Chapter Text
It was just past four in the afternoon in the French Quarter—a perfect spring day for Daniel to spend inside getting wasted. The wooden bar top was sticky when he put his empty glass down. “Another one, please,” Daniel kindly asked the bartender. He slouched into the cushioned bar stool, placed an elbow on the edge of the bar, and rested his head into his palm. Once the bartender handed him a new drink, he perked up a bit. He let the scotch burn on his tongue before he swallowed that first taste, and he scanned the room. There were a few other people that shared the small cozy space with him—more had joined since he came in a while ago—probably for happy hour. The speakers roared modern pop songs, unfortunately not loud enough to drown out his mind.
All he could do was think about Louis, and of course Armand. Being in New Orleans reminded him of the best, and the worst interactions he’s had with the supernatural. After his interview with Louis in San Francisco, he came here to find Lestat, and Armand had found him instead. It had been about two years since their dance had begun. Daniel tried to get away from Armand, but it was pointless. The vampire was following him all around the world. Luckily, he had a break from the chaos—it had been a few weeks since he had last seen Armand when Daniel went to revisit San Francisco. He ran from Armand, and one vampiric crime scene, just to wind up in another back in Louisiana. Both vampires he met were understanding and violent creatures, and they both toyed with his life.
If Daniel kept up with the train of recollected thoughts, he would soon see the bottom of several more glasses of scotch, but there was something in the corner that caught his attention. A good looking group of young people were sitting around a circle booth, and they had mentioned the name ‘Lestat’. Not uncommon for Daniel to pick the name out of a crowd, since he wrote the book that had mortals discussing things of this nature, but this wasn’t like that at all. This group was speaking of Lestat as though they knew him, or at least someone with the same name, though that was quite impossible with a name like that. He had to find out for himself, so he finished the last little swig of his drink, and got up from the bar. Hands wipe down his black sweatshirt and dark jeans nervously stepping closer to the small party.
Scratching behind his ear, he calls attention to himself in front of the trio seated in the booth before him. “Sorry to barge in like this, but, um, do you guys know someone named Lestat?” Daniel anxiously questioned the group as his eyes darted between every member.
With their better judgement, they paused and raked over the man in front of them, then shared quick glances between themselves, and there was a short but strange moment of silence. Suddenly, one of the men at the table starts laughing, and then the whole group erupts into a giggling fit. The other man gestures for Daniel to get in their booth with them. “Sit down. It's funny you should mention that,” he starts as he slides in to make room for the company. “We met the Vampire Lestat about a month ago.”
This really sent Daniel into a wave of disbelief, and it was obvious to the group, who all began to laugh again as he scooted into the booth. They were simply giddy that someone had come to talk about it, for they were still in amazement themselves.
“We don’t mean to be rude,” the woman at the table began, swallowing her chuckles. “My name is Tough Cookie, and this here is Alex and that’s Larry. They are brothers. Long story short, we are in a rock band that used to be called ‘Satan’s Night Out’, but some guy claiming to be the Vampire Lestat came to our place a few weeks ago. You know, the cool guy from the book Interview with the Vampire. You must have read it then, haven’t you? Well anyways, he said he would make us famous, and let me tell you, he was the real deal. We literally just changed our band name to ‘The Vampire Lestat’ and started jamming out some new songs this week.”
Now this was almost too good to be true. He never wanted the notoriety, but it was clear he needed to reveal his identity to the crew. They had been so easily earnest, and welcoming to him, surely they would take the news well. “Yeah, I know the book,” he paused, “I wrote it.”
“Did you really?” Alex immediately questions with complete shock and awe.
Larry slaps his brother's chest lightly with the back of his hand. “I’m sure he’s telling the truth,” he snaps glaring at Alex, then turns to look back at Daniel. “You’ll have to excuse my brother, drummers aren’t always bright, and we’ve had our fair share of shocking news recently. I mean, you should have seen the way this one catatonically stared at the guy when he revealed his character and showed off his skills. Now that was funny.”
“Okay sure,” Alex added, “but he could play any instrument, and his voice is incredible! It’s actually kind of insane how talented he is.
“What’s insane is that we have a famous author sitting in our booth, and not just any famous author either,” Tough Cookie smiled at Daniel, and casually took a sip of her drink. “Honestly, we have you to thank for our new band. I mean, it must be nice to know that people like your stuff enough to play your characters in real life. I can’t imagine what that must be like. But you have to come meet this guy! What’s your real name?”
