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I am sitting cross-legged in the middle of a plain grey room with grey flooring and walls. The cameraperson Sonja, has just mic’d me up and is now adjusting the microphone mounted on a boom pole above my head. For once, I’m glad that I actually listened to Christine, and dressed for the occasion. “No tight pants,” she said earlier this evening, “you wanna be comfortable.” My leather jacket and purple shades were abandoned as soon as I walked into this too warm of a room. Now in baggy jeans and a ribbed tank top I can keep my arms airy and myself from overheating. Especially now that they have turned on all the softboxes, I can feel the light hum on my skin.
The interviewer/producer Axl is currently crouching next to me and speed-running through the bullet points of the interview, “-will read the questions out to you, and adlib some. Then, in the final edit, we can-”
I only half listen to them because somewhere in the building, a pack of doglings are yapping incessantly, their carer busy plying them with water and treats before they are brought in here. I for one, cannot wait to see the little marvels.
“-as if you’re a real vampire, so if you can answer in character that would be great.” Axl finishes.
Tami from Hair and Make-up approaches. I shake my mane to her and say politely that I have no use for her kit or skills. She chews her gum and stares at Axl who promptly bounds to the monitor and along with Sonja, frowns at the framed close-up of my face and confirms what I already know. “He's right. He looks great.” Tami backs away, leaving me alone on the floor.
The colored light stands get recalibrated, throwing myriad of colors over me until they all nod in agreement. “See, that complexion and those arms really goes great with rose pink. Yeah, let’s just roll with it.”
I don’t have to invade in their minds too much to know that they have been at this all day; several lots of actors and singers, even a whole K-pop group, plus their managers and entourage... They know that they are just one stop out of many that the stars call in on when out promoting their upcoming projects; no one is under the illusion that they’re making ground-breaking documentary here. Still, they work their little bottoms off and by 6.30 PM on Friday, just as the weekend drinks is within reach, a last-minute job got added by the higher ups and I show up... Oh well, the overtime pay is great of course, but their life zest has been wrung dry, and they are not, what’s the word for it, feeling me. How can one blame them, these dear sweet mortals.
I also see that none of them have the faintest idea of who I am and what I'm selling to the masses. Having no time to prepare for me, Axl will ask a set of questions that have been pre-approved by Christine. Good. I’d rather not have book-enthusiasts who have acquainted themselves to Molloy’s criss de publication to ask me questions about it.
What did Louis say? “No one reads these days. It’ll be gone in a minute” …Might he be right after all?
One can dream.
Christine, my (life) manager extraordinaire, has been busier than a one-armed wallpaper hanger this past week trying to build a rock band from the ground up, so tonight instead of babysitting me, she’s actually staying behind to interview potentials to people her army. At the top of that list is an urgently needed tour manager for our upcoming tour. I told her to spare no expense. I want this album and tour to be a triumph.
All eyes and ears, alive or dead, must be on me.
My band-mates are rehearsing the songs in my new LA house, so that next week we can jump into the studio and start recording. Tonight, they have collectively decided that they prefer it if I wasn’t there huffing indignantly in the corner while they’re trying to learn the songs. So, Christine gave me a list and told me to make myself useful. “As the frontman of The Vampire Lestat, take one for the team and start the promotion tonight. We’ll ease you into it with an easy one— puppies interview!”
So here I am, surrounded by tired individuals on a random Friday night; we're all just trying to do our jobs... But, puppies? Honestly, it’s so surprising to me that Christine who runs everything like a military operation could come up with such fun and whimsical idea.
Through the skylight, I can see the purple dusk that I arrived with has been replaced by an inky night; a bright full moon is just peeking out now. First weekend in November, the nip in breeze is making sure you know that winter will be here soon. I consider the things that I have to attend to later and feel just as antsy as these guys to get this over and done with. And judging from the approaching whines and barks, so are the puppies. Well, I will smooth every bump so that we can all get out of here sooner than later.
