Protip for Vampires #143: self-control is overrated, until it isn't.

Behold! The vampire (me) lurked in the middle of the den of lust and sin that is the Porn Emporium and admired the magnificent 3-foot tower of flourescent coloured dildos that someone who-shall-remain-unnamed (me again) had built at the end of aisle three. This was what my life had become: a literal tower of dicks.

"Normal is fucking boring," I sighed to myself, then glanced around the store to make sure nobody had managed to sneak in while I was distracted during tower construction. Besides my dildo masterpiece, there was nothing much to see except for the neatly organized aisles of Blu-Rays and DVDs. Why anyone bought these when porn was readily available on the internet whenever the, uh, mood struck, was beyond me. A collection of specialty boxed items balanced on the tops of the shelves, and believe it or not, those were hotter sellers than you would expect.

I kinda-sorta missed Sammy's incessant questions, but this was only after she was gone. I had pretended to work, but eventually I had gotten into the flow of things and had actually started working. Strange thing to hear about, I know, but it was stranger to be the one doing it. It was like something had clicked inside and I started seeing how much more orderly everything could be. "Banging Stifler's Mom XXIV" clearly did not belong in the Barely 18 section, and someone had mixed up all of the BBC & Bondage Babes, 1 through 86 collection. I packed shelves, moved boxes, and added labels to unpriced items. And then I built my magnum opus—Dildo Tower.

The best thing about it was that until this moment, three hours had passed without a single thought about vampires, vampirism, bloodlust, or the imminent arrival of my mentor/nemesis, Beatrice. I had embraced the normal... and had found it to be way too normal. Confusing, right?

The music on the store speakers changed from the hip-hop mix Sammy preferred, to the opening guitar strums of a very familiar Foo Fighters song. It was a song that brought a lump to my throat and made my heart ache, but that didn't matter. It was our song.

Of course I sang along. I might have even danced a little when the chorus came on. I found the remote and cranked the volume and headbanged a little as I wondered 'if everything would ever be this real forever...'

It's that time again folks where my life becomes a ridiculous version of a low-budget rom-com. This is the one where the lovable protagonist sings his heart out into something inappropriate that's definitely-not-a-purple-leopard-print-dildo ($19.89 now on SALE!), and then opens his eyes to see the object of his affection standing and watching his performance while laughing her ass off. Yeah, we just reached that part.

I fumbled the definitely-not-a-dildo and it spun out of my hands before bouncing on the floor. The remote for the sound system got stuck in my pocket, because of course it did, but after an embarrassing moment that seemed to take forever, I managed to finally turn the volume down to acceptable store-levels. I smiled nervously at Jaime, desperately trying to hide my embarrassment at being caught and the degree to which my heart was thumping in my chest at the sight of her.

Jaime wiped at her eyes, getting her laughter under control. "I always liked that song," she slurred and smiled as if she didn't hate me at all. She swayed and then staggered a little, and I smelled the rich, fumes of moderately-priced whiskey.

"Well, I always thought it was our song..." I replied and then watched Jaime's smile darken and fall into a scowl. Whoa, that went downhill fast.

"Sebastien never liked the song," Jaime confided. "That motherfucker."

"Anyone who doesn't like that song is definitely a motherfucker," I agreed. My eyes went to the brown paper bag in her hand. The L.C.B.O. logo on the side confirmed that Jaime was at this point in time, completely fucking drunk off her ass. The Liquor Control Board of Ontario had some strict opinions that their bags were only to be used for the transport of alcohol from their stores to your home. Jaime, like many other residents of Ontario, had given that law the middle finger and was using said bag to partially hide an open bottle of scotch (her liquor of choice) she was drinking.

"You're drunk—" I pointed out.

"Of course I'm drunk! That—' she paused while she found the right word, "motherfucker dumped me in front of all of his friends!" Jaime shook her head and scrunched up her face in distaste. Her shoulders slumped, and she shook her head solemnly. "I have never been so humiliated in my life," she whispered.

I would have said something in commiseration, but Jaime chose that moment to take a huge swig from the barely hidden bottle, and the moment passed.

"Did you come here to fight me?" I ventured. That earned a short barking laugh from Jaime, and she staggered into a shelf, knocking over a couple of DVD cases.

"Maybe?" Jaime teased, sloppy smile and heavy eyes leering at me. "I'd like to punch Sebastien in the dick, but maybe I'll punch you instead."

"How about we don't do that? Maybe we could both punch him in the dick?" Why hadn't Sebastien glammered her and made this part so much easier? I was going to have to punch him in the dick myself if he ever made it back from Lady Vera's diabolical clutches, as unlikely as it seemed.

"I blame you for this, Bob!" Jaime snarled, her mood darkening. I dodged the first dildo she threw at me, a reminder of her excellent aim, and also how much ammunition she had with my freshly sorted shelves. She pause, a couple of purple vibrators in each hand as her emotions shifted. "You and I had something special, something really good, you know? But you just had to go and fuck it up, and I fucking hate you for it." Jaime sobbed, and then paused to throw both dildos, first one, then the other. "I fucking loved the shit out of you, and you ruined it!"

"I loved the shit out of you too!" I yelled back, really not knowing what else to say. "I still do!"

That earned me a barrage of sex-toys as Jaime screamed wordlessly and wrecked the aisle three display of alien themed strap-ons, vibrators and pocket-pussies. I tried to catch each one at first, my vampire reflexes allowing me to dodge easily, eye-hand coordination unlike any I had ever had . I even managed to put the first few back onto a shelf, but that only served to enrage Jaime. She kept up the onslaught, and I resigned myself to my fate. It was like one of those scenes in the epic fantasy movies where the hero looks up to the sky to see a cloud of arrows that blot out the sun. Instead of arrows, I had a rain of dildoes in and out of their packages. I could have caught each one easily, stepped out of the way and been a complete badass, but this really wasn't the time for it. No, not this time.