“Daniel. Daniel Molloy.”
“Well, Daniel Molloy,” Tough Cookie explains, “I’m so glad you caught us when you did. We’ve gotta get out of here in just a second, but you should definitely swing by the studio later. We plan to practice tonight starting around nine. I bet this Lestat will be so happy to meet with the author of his rock vampire persona!”
She takes out a card with the band's name on it, and scratches down the address to the studio on the back with a pen from her bag. “Here,” she states, holding out the card for Daniel to take. He grabs it, and repeatedly flips the card over and over while the band of mortals gets up from the booth—hard white cardstock with gold foil lettering contrasted with the fresh blue ink on the other side. “Tonight, nine o’clock.” She raises an eyebrow and points at Daniel, and doesn’t turn around until she’s won the small head nod Daniel gave in confirmation of his later attendance.
Alone again in the bar; alone again with his thoughts. How strange that this little band knew Lestat and thought it was some kind of act or performance art or something else modern and explanatory like that. But it had to be him. Lestat was real, and these mortals thought Daniel had made the whole thing up. Maybe no one thought what he wrote was true, and perhaps that’s what’s best.
He glanced down at his watch—almost six. With plenty of time to get back to his hotel room, he pays his tab, and leaves the bar. He strolls the streets, slowly making his way back while smoking a cigarette. It was still tough to wrap his head around the whole thing. Why would Lestat form a band with these mortals? Then it hit him. He took a long drag and smirked. All these vampires just wanted to be seen! Louis and Armand had both revealed their nature to Daniel so easily. Hell, Louis wanted to show himself off to the entire world, and so maybe Lestat wanted the same thing. Daniel certainly couldn’t blame them for it, and he was a happy journalist for putting it all together.
Another drink is poured back in the hotel suite as Daniel celebrates with himself, and relaxes on the bed. He was finally going to meet Lestat. The proud excitement in him quickly melted into a reality crushing fear. He was going to meet Lestat. Face to face with yet another immortal killer who had every reason to want him dead. If Lestat had read Interview with the Vampire like Armand, Daniel could be in serious trouble. Armand told Daniel he had no issue being mentioned, because he had written almost exclusively positive things about Armand—unintentionally to his benefit, but Lestat was certainly the villain of his story, and could be hostile towards Daniel for that reason alone. This creature was far more powerful than Louis, and possibly even stronger than Armand.
After going back and forth, and finishing two more drinks, Daniel decided he couldn’t waste the opportunity. He would meet Lestat, or whoever this guy was, if it was the last thing he would ever do. Nine was soon approaching, and if he was going to do this, he needed to get his shit together now. Frantically, he rushed into the bathroom, brushed his teeth, washed his face, and tousled through his dark curly hair. Feeling more alert and refreshed, he takes a look over his outfit in the mirror and shrugs, content with the jeans and sweatshirt he is already wearing.
Back on the street, Daniel scurried along until he spotted the right location. He checks the inked address on the pocket-sized card, and matches it to the brick building in front of him. There is an intercom box by the door. He takes a deep breath in, then exhales sharply, and presses the bright red buzzer. The door clicks, and he pulls it open with both hands.
A short dark hallway lined with vintage records, and shiny awards in frames and glass cases. There are pictures of famous musicians, and scenes from sold out shows on the wall under dim lighting. His white shoes make a faint sound against the wood panel flooring as he steps closer to the open door where he can hear his name being called by a familiar voice. Peering his head into the room he knocks lightly on the door announcing his presence.
“Holy shit!” Daniel gasped at first sight of Lestat, appearing absolutely mortified. Flawless complexion, strong jaw with sharp facial features, a long yellow mane down to his shoulders, and piercingly blue eyes—this was without a doubt the one Louis described as his maker. And god, did he not look like the epitome of a rock star in a ripped tank top and dark, shiny pants, with his buckled black leather boots. A million thoughts raced through his mind, but he was petrified in place.
The vampire stayed seated in the luxurious desk chair in front of the sound board, arms and legs crossed, wide eyes fixed on the fresh blood. The boys of the band laugh on one couch, and Tough Cookie, the one who called him out from the hall, gets up from the other small sofa and hugs Daniel, leading him into the studio space. The pair sit together, and they all wait for Lestat to break the silence, obeying an instinct they couldn’t explain.
