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Mr. Schoenheit. My name is Ace Trappola, and this here is Deuce Spade. We’re going to be your bodyguards from here on out.
That was what Vil had been told a month ago when he met his two bodyguards, and so far he had felt rather satisfied with the work. He had felt safe with the pair, even if they worked separately. Ace worked the day shift and Deuce, on the other hand, worked the night shift.
Given Vil’s current shooting schedule, which consisted of late night shoots and parties, the actor’s sleep schedule was currently “flipped” based on normal standards. Ace watched over his apartment while he slept, and Deuce was more often than not his companion.
Over the days and weeks, he had slowly grown to know Deuce. In the quiet moments, driving between venues or relaxing in Vil’s apartment, the two talked.
Deuce still had his secrets, but the actor learned so much. Despite his young age, he had been working as a bodyguard for a few years. He had signed up for the police academy when he graduated from high school, and something personal happened which caused him to drop out. After that he started working private security. He quickly gained rank from nightclub bouncer to concert security, and now he was working as a private bodyguard for the stars.
These conversations always made Vil feel genuine happiness. They just made Vil feel… Human, being able to talk to his bodyguard like this. They were friends. Deuce wasn’t some sycophant or someone who judged him for his fame. Deuce was just… A person who just happened to be paid to protect him and legally carry a firearm.
And Deuce definitely wasn’t a stalker, unlike…
“Ugh… That blonde creep is at it again…” Vil muttered as he tossed the letter over his shoulder. He could hear it clatter onto the kitchen counter, slide, and land on the floor on the other side. Deuce strode over to the envelope on the floor and picked it up.
“We should probably keep it.” Deuce suggested. “Evidence like this can be used to get a restraining order.”
“I know… It’s just… So tiring…” Vil said as he sat down on the couch, for a moment dropping all of his grace to relax. “...Why can’t the people in love with me be more like you, Deuce?” He frowned over to his bodyguard.
“I’m nothing special.” Deuce said as he walked across the room to a small office area and tucked the letter in a file cabinet. “I’m just a guy with a high school diploma and crappy sleep schedule.”
“You’re a kind, protective man who I actually feel safe around…” Vil said. “Even at the charity events I help with, there’s a risk that someone I’m helping is just another stalker or crazed fan… You’re the closest thing to someone who knows the real me…”
“You’re lucky I’m not in love with you.” Deuce said with a laugh as he walked back to the kitchen. “Nobody wants to hear the phrase ‘I wish I could find someone who is literally just like you.’ I’m not really into dating though, so… You’re safe from that.” Deuce said.
“Oh? Ace, huh?” Vil guessed.
“What? No.” Deuce looked disgusted and shook his head. “Trappola likes girls anyway so I wouldn’t go after him.”
“No, not– I meant– Nevermind.” Vil chuckled and shook his head. “Anyways… I’m feeling a little thirsty…”
“Want me to get out the wine?” Deuce asked as he knelt down to the wine fridge and pulled out a bottle, not even waiting for the answer.
“Of course. You really are a dear, Deuce.” Vil turned and lounged on the couch. He watched from his angle as Deuce poured a single glass of wine and brought it over to him.
“You know… You really should make yourself a drink.” Vil said. “You never do when I ask you to make me one.”
“I can’t drink on the job.” Deuce said as he sat down next to Vil. “How do you expect me to protect you if I’m buzzed?”
“I know. I just wouldn’t mind if you trusted me enough to just be yourself a bit more. I can respect you not wanting to drink…” Vil sighed as he sipped at the wine. “But this is my chance to let my hair down. I have to at least pretend to be perfect outside… I’m glad I don’t have a shoot tonight…”
“What’s the plan this evening, then?” Deuce asked as he relaxed next to Vil. He may not have been drinking, but every but of his posture showed his comfort. The leaning back, the spread legs, the arm on the back of the couch, all of it was a sign that he was relaxing.
“I think I’ll order some dinner, take a brief nap until it arrives, and figure the night out from there…” Vil muttered into his wine glass. “It’s almost terrible, not having anything to do tonight. You get so used to running yourself ragged that you don’t know what to do with free time.”
“Alright, I’ll order it then.” Deuce pulled out his phone. “What are you thinking? Your usual Chinese place?”
“You never get food when we order.” Vil pouted at him. “You really need to learn to treat yourself… I’m even paying for dinner. You get what you want.”
“Your usual Chinese place it is.” Deuce said as he started dialing.
“You’re not even my PA…” Vil frowned at Deuce. “Stop being so nice and let me do something…”
“You do enough humanitarian stuff.” Deuce said as he walked out to Vil’s balcony. “You enjoy your wine, and I’ll get the food.”
Vil’s eyes opened at the sound of Deuce knocking on the bedroom door.
“Hey, Vil. The food just arrived. I’m headin’ down to the lobby to get it.” The bodyguard said.
“Mmm… Thank you. I’ll get ready to eat.” Vil muttered as he sat up. Deuce shut the door all the way closed, and Vil heard his footsteps go to the front door of the apartment and out into the hall. Vil climbed out of bed and got dressed in a simple set of pajamas and a robe, before he stepped out into the main open room of the apartment.
