Cursed Souls Blood, Brains & Rock'n'roll

Chapter 20 Twentieth Century Fox

"Simon, are you asleep?"

Simon wanted to answer that question in a very rude manner, but then he remembered that Will's voice tended to sound like a trumpet, while the voice that had asked the question was much softer and more pleasant. And more feminine.

"What are you doing here, Alice?" he asked in amazement.

"I didn't realize vampires slept like this."

Simon unhooked himself from the top beam of the attic and landed gracefully, like a morning haze of fog over still wet ground, right on top of his own head.

"How are all of you not extinct if you come down like that every morning," said Alice, who ran up to him.

"I don't always come down like this," he said, getting to his feet. "I'm just a little surprised to see you here."

"Aren't we going to wake him up?" Alice pointed at Will, who was snoring with all his big lungs, who was on the bed nearby.

"Don't worry, my dear. The house will collapse and our friend William won't wake up."

In accordance with the laws of any romantic encounter under the cover of night, even if it was accompanied by Will's snoring, they were silent for a while, pretending to be embarrassed to start a conversation.

"So, what brings you here?" Simon began.

"We just hadn't talked in private since we found out that you are a little older than me."

"You want to talk about us?" A flame of hope flickered in Simon's soul. If there was such a thing as a "soul" in him. "Finally, because I was starting to have some ridiculous thoughts, like that you wanted to break up with me for real."

"Yes and no," she answered. "We'll talk about us sometime, of course, but I want to know what happened between you and Grandma. Let's be honest, now almost every day I learn something from which my view of the world, to put it mildly, turned upside down. Simply put, it's all going to hell. So, I was wondering why you two broke up."

"Sweetheart, can't you ask her? A real gentleman can't talk about such personal things behind his lady's back."

"She will say nothing," Alice took his hand and looked him in the eye with the look that hungry cats look at their masters. "And then, am I not your lady at the moment? Or did I misunderstand something?"

Simon didn't notice anything. Well, that had become a habit of his for the last hundred years.

"Of course, you're the light of my soul, guiding me through this evil world. I'll tell you. You see, I was different then. Before all this..."

The fireworks were about to start.

Simon Bielmounte was sitting on a bench in his garden, smiling dreamily. There, in his house, in his huge mansion, hundreds of people had gathered. They were all laughing, dancing, singing and clapping their hands. In a word, these people were very happy to be invited by Simon Bielmounte, whom they didn't even know. But it is a folk truth that you don't have to know the owner of the house to have a good time. The proof of that theory was right now dancing in the semblance of a dance at Simon's house.

Simon, on the other hand, didn't want to sit in the house. He was already at the point where a man already had too much alcohol, but now was in a good chance of not drinking enough. So he greedily applied himself to the bottle of scotch that was in his hand. When he had drained the bottle, he put it aside and, like any decent man who had gotten drunk, thought about his life. He was twenty-three years old. He was unmarried. But he was rich. Prohibition had made it possible for many people to have their own fortune. Simon was no exception. But what was he supposed to do next?