A Fine Dose of Existential Crises // OxO // closed

_{((Oh wonderful))}

Menek was still asleep on the couch. He hadn’t even made it to his bed before passing out, since he had gotten up so… “early” for work the day prior. He was generally a quiet sleeper, all curled up while hugging one of the couch cushions and looking about as peaceful as a summer afternoon. He twitched at the sound of Evelyn up in the kitchen but stayed sleeping for the most part— pale skin looking even paler in the dim light from the window. It was yet again another rainy day, the sounds of the drops hitting the roof seemingly very relaxing and therapeutic.

_{(Honestly Olalla is just here to showcase how absolutely dull this boy is— We all know he loves Ev too but he can’t say because all vampy complication time)}

Menek sputtered awake, black eyes flickering open as he gazed up toward Evelyn. His mouth twitched into a dopey smile as he reached out his hand.
“Heeey,” he said drowsily. “Alright, I’m up, I’m up.”
He grabbed her hand, squeezed it, and let go to push himself up from the couch. He kept the pillow tight in his other hand before realizing it, and setting it back down.
“D’you mind waking me back up at… like… five tonight?” he asked quietly. “I know that’s early for me but I wanna come see your show.”

Menek stayed put after being plopped onto his bed, curling up with all the fluffy comforters. The bed frame had been constructed out of the same wood of his coffin just a few hundred years prior, so if he were to “die,” he could reconstruct in his apartment instead of underground in some grave somewhere.
His room was a dark, windowless hole he kept extremely neat, and looked nothing like what a vampire would like. He had flags from around the world pinned to his walls, and little trinkets from every era. It was filled with black-lights and string lights around the corners, alighting all of the little objects on his desk with a faint purple light.
Okay, maybe it was a bit vampirish, but it seemed more lively to him.
He mumbled into his pillows as Ev strode out, “Love ya— Be safe— yadda yadda. See you when you get home.”

Menek was even more out of it by the time Ev got back, nearly falling out of his bed when she yelled.
“I’M UP, I’M UP,” he said, more startled than irritated. He blinked in the lights in his room, the black lights making him look as if he were glowing.
“Did’ya have fun? Who were you with?” he asked, out of sheer curiosity, as he poked his head through his door. He had lost his shirt sometime when he slept— no windows meant his room got exceedingly hot, especially with the heater on on this colder winter days. He let out a slight shiver, leaning up against his door frame as he grabbed a folded shirt from his nearby dresser.

Menek slipped into her room, sitting on the edge of her bed as he began fumbling with the edged of his shirt, trying to fold it from inside-out. He narrowed his eyes as he did so, single fang poking at his bottom lip as he concentrated.
“New tat, huh?” he asked, glancing up for a moment. “Of course I might be biased, but vampire fangs seems like a good go-to. And hey, maybe I’ll get one with you this time. And I won’t chicken out like last time, I promise.”
With a final exasperated attempt, he slipped his shirt on. It was thin-striped, navy blue and white, and made him look vaguely like a sailor but he still loved it. Torn— by his own device— jeans accompanied it, and a pair of quite colorful socks he had stolen from Ev the day before when he had done his own laundry.
Keke’s hair was a complete mess as well, to no surprise. It fell haphazardly into his own eyes, but it wasn’t anything that couldn’t be tamed by a few meticulous brushes of his hand. His eyes were still tired, but the bags under them had disappeared and he sure looked more composed than before.

Menek let out a soft laugh, kicking out his feet to look at the socks again. “Sorry— I had to do laundry and my feet were hella cold. Well.. I’m kind of always cold but you know what I mean.”
He lifted a hand up, fiddling with his hair and messing with a few strands.
“And I was gonna get a vintage victorian lantern on the side of my neck, when you were trying to convince me to get my hair cut. Might as well do it, this time. What do I have to loose? My hair grows back and my looks stay pretty much the same, so my tattoo will never fade.”
He straightened out his shirt, phone buzzing in his pocket but he paid it no mind. He kept his attention on Ev, smiling lightly as she looked for more jewelry.
He had on a braided leather bracelet of his own, extremely dark in contrast to his skin. He had gotten it about fifteen years prior, from a custom bracelet stand up in New York. It had lost it’s metal charm so long ago, but Keke didn’t care— the leather was still in good shape, as well as the latch.

_{(hell yea I don’t doubt it— sounds absolutely rad)}

Menek pursed his lips, squinting for a moment. “I… I’m pretty much as chubby as a walking popsicle stick, but alright. What about like… my shoulder?”
He paused briefly, glancing down to the floor. “Y’know, it doesn’t really matter. Unless it’s night, no one will see it anyway. I wear long clothes in summer.”
He gestured down to his shirt, tilting in his head. “This is the first short-sleeve thing I’ve worn in… about a couple months.”
Almost all of his clothes still fit him perfectly, considering Menek wasn’t the kind of person to really … grow a whole lot. So maybe that’s why he still had some clothes from the late 1800’s, with high-necked and long-sleeved shirts and jackets that were almost perfect for ren-fairs, but for literally nothing else.

