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The Vampire Lestat wasn’t just a band. It was a god damn cult.
The crowd was insane. Gaggles of teenagers screamed and jumped around the stage while adults hid in the corner, touching each other in ways that would be concerning if anyone was actually paying attention. Smoke covered the stage as lights slowly moved over the stage, illuminating the members of the band before going back to follow the energetic frontman as he continued to drive the audience insane.
Daniel stood by the bar, leaning back as he nursed the beer in his hand, his eyes shifting over the members of the band. He had an interview with them tonight, his first big story for the magazine, and his one chance to prove he deserved his job. He took another drink and sighed. He never understood the whole…groupie thing. It was just a band. They were still just people.
The song ended, and the crowd screamed as they grabbed for Lestat, trying to touch him anywhere they could. Not that Lestat seemed to mind. The eccentric frontman seemed determined to be groped by as many people in the front row as possible.
Daniel rolled his eyes. This would be interesting.
After downing the rest of his drink, Daniel headed backstage. He flashed his pass to the bouncer and elbowed his way through a particularly aggressive group of teenage girls. Rolling his eyes, he continued to dodge the frantic staff as they tried to keep everyone away from the dressing rooms. Daniel adjusted the strap of his bag as he walked past a platinum blonde woman speaking quickly down her phone in Italian and resisted the urge to grimace as he narrowly avoided a puking guy hanging over a random trash can.
When he finally arrived at the dressing room door, he raised his hand to knock, but stopped when he heard something shatter against a nearby wall. Daniel jumped away as two people started screaming back and forth. Daniel pressed his ear to the door and listened as the two voices – one sharp and the other shrill – got louder and louder until the shrill voice screamed one more insult and another door slammed shut. Daniel frowned and knocked.
The door was pulled open roughly to reveal a tall man with a hard scowl. He had curly black hair styled away from his soft brown skin, a thin line of sweat across his forehead, and shining brown eyes lined with smudged black kohl liner. His lips were painted a dusky pink that may have matched the natural colour underneath. His broad shoulders were covered by a lacy black shirt that fit snug across his chest and tight leather pants that left little to the imagination.
It took Daniel a moment to connect the dots, without the flashing lights casting harsh shadows against the slim edges of his face, but he soon realised that he was looking at The Vampire Armand, bassist to the band. Little was known about Armand, and it seemed like he enjoyed telling false stories to the press. When he was given the assignment, Daniel had been warned not to bother with him. Daniel snuck a quick look over his shoulder, hoping for subtlety, but found that he was alone.
“Looking for someone?” Armand asked with a sneer.
Daniel flinched. He cleared his throat and stammered as he adjusted his bag strap again.
“I’m,” He paused and held his pass. “I’m Daniel Molloy with The Chronicle,”
“Oh,” Armand said as he leaned against the doorway, crossing his arms over his chest.
Daniel’s eyes flicked to his tense biceps, the muscles flexing tight against the fabric of his sheer shirt. Daniel tried not to focus on the sudden dryness in his throat.
“Uh, I’m meant to interview you – well, the band – I have an interview scheduled with you guys,” Daniel said. He rubbed the back of his neck and tried not to think about how stupid he sounded. “If you’re free, I mean,”
Armand sighed, shaking his head, before stepping aside and gesturing into the dirty dressing room behind him.
“Come in,” He said. “Let’s get this over with.”
Daniel stepped inside, shuffling past Armand and trying to avoid his piercing glare, and took in the darkly lit room. He took off his bag and placed it on one of the spare chairs. The dressing room was probably nice once upon a time, but it was clear that all the years of use and abuse had torn away any of the charm.
The old wallpaper was torn and discoloured, much like the carpet, which was covered in strange stains that Daniel hoped to never identify. The dressing tables were old, with chipped wood and crude carvings from years of use, and the mirrors were dirty and cracked. Daniel couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to get ready here, much less someone as clearly tightly wound as Armand.
“So, where’s the rest of the band?” Daniel asked as he opened his tablet and began to record. It wasn’t as good as having his laptop with him, but when working on location, it was easier to bring this along.
Armand shrugged.
“Off somewhere,” He said, waving his hand like he couldn’t be bothered to care. He nodded to the fire escape door. “If you’re looking for Lestat,” He said, rolling his eyes at the name. “He left already,”
Daniel frowned, about to ask what happened, when he saw a broken vase scattered across the floor. Water soaked the carpet underneath with flowers littered around.
“Did something happen?”