Vil walked over to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of sparkling water. Part of him was tempted to pour Deuce one as well, a small thank you to the bodyguard, but he would probably still deny it.
“So self reliant…” Vil muttered to himself in thought. “I wish he’d let me do… Something for him. Anything…”
Vil was taken out of his thoughts by the knocking on the door. Looks like Deuce forgot his key when he went to get the food.
“You really should be more responsible–” Vil said as he opened the door, only to stop when the figure on the other side wasn’t Deuce. Instead, was the tall, blonde, strangely hatted figure of his stalker.
Before Vil could slam the door, the blonde’s foot moved forward to jam it.
“Oh, mon cheri, please! We finally have time alone with each other! Please don’t make me leave.” The French accent was so… Alluring. Vil didn’t know why, but the fear seemed to melt away from him. He opened the door, and slowly the stalker pushed his way in. Vil didn’t fight it. Instead he locked eyes with Rook and let the stalker slowly guide him back through the apartment.
Vil’s back pressed against the kitchen counter, and Rook pressed against him.
“Bon… I’ve been waiting so long for this…” Rook brushed Vil’s hair behind his ear. Slowly Rook leaned as Vil shook with excitement. Rook leaned in towards Vil’s neck, opening his mouth–
And then suddenly Rook went stumbling away as Deuce shoved him off of Vil. Vil shook his head to clear it and looked at Deuce.
“I… W-What? My head feels…” Vil muttered, but Deuce didn’t even check on him.
“Get in the kitchen, grab a knife…” Deuce said to Vil as he approached Rook. Rook got back up from his stumble and turned to Deuce, and the two ran forward and gasped at each other, locking up in a brawl. As they tangled and grappled, each trying to overpower the other, Vil ran over to the kitchen and grabbed a large kitchen knife. He spun around to look at the fight, and he managed to catch a rough hit as Deuce threw Rook over the couch. The blonde stalker rolled with the hit and got back to his feet after he rolled over the coffee table as well.
As Deuce took a moment to clear his head and get ready to strike again, Rook did something the bodyguard didn’t expect: Rook drew a handgun.
Deuce stared in shock as the weapon was pointed at him, and Vil screamed out.
“Deuce! No!”
And then Deuce took three bullets straight to the chest. Deuce stumbled back… And stood tall as he looked at Rook.
“Ah… You’re just like me…” Rook said as he looked at Deuce. Vil looked between Deuce and Rook, trying to understand what just happened.
“I’m nothing like you…” Deuce said. He reached out his hand to his side, and his fingers grew out into long, violent claws before he dove across the couch. As one of his hands dug into Rook’s shoulder, the two fell onto the floor. Deuce reared his hands up and brought his claws down onto Rook, and Rook responded with his gun in Deuce’s stomach. Shots were fired, and Deuce seemed to ignore the attacks as he kept slashing across Rook’s chest.
And then Rook exploded in a cloud of ash, leaving only the clothes and gun on the floor. Deuce slowly climbed up from the pile and sat down on the couch, stomach covered in bullet holes that already looked like they were filling up. The claws on his hands transformed back into fingers, and everything seemed normal.
Vil slowly walked over to Deuce, knife nervously pointed at him.
“D-Deuce, what was…” Vil was too in shock to finish the sentence.
“The secret’s out…” Deuce said as he looked at Vil. “I-I need to go. I should go…”
“T-That doesn’t… I want answers!” Vil pointed the knife threateningly. “I-I just saw you with claws and–”
“N-No! I mean…” Deuce said as he got up, looking with tired, hungry eyes at Vil. “...I can’t… I-I drained a lot of blood doing this, and… I need to feed… I-If I lose control I… I might not stop. I just… Need to…” He stumbled past Vil, like a drunk trying to get to the door.
“What will you do?” Vil said. “Y-You’re a vampire, it sounds like! Then… Who are you…”
“I dunno… Some homeless guy… Just…” And then Deuce tripped to the floor, too weak to leave. Vil ran to his side and knelt down.
“Deuce… No… Get up… Can you even make it?” Vil asked.
“Get… Get away from me… I-I’m not… I’m not gonna hurt you…” Deuce weakly tried to shove Vil off, but Vil looked down at him.
“... I won’t let you lose control. And I won’t let you go after some random person who doesn’t know you....” Vil whispered. “I can help you…”
Vil took the knife in his hand and cut along the palm of his hand. Blood leaked out onto the palm and Vil held it next to Deuce's mouth..
“Let me do something for you, for once.” Vil whispered.
Deuce’s eyes flared, and he suddenly grabbed Vil’s wrist. He licked at the cut on his hand, and took a deep breath to keep calm.
With that first feeding done, Deuce looked up at Vil, and their eyes locked. Vil could still see the hunger in them, and he knew just what to do. He tugged at his robe and tilted his head, a sign of consent for what he knew would happen next.
With that, Deuce dove forward and bit into Vil’s neck.