“Lestat? Let’s start with your introduction,” Axl prompts.
I heed their words by looking into camera A, “I am the Vampire Lestat, the frontman of a rock band, also called The Vampire Lestat. Today, I’m here at BuzzFeed to answer some questions and play with puppies.”
Just as I utter the word, as if a heavenly gate opens up, five Labrador puppies hurl into the floor where I’m sitting, tails wagging nine to the dozens, barking and yelping with excitement. Naturally, I’ve been following every creaky noise that their wheeled enclosure made on the way here through multiple hallways and doors, so I’ve had time to fortify myself against the onslaught of their charm. Still, the combo of their beauty and innocence bowls me over as they run a circle around me. I cannot remember the last time I was so close to a dog, let alone this many!
Their carer Justine, whispers that her charges are overstimulated and in need of a good rest, so if we can just speed this along, it’d be great… Well, lucky for Justine, I actually do know a trick or two about soothing the minds of worldly creatures such as these.
“So Lestat, you claim to be a real vampire. Quickly answer me this then. Where and what year were you born? How old are you?”
I drop my voice a notch lower, radiating nothing but tranquility as I reply. “I was born in Auvergne, France, in the beginning of winter 1760. I am 265 years old.” Today, 265 years old today. I add quietly to myself as the puppies gingerly sniff my backside and legs. So I stay still and let them investigate as long as they like before I offer my hands to them.
“They don’t seem to be scared of you. What about the old belief that animals can sense and will recoil from supernatural beings?”
They are now licking my palms. Not a shred of fear in these round, trusting eyes. I may start weeping if I’m not careful. “Supernatural does not equate malevolence. Animals’ hearts are too pure. They will never conflate the two.”
As if to prove my point, they now start to clamber upon me. Their claws dig into the rips of my jeans and might even tear holes into my tank top. Tails slap my cheeks and I feel their wet noses on my bare arms. Mon Dieu, I love them so.
“So, you are a nice vampire then. Aren’t these guys usually food for nice vampires like you?”
“All vampires, nice or not-so-nice, cannot get enough nutrition we need from dogs... unless if you’re a fictional vampire from a certain subset of pop-culture.” A particularly sprightly brown one has stood up on his hind legs and lick my chin, and in the process, pull clumps of my hair into his mouth. I bend down to free his maw off my newly-dyed blue hair strands which are now wet with slobber… “You’re fortunate to not have met Louis de Pointe du Lac in the beginning of last century,” I told him via Mind Gift and he barks indignantly at me.
“What is your favorite color? And why?”
“Emerald green. It’s the most beautiful shade of eye colors anyone can have.” This gold one is chewing on the lace of my boot. And this black one is about to empty her bladder on me, I hold her away just in time. Justine comes to clean the floor and apologizes profusely. I assure her that it doesn’t bother me in the least.
“Would you ever consider your own clothing line? Something you used to wear, you know, back in the 17th century?” Axl chuckles.
“18th not 17th. Corsets, waistcoats, wigs and the likes? Sure, if there’s an interest. But I also have fondness for the 1910s, and how can you forget how beautiful the 1970s fashion was.”
They nod but I can see that they do not share the same passion for the eras I mentioned.
I’m sitting spread-eagle, puppies walking around and all over me. This has got to be one of the best days of my entire immortal life! It's difficult to find motivation to answer subsequent questions about favorite music, movies or books, but I try nevertheless, as jovial as possible, for the next five minutes or so.
I hear the cameras pan out to take wide shots and zooming back in for close-ups. Sonja seems quite pleased with everything so far. And why wouldn't she... These pooches instantly give everything a boost just by existing.
“What was your first job and what did it teach you?”
“I was an actor in a theater troupe traveling around small villages in Southern France. 16 years old when I first learned the taste of freedom.”
Axl is rightly tickled by that, “Do you mean the taste of freedom of expression through art? Or literal freedom because you’ve been locked up in a medieval castle, something like that?”