“Whoa, you’re a genius,” Armand said sarcastically, scoffing as he pretended to pick dust off his clothes. “The prick is having another of his moments,” He said, muttering more insults under his breath.
Daniel shifted nervously.
“Don’t worry, Mummy Dearest will deal with her darling drama queen soon enough,”
“Mummy Dearest?”
“The bitchy platinum blonde no doubt haunting the corridor?” He said, pointing over his shoulder. “Most probably has a mobile phone glued to her Botox-riddled face?”
Daniel thought about the woman in the hall, but didn’t say anything.
“Anyway, what do you want to know?” Armand said as he reached forward and took one of the beers from the small table between them. He leaned the top against the table edge and slapped his hand down, letting the cap fall to the floor. He held the drink out for a moment before Daniel realised he was offering it to him.
Daniel muttered a thanks and took the beer, sipping it as Armand opened his beer.
“Well, um, I wanted to meet with the whole band, to be honest,” Daniel admitted. “But I guess we could just start with you,”
“So sorry to disappoint,” Armand smirked.
“No, that’s not what I –,” Daniel stopped as Armand’s smirk grew wider. He shifted in his seat again and took another gulp of his beer. He put the bottle down and flipped open his notebook, clicking his pen. “You were one of the founding members, right?”
Armand took a drink.
“Yes,”
Daniel nodded.
“Okay, how did you get involved in the band?” It was a boring question, and one that he knew he had answered a hundred times, but Daniel knew it was better to start with the easier, boring stuff. He wasn’t going to get anywhere if he couldn’t build a rapport.
“Lestat begged me to help him out when he couldn’t find a bassist who could put up with his mood swings,” Armand said, picking at his nails as he spoke in a bored, tired tone. “I played with him for a while, thinking he would find a new bassist, and ten years later, here we are. Next question,”
Daniel frowned, flinching at the sharpness of his tone. He looked between the blank expression on Armand’s face and the blank paper in his lap. It was clear he didn’t want to be here, but Daniel needed this. He couldn’t screw this up.
“So, you and Lestat have always been close?” Daniel asked.
“Yes,” Armand said.
Daniel gritted his jaw but continued.
“Do you think you would have worked in music if you didn’t join the band?” Daniel asked.
“No,”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Daniel snapped. “I don’t care what kind of shitty mood you’re in, or why, but I’ve got a job to do here, so can you throw me a fucking bone?”
A heavy silence sat between them as Daniel’s eyes widened in surprise. He hadn’t meant to say that. He shouldn’t have said that. The first thing his editor had told him was not to piss off the members of the band. He was so screwed. He was so fired. What the hell was he meant to do if he got fired? Fuck, fuck –
Armand laughed.
His sombre expression brightened as his eyes lit up. It was musical and light, his shoulders shaking gently as his smile grew wide, and completely unexpected. He finished with a small snort as he raised his hand to his face, trying to hide his smile.
Daniel’s cheeks burned red as he smiled back nervously. He ran his hands over his thighs and bit his lip.
“Sorry,” He said. “I just – Sorry,”
Armand shook his head.
“You’re funny,” He said. He took another drink of his beer before putting the bottle down on the table. “What do you want to know?” He asked as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
Daniel sighed. Maybe he wouldn’t screw this up.
Daniel clutched his stomach as he laughed, slipping down in his seat, while Armand finished telling him the story of their first concert and how Lestat had accidentally incited a riot.
“We still don’t know how it happened,” Armand said between his own breathless laughter. “One minute he was just talking to these shitty high school kids, and the next they had the principal barricaded in their own office,”
Daniel let out another loud burst of laughter, slapping his hand over his mouth to stifle the sound.
“So,” Daniel chuckled again. “So, you’ve always had to, what, keep him under wraps?”
Armand snorted again and took another drink. They had gone through a lot of beers already and had moved on to the harder stuff. He downed a mini tequila and tossed the ridiculously sized bottle back onto the table.
“No,” He said, smirking. “Sometimes I like to egg him on, you know? Get him into trouble whenever I can,”
“But why would you do that if you have to deal with the aftermath?” Daniel asked, shaking his head.
“Because touring can be very boring,” Armand said smugly. “And Lestat is very easily manipulated,” He fought against twitching muscles in his cheeks before another wide grin broke across his face.
Daniel smiled back, his eyes flickering over Armand’s face, and admired how sweet he looked when he relaxed.
