if ya t'roat hurts, but, nut'in' else." I grabbed his free hand, holding it to my lips. He looked kind of shocked that I would kiss his hand like royalty, but hey, what can you do?

"Well, I'm not one of those morons. I actually care." I smiled gently, still holding his hand. And slowly, he smiled back.

"Well... I'm glad."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The funny thing was, not one person looked at us funny as we walked down the street, hand in hand.  Though, one man called out to Sebastian "Yeah, boy, getcha sum!" I chuckled at that.

Then that feeling came to me.

The feeling that says "You have to run if you want to live."

"Hey, Sebastian?"

"Yeah, darlin'?"

"Run with me!" That's when I started running, his hand still in mine. He was having major difficulty catching up with me.

"Hey! Hey! Hey! Whachoo doin'?!" He shrieked at me, but I couldn't stop. Well, I could, but not until the feeling went away... Soon it did, then I paused in my running, causing him to run into me, knocking us to the ground.

"Are ya friggin' insane?! 'Ow fas' were ya goin?! Dat ain't normal!" He screamed at me, which was well deserved.

BANG

Sebastian jolted for a second, touching a hand to his stomach. He slowly looked at his hand...

Blood.

He fell to his knees, the crimson liquid dripping from his lips and nose, then collapsed on the ground, his heart refusing to beat anymore. A pool oozed out of the wound proving that he wouldn't move for another second. I ran from the scene, ran from the body, ran from the killer.

Ran from the past, present and future.

Like I'm doing now.