“Something like that.” I say lightly while separating two puppies that have been sniping at each other. I lift them up to eye-level, “Behave, babies. Your kins are trying to sleep.” They lick my nose and I laugh... We really don’t deserve dogs.
“If you could give your younger self a piece of advice, what would it be?”
“Hmm… Don’t go to the basement and play that violin, Lestat.” Only one other being on the face of this earth will understand that reference and he is not here. Might he blow in to burn me into cinder just as I finish talking to Molloy in a few weeks? Might the one I’ve lost centuries ago come find me beforehand? Have I put Louis in less or greater danger?
Only one way to find out.
“Part of me wants to ask about the basement! But moving on… What would a perfect day look like to you, if you weren’t working?”
I lay on the floor, prop myself on one elbow and let the puppies do what they want to me. They have mellowed quite a bit and are loving the gentle scratches behind their ears. One is yawning. One is gnawing her itchy teeth at the silver bracelet that Louis gave me. One crawls to my neck to sleep and I get a whiff of his puppy breath every time he grunts and kicks. Sweet, sweet wingless angels.
“This is perfect actually... But if I can’t be here, then perhaps a long walk that ends with a long chat on a bench somewhere, preferably with a view.”
“Wow, that doesn’t sound very rock and roll.”
“Can’t always be the living legend.”
“What would you chat about?”
“Anything and everything under the moon light. Maybe a book that he’s just finished reading. Maybe the history of the town we’re in. I’m mostly content to just listen to him for hours.” The puppies are asleep now or close to. Behind Sonja, Justine gives me a relieved thumbs-up. I beam at her.
Sitting up slowly so to not wake the puppies, I cradle two with my arms. In my lap lays a brown one, while the other two are on their backs, stretched along the length of my legs. Their warmth seeping through my clothes, under my skin. Something that resembles peace settles into the divides of my soul and stays there.
Why can’t we all just be dogs? Truly, it would fix so many of my problems.
“If someone wronged you, are you the type to forgive immediately or do you hold grudges forever?”
I look up to see Axl’s reading out of their phone screen, the questions reflected as blue-blocks on their thick glasses. “I’ve done many grievous mistakes in the past myself, and was given forgiveness over and over again. Most times, I’m not worthy of… I like to think that I’m generous enough to extend the same courtesy to others.”
“Even if that someone betrayed your trust?”
“Mmm, there are always two sides of the stories. I shall try to understand.”
“What kind of apology would make you go, ‘Okay, apology accepted’?”
I absently scratch the ear of a snoring black puppy. “I don’t mind as long as it comes from the heart.”
“Would you accept a bouquet of flowers? Jewelry?”
“... Yes, why not.”
“Personalized fragrance? Hendrix’s 1968 Stratocaster?”
That’s so oddly specific? I frown, “Did Christine really approve these questions?”
“What about a special painting for the empty wall in your guest room?”
I can’t help but gasp, not too loudly of course, but the puppies have sensed my surprise and are jolted awake. I pat them back to sleep while thinking for a spell before replying, “These gifts sound so extravagant. The person offering them must be feeling extremely guilty about something.”
Axl lifts their finger up and reads incoming messages, “Guilt so vast, regret so deep because he didn’t get a chance to tell you in person during the visit.”
“What visit?”
“The one he planned to surprise you with this weekend. Instead, you got sprung with unpleasant news a week early and for that, he wants to apologize face to face.”
Axl, Sonja, Tami, even Justine are all staring at me now. I raise my eyebrows, feigning nonchalance, “How did Louis get you to go along with this?”
“I'm guessing the boss-man upstairs owes him a favor.” Axl signals to Sonja to stop shooting, “We’ll edit this part out later. But Lestat, in case you didn’t get it, I think this Louis is very eager to talk to you.”