“Okay, so you accidentally join a band with a guy you kinda, maybe, sorta hate,” Daniel said. “And when you aren’t reaping the benefits of your rockstar lifestyle, you play puppet master to said guy you kinda, maybe, sorta hate,”
“Why would you say that?” Armand asked as he leaned back in the chair, throwing his arm over the back as he tilted his head to the side, his eyes roaming over Daniel’s body in a way that made him feel strange.
“Say what?” Daniel asked as he shifted in his seat.
“That I hate Lestat?” He said.
Daniel thought back to the argument. The screaming voices, the shattering glass, the slamming door. Armand’s eyes had still been burning when he opened the door. Hell, Daniel half expected Armand to pick a fight with him. He looked over Armand’s shoulder and nodded at the broken vase on the ground, waiting for him to look at it, too, before speaking again.
“Doesn’t exactly seem like a job well done message.”
“Oh, those,” Armand mumbled, chewing on the inside of his cheek as his shoulders slumped forward sadly. The sight of it alone made Daniel regret bringing it up. He didn’t want Armand to look like this, all sullen and miserable. He wanted to go back to the laughter, and the drinking, and the strange sensation Armand’s eyes left over his body when they moved over his body, almost examining him with their strong gaze.
Armand sighed and stood again, crossing the room carefully and kneeling to pick up a small white rectangle from the mess of flowers and glass. He shook the card slightly, trying to flick away any residual mess left behind, before tossing the card in Daniel’s direction, sitting back down once he caught it.
Congratulations on another no doubt wonderful show, Nicky x
“Who’s Nicky?” Daniel asked.
Armand groaned and looked between Daniel and the tablet that was still recording on the small table between them. It was clear what he wanted, and Daniel knew better than to give up on what could be a juicy detail for the story. But when Armand’s eyes looked back at him, a small sadness lingering in them, all Daniel could do was lean forward and stop the recording.
“Off the record,” He promised.
Armand nodded and pointed at the card in Daniel’s hand.
“Nicky is the bastard I’ve been hearing about for years,” He said. “He and Lestat met at college and decided that ruining my life was the best course of action. Every few years, they try and make it work again, only for it to blow up in everyone’s face. Including mine,”
Daniel nodded.
“Apparently, they’ve been talking for a couple of weeks now,” Armand said. “He didn’t tell me, and when I saw the flowers, I freaked out. Called him stupid and told him not to come to me when it all went to hell again,”
“And he left,” Daniel finished.
Armand nodded and took another bottle of tequila from the table.
“So, no, I don’t hate Lestat,” He said as he opened the bottle, drinking it in a single gulp. “He’s just the worst person I’ve met in my entire life,”
“Other than Nicky,” Daniel said.
“Other than Nicky.”
Daniel doesn’t expect Armand to offer him a ride home. He doesn’t expect him to walk him to the limo and hold the door open for him, ignoring the screaming fans begging for his attention. He doesn’t expect him to ask the driver for some privacy. And he definitely doesn’t expect Armand to lean over and kiss him.
His lips were soft, unreasonably soft, with the slight taste of alcohol lingering. He kissed him slowly, parting his lips ever so slightly, before slipping the tip of his tongue into Daniel’s mouth. His hand is large and strong as it comes to cup the back of Daniel’s neck, his fingers tangling into the curls at the base of his neck, until Daniel moans, melting into Armand’s warm body.
They part when the desire to breathe becomes too much to ignore. Daniel sees the lipstick smeared over Armand’s lips and just knows that his own lips are stained with whatever makeup Armand is wearing.
Armand smiled and reached up with his other hand, swiping his thumb over Daniel’s lips.
“Sorry,” He said, his eyes still fixed on Daniel’s lips. He leaned forward for another kiss until Daniel hesitated. “What’s wrong?”
“I just,” Daniel cleared his throat. “What’s happening here?”
Armand continued to play with his curls, running his other hand over Daniel’s thigh as he tilted his head to kiss the side of Daniel’s neck.
“I’m hoping,” Armand paused to kiss the sensitive skin under Daniel’s jaw. “That you’ll come back to my hotel with me,” He mouthed along Daniel’s jaw. “And let me fuck you,”
Daniel shivered. A heat built in his stomach as his hands started to tremble. His eyes fluttered closed as Armand continued to softly kiss over the skin of his neck and jaw, nibbling and sucking on random spots as Daniel continued to melt under his touch.
He knew what he should do. Daniel should have told him that he couldn’t, should have lied and said he wasn’t interested, but then Armand scraped his teeth down his throat, and all Daniel could do was moan.
