Follow You ~ Denis Stoff (2016)

Firsts.

The boy was staring. At me. It's not like I hadn't noticed him before. He was there when I arrived, and checked back regularly throughout the night. Normally, he only showed up an hour before I left. I kept my speed up and kept my headphones in, running on the treadmill all night as usual. I watched the brown haired boy as a bead of sweat dripped down my forehead. He raised an eyebrow at me. I looked forward again at the TV in front of me until I saw him leave out of the corner of my eyes. What's his problem? You can run until your chest burns, and until your legs give out. But my lungs never burned, and my legs never gave out, so I could have run forever if I wanted to.

"Excuse me." The brown haired boy appeared in front of me. I stopped my machine instantly and looked at him curiously. "I'm Denis."

"Nice." I said flatly.

"Your name is?"

"Melissa." I said in the same tone. "Problem?"

"No, no. I'm just impressed. You've been running for hours." I sighed and crossed my arms.

"You would know." He smiled, flashing his perfect teeth, and licked his lips.

"So I'm curious. Why are you always here?"

"Stay in shape?" I shrugged.

"What do you do?"

"Why does it matter?" I rolled my eyes. My god he's annoying.

"I just asked a question..."

"If I wanted to be asked questions I would apply for another job. But I'm at the gym. To run. So may I?" Denis rolled his eyes and walked away.

"Bitch." He muttered to himself. I went back to running.

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"Here," Josh handed me a cloth bag. I knew the contents. "I still don't know what you want with this?"

"You don't need to." I handed him the money and started off down the alley, my heels clicking against the damp pavement.

"I don't even remember your name!" He called after me. I got in my car and drove back to my small apartment around the corner from the bar. It was a no bedroom apartment - there was only one room, and a bathroom. When you walk in the front door, directly to the left is the small kitchen, with a stove, and a fridge, and nothing in the cupboards accept for one glass. Past the kitchen was my king-size mattress on the floor in the corner, with a clock and a lamp on the ground beside it. There was a pull out couch in the corner across from it, with a coffee table in front, and no TV. I hardly spent any time at home, other than sleeping during the day. I dropped my gym bag at the door and kicked off my vans, slamming and locking the heavy metal door behind myself. I carried my other bag to the kitchen and took out the four canisters inside. Four thermoses of pure fresh blood. Josh, was my 'dealer' if you will. You see, I didn't ask how he got the blood in the first place, and he usually didn't ask what I wanted with it. All I knew is I met him in an alley every Friday morning and paid him fifty dollars, and his name was Josh. That's all I needed to know. I opened on and poured its contents into my one wine glass. I spent the rest of the day finishing the canister, and resting until my shift starting at five PM.