Lestat is more than thrilled with the situation he finds himself in, and decides to play it up. A wicked grin smears over his face. “Ah, so this is Daniel Molloy, author of Interview with the Vampire? I can’t thank you enough for your work. How truly inspiring.” The vampire voice was ominous and sinister, yet warm and welcoming—and so French. Daniel knew the charms, and the danger, and proceeded with caution.
“Well you couldn’t have come at a more perfect time,” Tough Cookie chimes in, slapping Daniel’s thigh lightly, and getting up from the couch. “We were really about to get distracted, but now that everyone’s here, we should get to work on our new song. I have a great idea for a guitar solo I’ve been shredding through.” She walks out and into the sound proof room on the other side of the glass, and the two brothers follow her inside. They fiddle around with their instruments, and Lestat makes some quiet remarks to their music producer next to him before getting up, and leaving one of the swivel chairs available for Daniel.
He maintains his perfect composure sauntering to the door, he turns back to Daniel, and smiles. “Enjoy it if you can,” Lestat whispers for his ears only. “You and I can chat later,” he winks at Daniel, sending a shiver down his spine—he could hardly breathe.
The band jammed and practiced for several hours; Daniel was privileged to witness. He sat next to their producer listening through his own pair of headphones, and watched the group through the thick pane of glass. They had a unique sound—distinctly rock n’ roll, but with a gothic and vampiric twist—it was completely perfect. He found himself tapping his foot or bobbing his head along to the rhythm often when they played, and as their session came to a close, Daniel’s heart started racing. Nervous butterflies burst from their cocoons in the boy’s stomach when instruments are packed away in sturdy plastic cases, and wires are wrapped up over themselves. It’s late, and everyone leaves the studio to go home, save Daniel and Lestat.
Two empty sofas, both black and velvet, sandwich a corner table. Lestat picks one, and plops himself in the middle of the plush surface; the black bottoms of his leather boots flash up in the air when he shifts back. He gawks at Daniel, stealing his heart in an instant, and then his gaze fixates over to the low glass top table between the two pieces of furniture. A silver box is the only item on display. It’s removed and opened by the vampire. The contents are clear as day to the mortal—cocaine. Lestat places the open container back down on the glass surface. “Hard to resist, huh?” He teases Daniel after reading through the boy’s impulsive thoughts. “Just sit down and do a line. It will help you relax.”
Reluctantly, Daniel gets up from his desk chair at the sound board, and sits down on the opposite couch, never letting his eyes leave the vampire. He checks out Lestat, who is snorting a line, and then the vampire slides the compact tray politely over to him. Without a single thought, he takes the tray from the vampire, centers it right in front of him, leans down, and bumps the rest of the long, pre-cut line. A fire courses through him starting in his nostrils, bleeding into his veins, and explodes into every one of his senses. He certainly feels better now, but this whole setup was reminding him of his interview with Louis, who had also encouraged Daniel with vices, like drinking and smoking cigarettes, to calm his nerves.
“Yes, Louis,” Lestat hummed. “Let’s start there. Tell me exactly how you came to know my Louis.” The vampire took back the shiny tray from the metal box and created a few more lines for the pair to indulge themselves with, offering Daniel the first hit.
Obviously Daniel doesn’t pass up the offer. He snorts another line, and starts to reveal their history untold in the novel. “We met at a gay bar not too far from some real estate Louis owned in San Francisco. After a few drinks, he lured me back to one of those places he had and spilled his guts. I mean, listen, I was totally willing, don’t get me wrong, but there was hardly any real journalism on my part. I was mostly terrified, kind of like I am… right now.”
The immortal laughs at Daniel’s clumsy confession of fear. “I’m not going to hurt you, though I could easily do that, and would rather enjoy it. But I indulge myself, I’m not here now to threaten you. I want to talk,” Lestat assured. Daniel remained silent, legs crossed, anxiously waiting for the vampire to go on. Only two more lines later, Lestat was ready to gossip with him. “Did you know Louis was with Armand at the time of your interview? You have to know that I can see that you’ve been spending some time with that one, ugh, the gremlin,” Lestat groaned and rolled his eyes. “Those two share quite an interesting past. They even had the audacity to flaunt their relationship in my face. Well, I haven’t seen either of them since, though I’m sure I will cause enough drama to grab their attention with my new aspirations. That book of yours spiked some interesting controversy within myself, and I couldn’t possibly tell you how many times I read the entire thing. It’s true. I hadn’t come across it until a month ago when those lovely few mortals you met enlightened me on its contents. Some fucking balls you have, I must say, to write about it all, and put it out there like that.” The vampire huffs out a short laugh and bumps another line, flamboyantly leaning back into the couch, so curious how Daniel will respond.