Armand began to massage Daniel’s inner thigh, his strong hands squeezing and rubbing over Daniel’s inseam. He smirked as he inched his hand higher up Daniel’s leg, sucking the spot over his Adam’s apple, before cupping Daniel through his jeans and squeezing.
“So?” Armand whispered as he looked up at Daniel from under his thick eyelashes. His lips were full and red, his cheeks flushed, and his eyes burning as he looked at Daniel, waiting.
Daniel shuddered under his burning gaze. His hand trembled as he raised it slowly, cupping Armand’s face in the palm of his hand, and pulling him closer. Daniel hesitated for a second longer, thinking about the story he had to write, about the questions his boss would have, about the cameras and phones flashing as pictures of them leaving together were taken. He also thought about how something like this would never happen again. He could barely believe it was happening in the first place.
Daniel pulled him closer and kissed him deeply, sloppily, as their tongues tangled and moved over each other’s. He could feel the smug smile on Armand’s face, but he didn’t care; all he cared about was the weight of Armand’s hand pressing against his cock, rolling the heel of his hand around the head of Daniel’s hardening penis.
“Fuck, you are so hot,” Armand panted against Daniel’s mouth as he shrugged out of his jacket, tossing it on the floor of the limo. He grabs Daniel’s thighs, pulling one up so his foot rests on the cushioned seats, and spreading the other leg so he can easily slide between them. He kissed Daniel again, his nose bumping against Daniel’s.
They laugh into their next kiss, and Daniel feels more relaxed than before. He wrapped his arms around Armand’s shoulders and pulled him closer, kissing the corner of his mouth and over his cheek, catching his earlobe between his teeth as Armand rolled his hips down, pressing his hardening dick against Daniel’s.
Daniel runs one of his hands down Armand’s back, stopping to squeeze his arse as he mouths over Armand’s neck. He leaned forward, helping Armand to push his jacket down, and laughed as the limo thumped over a speedbump.
“Maybe we should,” He stopped as Armand kissed him again. “Wait until we aren’t moving,”
Armand pouted.
“Fine, but your hand stays on my ass, or else.”
Daniel’s head was buzzing, his throat was dry, and even the idea of opening his eyes felt like a Herculean task. He knew he had to move at some point, but he was just so comfortable. The pillows were soft, and the duvet was just light enough not to be suffocating, and the weight of Armand’s body pressed against his back was so nice. He could have stayed here forever, and maybe he would have, if not for the shrill outburst that forced him awake.
“Putain de merde!”
Daniel jumped, his eyes wide, and fumbled out of Armand’s arms. Standing at the foot of the bed, dressed in satin, spotted pyjamas and fluffy slippers, was The Vampire Lestat, frontman and sex symbol. Even in that nightwear…
Standing to his right was the platinum blonde from the concert, mobile phone still in hand and lips pursed in obvious disapproval.
Daniel’s head spun as he looked between the matching incredulous expressions staring him down, while the man beside him grumbled against the pillow, rolling over with a groan as he stretched his arms over his head.
“Good morning, Cruella,” He said, smirking as he sat up and looked the woman in the eye, his obvious glee only growing as she rolled her eyes. Armand looked at Lestat, raising his eyebrow as he looked Lestat up and down. “Pongo,” He said after a moment.
Lestat gasped.
“Mama! The Gremlin is calling me a Dalmatian again!” He exclaimed.
“Darling, I did tell you not to bring those on tour,” The woman said. She sighed as she turned back to Daniel, raising her brow as she looked him up and down, her gaze judgmental and cold. “Who are you?”
Armand threw his arm over Daniel’s shoulder, pulling him close.
“This is Daniel,” He said. “The interviewer from last night. Don’t worry, mon ami, I told him all about you,”
Lestat growled under his breath.
“Mother!”
Rolling her eyes again, the woman stepped forward, a business card suddenly appearing in her hand. She handed it to Daniel, who took it slowly, checking with Armand that it was safe.
Gabrielle di Lioncourt
Manager
“Wait,” Daniel said, looking between the two of them. “You two are actually related,”
“Don’t ask,” Armand whispered. He left a soft kiss on Daniel’s neck, running his hand across his back.
“It would appear that my son missed his appointment with you last night,” Gabrielle said. “Although you clearly had no problem filling your evening, my son is now available for his interview. Put on your clothes and be ready in two minutes,” She said. “Les, mon chou, wait for the man with abysmal taste in the dining room. Armand, keep your hands to yourself, for goodness' sake.”