Sonja is switching off half a dozen buttons on the control panel, “D-uh! All his messages scream ‘Forgive me!’ in capital. What did he do to you?” Her face suddenly turns serious, “Wait, do you want to see him? Because if you don’t, we’ll gladly tell him to fuck off, won’t we, girls?”
They nod in unison. My heart swells with fondness to them. I imagine these soft, crushable petals of Gen-Zers fending Louis off on my behalf. Well, he might just eat them, so no, it won’t do! “I don’t mind if I see him... or not.”
A lie, of course. The thought of Louis frantically typing messages to Axl in desperate plea to talk to me is making me heady. All kinds of tingling feelings coursing through my body, I want to rush outside and find the drum that is his heart right now.
“Blocking him is not the answer, love.” Justine shakes her head as she takes away two puppies and heads over to the kennel.
Sonja detaches the lav mic from my tank top, “Yes, my dude. You gotta end things properly.” She sees my face and giggles, “Or not. Get back together with him whatever, but you gotta talk it out.”
I gather three puppies in my arms and place them still asleep inside the kennel, and cover them with the blanket. Justine puts a small hand on my arm, “He’s the one whom you take long walks with, right? You clearly love him. I hope it works out for ya’.”
I watch as she wheels out the delightful snoring bundles. Despite their exit, the peace they left inside me lingers. I feel quite buoyant and happy. Picking up my purple shades and jacket, I say, “Sorry about the interview. I can come back for a reshoot next week.”
Axl and Sonja wave me over and we huddle together to browse the rushes. “Don’t worry. I think we got enough footage. We’ll send you the final edit to approve before uploading.”
A shiver runs down my spine when finally, finally I hear the sound that I’ve been waiting for. So I straighten up and shake their hands and thank them for having me.
Tami who has been packing up the room is hovering by the window and she suddenly whistles. “Hey, is your Louis very handsome, with finger coiled hair and an immaculate fashion sense?”
I try to not look smug but I can’t help it, “Maybe.”
Sonja flies to the window to have a look too, “Does he drive a black SUV?”
“No, but his driver does.”
Axl oohs and ahs, “Oh my God… He’s got a massive bouquet of flowers and a wrapped painting for your guest room!… And I think that's an electric guitar with a big card that says ‘Happy Birthday’… Dude, it's your birthday???”
My smile spreads wider as I shrug on my leather jacket, “Yes.”
“How old are you, Lestat?”
“I told you already.”
“265???” They scream the answer and we all fall down laughing at the ‘joke’. Truly, I adore them!
“I’ll see you around, kids. Thanks for a good time.”
I zap myself downstairs and when I see Louis in all his glory— devastating in slim-fitting blue suit, a matching silver bracelet (like mine!) on his wrist —I slow down to a walking pace. The excitement in my guts is turning into something akin to pain that it's hard to breathe... I can't tell the difference between that and pleasure.
But to feel this much at my age, and after everything that has happened between us, is rather humiliating, isn’t it?
Louis’ green eyes soften when they find me. The palest shade of pink roses are shoved into my arms, “Happy birthday, Lestat.” His heart races just as fast as mine as he gives me a once over. “You look gorgeous, mon cher.”
Behind him are the gift pile, each tastefully wrapped in delicate papers. All this effort and all the words... For Louis, they might as well be the love declaration of the century.
Just for tonight, I will pretend that it is; that the breadth of Louis’ love for me is just as great as mine.
So why not live in the now, now?
I accept a lingering kiss on the cheek, and hands on my waist (God, he smells amazing while I probably smell like puppies’ slobber!) “Where are we going?”
“To the beach. It’s LA. We can have a long walk under the full moon. Perhaps grab a bite or two in between. And when we’re tired, we can sit on a bench to talk. Is that alright for the birthday boy?”
“Perfect.” I climb into the car and Louis follows right behind me.
From the top floor’s window the three lovable humans who are still watching yell out to us, “Good luck, Lestat and Louis!”