This was the journalist's wet dream, and his anxieties only added to the thrilling adrenaline pumping inside him. So many directions he could take this. The vampire left several little clues that Daniel could investigate, but the poor boy’s mind went right to Armand. “I– I thought that you and Armand had…” Daniel hesitated to continue, but stumbled on, “Louis said that the two of you… Why don’t you like Armand?” He eventually asked outright.
“I have a thousand reasons to hate Armand,” Lestat sighed, loathing the question. “Defenestration for one, and then for all the other reasons, chalk it up to Armand being a little cunt. I should ask you why you like spending time with Armand? God, how do you tolerate him? Surely you’re only enduring, or he’s got you so tightly wrapped around his scrawny fingers that you’re completely engulfed in his mind games. So, which is it?”
Uncomfortable with the sudden confrontation, Daniel snorts another line of cocaine. His pale purple eyes open wide and his pupils dilate. “Probably a good mix of both, honestly, Armand’s a lot," he admits, nervously laughing to himself, while rubbing his nose with the back of his hand, sniffling. “I don’t really want to talk about myself. What do you mean to do? What is the purpose of this band you’ve put together?”
Lestat soaked up the curiosity from Daniel, and let his ego fully inflate before answering. “I heard the dark romantic sounds from the mortal musicians, and the impulsive desire to join them—to sing and dance on a stage—was enough to entice me out of the ground. I was buried in deep self-loathing, literally. But when I came to know that Louis had made a book, I felt I had to write one myself. Not to be catty, but to tell my version of things, and to explain all that I couldn’t tell Louis at the time. I would like to draw out other immortals too, since you asked for a purpose, as if breaking the rules isn’t enough fun. I want to write my story, and be in the spotlight again. The book will expose everything, and the tour of the album will give them a place to gather together in their outrage. Sounds like a hell of a time to me!” Lestat exclaimed, and immediately empathized with Louis for blabbing to this unfortunately beautiful mortal. Conversing with this boy was starting to feel better than the crack.
“But your band! They’re mortals, and they still think this whole thing is fiction,” Daniel pleaded, only being able to access his human fears. “Aren’t they going to be in danger? Shouldn’t you tell them the whole truth?”
“Of course I told them the truth,” Lestat proclaimed. “You didn’t believe Louis when he told you at first. Why should they? All mortals have explanations for these things apparently, and I will protect my mortal band mates as best as I can. What’s odd to me is that you believe us now, and you aren’t crazy or dead.”
“I might as well be fucking nuts doing cocaine with a vampire! And I’m as good as dead if Armand ever finds out about this!” Daniel blurted out, lacking a filter from the drugs.
“Yes!” Lestat shouted, laughing with overwhelming joy—pupils dilated to the point that only a sliver of the blue moon was visible. “Exactly! You are in far more danger knowing the truth about us, rather than remaining ignorant with the rest of humanity. It certainly makes you more desirable to me that you know who I am.”
“What?” Daniel recoils, shocked by the vampire’s interest. “I thought you would hate me or want to kill me or something. I mean, Louis didn’t even tell you what we did. I at least figured you’d want revenge for something like that.”
“Oh, and I’m meant to get revenge on Louis by killing you?” Lestat taunted Daniel. “Although, there is something that could really get under his skin, and I’m always up for a good time.” Lestat licked his lower lip, then bit down on it while thinking, eyes starting at Daniel—the hunt was on.
Blushing, glancing down, Daniel shakes his head, “Lestat, please, I don’t think this is a good idea,” Daniel hinted under his breath, fidgeting with his fingers. His palms were getting sweaty, and he was apprehensive to look at Lestat, but he couldn’t help himself. Daniel wanted Lestat more than he ever wanted Armand, and he was too high from the drugs, and too aroused by the seductive powers of the immortal to be horrified by the revelation. Violet and indigo eyes connected at last. The tension in the room was boiling into a palpable steam.
“Ah, say my name again,” Lestat purred. “It sounds so good when you say it like that”
“Damn, are you trying to turn me on?” Daniel challenged, surprised by the blatantly tantalizing request.
Ready to make his next move, Lestat gets up from the couch he was on, and sits right next to Daniel. “Is it working?” The vampire requests an answer from the mortal, and even though he has read through his dirty mind, Lestat wants to hear the confession from the boy himself. He squeezes Daniel’s knee and rubs his thumb over the denim while he waits for a response.