I took the next Velvety Pocket-Pussy ($24.99) to the face.

I went down like I had been hit with a shotgun, throwing in a little extra acting for full effect. The rest of the sex toys bounced to the floor around me, an obscene testament to how much I had fucked things up.

After a moment I poked my head around the corner. Jaime sat awkwardly on the floor, empty bottle of scotch next to her.

"Why is love so fucking hard?" Jaime murmured.

"Love is easy," I replied after a moment. "I think it's knowing who to love that's the hard part."

Jaime smiled. "See, that's the Bob I fell in love with. Nice to see him again."

"I never went anywhere Jaime," I said. "You're the one who left me. I would have done anything to get you back, but you didn't even give me the chance."

That hung between us for a long moment until Jaime smiled humourlessly. "We didn't even have break-up sex," she slurred drunkenly. "They say it's the best way to get over someone. "

"I-I don't want to be over you."

Jaime winked and put an unsteady finger to her lips. She tried to wink, but it went very badly. "Then maybe it's time for that's break-up sex?" she leered and attempted a sultry pose. This only resulted in her tumbling over onto her side as her limbs failed to cooperate. She giggled, reached for the empty bottle and then rolled her eyes when she realized how empty it was. "Somebody drank all my booze," she complained.

"All gone," I agreed and she nodded, her lip quivering for a moment before she burst into tears. I couldn't tell if she was crying over the booze or our fucked-up relationship. Or maybe maybe it was because of Sebastien, but fuck that guy.

I leapt to a stand and surveyed the wreckage that Jaime had wrought, then reached for my phone. I should have been ecstatic to have Jaime throwing herself at me, but this was all wrong and so very fucked up.

"I'm calling you an Uber," I announced as I tapped on the app and entered Jaime's address. I was going to have to close the store while I went with Jaime to make sure she got home safe. Passed-out drunk girls and Uber drivers are not a good combination.

I turned back to Jaime and staggered back as she stumbled drunkenly into me. I felt her arms clumsily wrap around my waist.

"I'm going to punch you in the dick," she slurred happily and then passed out in my arms, snoring almost immediately.

Thankful for the extra strength that came from being a vampire, I managed to slip my arms around her shoulders without dropping her. Then I easily lifted Jaime into my arms. I felt for the first time like the lead in one of those stupid rom-coms I'd been watching for the past six months.

I found myself looking down at Jaime's beautiful face and at the curve of that gorgeous neck of hers. It had always been a long beautiful neck that I had enjoyed kissing, and now tonight, there it was again. I could almost see the steady thrum-thrum-thrum of her blood coursing through the artery in her neck, that I'm not even going to pretend to remember the name of.

My heartbeat synced with hers, matching the pulse, the steady thrum-thrum-thrum filling my world, more intoxicating than any drug I had ever taken, more mesmerizing because it was her, the love of my life.

Now! Take her now, drink! That was a voice in my head that sounded nothing like me, but for some reason I listened to it.

I didn't even feel my fangs slide into place—

A large black rubber dildo about the size of my arm, smacked me in the face. I sputtered and looked up wondering who else had taken up Jaime's recent hobby of throwing sex-toys at my head.

"Bob?" Louise's voice cut through the fog. "What the fuck are you doing?" Louise stood just inside the front entrance, her face dark with barely contained rage.

I looked down at the unconscious Jaime in my arms and then back to the enraged Louise and tried very desperately not to say that this wasn't what it looked like.

"Thith ithn't what it lookth like!" I stammered, almost lacerating my tongue on my extended fangs, and then mentally slapped myself.

"You were about to take a bite out of Jaime's neck!"

"I wath only thinking it, I thwear!" I lisped and finally my fangs slid back. Goddamn things were worse than awkwardly timed erections.

Louise strode forward and lifted Jaime from my arms, almost as if she were a doll. There was a moment where I didn't want to let go. I even gritted my teeth and an alien thought flashed through my head.

Mine!

The thought surprised the shit out of me, and I released Jaime into Louise's arms, my heart pounding, fear lancing into my brain like painful spears. What the fuck was wrong with me?

Louise glared daggers at me, a promise of pain to come if I tried anything. "I'd say there's more than thinking going on, mister!"

"I promise you: I was about to take her home. I even called her an Uber and everything!" My phone dinged then, and I held it aloft triumphantly to show off the message that my Uber had arrived. "See? Uber!"

Louise shook her head. "Beatrice is right," she said, her British accent making everything sound even more disapproving. "There's something wrong with you. I thought you were better than this."

"I am better than this! I swear I am!"

"Then please explain to me what else you could have possibly been doing to Jaime when I walked in!" She scowled. "You didn't even hear me enter, Bob! I yelled at you and it was like there was nobody home."

That one hit like a punch in the gut. I frowned, shaken by this revelation.

"Oh..." I said. It was all I could say.

"I'm going to take Jaime home. Make sure she gets in safe. Whatever is going on with you, maybe you should fix it before you try to see her again." I nodded in agreement, but Louise wasn't finished. "If I find out that you hurt her, I will fucking murder you myself!"

Louise strode out the door, carrying Jaime with her.

As the door swung shut, I caught sight of my reflection, and for a moment, it wasn't my face I saw in the glass. It was just a flash and it was enough to scare the shit out of me because I recognized that face.

Ibrahaim.

I grabbed a mirror from the sunglasses rack on the counter, but all I saw was my own face and those intense blue vampire eyes that still looked alien in my face.

It was just me, nobody else.

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