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, reluctant to slip off his shirt after he had so painstakingly untangled it from itself. He did so anyway, catching his pale reflection in the mirror for a moment before slipping back into his own room. He passed the window in the hall for a moment, a bright red mark grazing across his skin as the sun seared him instantly. He didn’t mind much, though, considering it had happened too many times to count, and it was through a pane of glass. With the rain easing up and the cloud cover dissipating, the afternoon sun shone with little hinderance.
But the mark disappeared as fast as it had come, and Menek didn’t bother shutting the door as he slipped on another shirt. He let his hair back down, brushing it aside absently as he rummaged for another shirt. He finally settled on a Led Zeppelin shirt, multicolored blue, black, yellow, and red tyedye with the album cover of Presence. Of course, he had always been a bigger fan of Houses of the Holy, but the Presence debut was the only concert of theirs he had actually been too.

Menek walked out of his room, slipping on a pair of navy blue high-tops Ev had forced him into buying once. He hadn’t really liked them before, but they grew on him too much to not wear.
He leaned against the doorframe once more, squinting at her question.
“I mean, I hate your motorbike, but it also makes me feel really cool,” he muttered, like the concept completely disgusted him. “Plus, my car’s gotta go in for service. The brakes are giving me trouble. That’s why I had to take a taxi to work yesterday. So, I guess it’s the motorbike.”

“Oh—,” he said, voice cut short when he brought a sleeve to his cheek. “Forgot about that.”
Menek grabbed another one of his jackets, narrowing his eyes with a smile as he watched Ev yank his other. He slipped his hands in one of the pockets, looked around for his phone, noticed it was still on the kitchen table and shrugged. Not like he’d be needing it tonight, considering he was pretty preoccupied with Ev’s show.
With swift movements he pulled on his helmet, patting the side of it with his hand and making sure it was secured.
“Also, I don’t believe you, but I’ll try to trust you,” he said with a light laugh, following her down the steps. “I’ll just hold on super tight, so I know if I fall off, you’re coming with me. Deal?”

“Nah, I’ll be fine,” Menek replied, taking a pair of black gloves from his pocket. He was wearing long clothing for the most part, and the rips in his jeans were easy enough to be covered. If not, scars were scars, and he didn’t really care. He had gone through rays of sun too many times to count, so he was sued to the horrid burn by now.
Plus, the visor on his helmet shaded his face enough to where he’d be fine until he walked into the building of Ev’s gig.
So he slinked down the rest of the steps, awkwardly straddling the bike before picking up his feet and latching his arms around Ev’s waist. He seemed relatively relaxed, but that was bound to change.

Menek actually stayed surprisingly relaxed throughout the ride, gritting his teeth in moments but making sure to breathe without fogging up his visor. When they arrived, he slipped off his helmet before covering the majority of his skin with his gloved hand, following Evelyn inside the bar.
“Ooooh, you guys got a cool place here,” he said, slipping onto a stool beside her. “Have you played here before?”
His attention quickly flitted over to the bartender, and he murmured an order for some kind of hard scotch. Having a heightened metabolism to ingest blood sure had its perks, but being able to get drunk was not one of them. Of course, with like six full glasses, he could be wasted. It all depended upon what he had eaten the day (or night) prior.

“Don’t worry, don’t worry,” Menek replied, taking his glass gently from the bartender. He nodded in thanks, and it didn’t take long for him to strike up a conversation with the man.
So while Ev set up, Menek traded stories with the bartender. His name was Nick— short for something, Keke expected— and it was no doubt, if Ev had played here before, she knew him. He was generally nice, and just two or three years older than Ev.
It wasn’t long before the two got on the subject of music, Menek pausing for a moment when Nick began helping another customer. When the bartender returned, Keke offered a timid smile.
“So, excited to hear your girl play tonight?” Nick asked, tossing a small rag over his shoulder.
Menek really didn’t think much of the phrase, nodding joyously. “Absolutely. Of course, I hear her practice sometimes, but…”— he turned, looking to where she was setting up— “it’ll be cool to watch her play with an audience.”

Menek was never the kind of vampire to drink someone else’s blood— hell, even a willing individual, however odd they may be— but he knew other vampires that did. One’s that were insane, eyes turned a permanent shade of red with skin lighter than his own, hair a pitch black. They looked more like in traditional lore, whereas Menek could be seen as a completely normal person.
Yet when he saw the whole exchange with Evelyn and this mysterious man, his eyes flicked that familiar light shade of red and he was off the stool, at the edge of the crowd, before watching as Ev took charge and pinned him to the ground. He could feel the adrenaline in his veins— and it wasn’t just because of the broken glass or anything. It was that anger. That weird protectiveness, even though he knew for a fact Ev could beat up any stranger walking her way.
So he just sort of stood there, eyes fading back to their original color as his heartbeat dissipated yet again. In an odd attempt to be civil, he shot Ev an awkward thumbs-up, like he was proud of her almost beating up some random dude. In which, he really was.

_{(shOoT I love that song— Way’s songs are great)}

Menek’s eyes widened slightly, and he stood up from leaning on the bar slowly. He met her gaze, tilting his head in confusion as he suddenly broke his attention away, looking to the rest of the crowd to find the man in question.
Surely, it couldn’t be Menek. That would be insane. That would be truly, truly insane.
But her words cut deeper into his skin that he thought they would. Made his stilled heart beat a little faster, and made him either wonderfully happy or seriously heartbroken.
Because, even though he knew for a fact it couldn’t possibly be him, Ev’s eyes weren't anywhere else. It was either some serious trick she was playing on him that he’d have to ridicule her about later and cry into his pillow, or they would have a long, drawn-out conversation about the contradictions.
Or, maybe, just maybe, he could be just a little selfish for once. After all, the lyrics just reinforced everything he ever wanted.
So he sang aloud the last verse along with the crowd, smiling his half-ecstatic, half-heartbroken smile.