|{𝑺𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝑺𝒊𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆𝒔}| Lost boys

Chapter 1- Moving

[I do NOT own the "Lost Boys" (1987) movie. I only own some of the plot and characters that I add. Also this story will be in a narrative POV]

[Warnings- Strong language and smoking and slight mention of drugs]

[Side Note(s)- the song was my inspiration for not only the title but the story. Also give them a listen I personally love the band 🖤]

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June 4th, 1987

  It was that summer that the Emerson family- minus their father- moved to Santa Clara, also referred to as the 'Murder Capital of the World'. Or at least that's what the back of the billboard said. Michael just kind of shrugged it off thinking that it was just a scare tactic that a bunch of kids tried to use but failed miserably. Though he found it kind of funny, in a sick and demeaning way. 'How can this be the "Murder Capital" when this place was so damn populated?' Michael thought dryly.

  He could briefly make out his mother's and Sam's- still high pitched due to lack of puberty- voices over the radio. Was he really spacing out that bad? It's been happening more frequently now then it was when he lived in Phoenix. But then again that was before his father decided to screw his secretary and knock her the hell up. Though, as much as he hates to admit it, he understands why his father did what he did. He saw how they were in Phoenix, and the term 'broken' was the understatement of the fucking year. He saw how lonely his mom was and how distant his dad got. His mom was too focused and his father wasn't focused enough. In the end they both just pushed each other away and now they're here.

  "Hey we're almost there." Michael vaguely heard his mother's cheerful yet gentle voice say. "What's that smell?" Sam's voice made Michael focus more on their conversation and not his thoughts. Michael was about to open his mouth and ask Sam what the hell he  was talking about when his mother started talking. "Mmm- Ah! That's the ocean air!" She said with enthusiasm and and a smile only a mother could make.

  Michael sat up while listening to them because his back was starting to hurt from the awkward position he was laying in moments ago. He was about to open his mouth again when someone started speaking again, this time it being Sam. "Smells like someone died." Michael rolled his eyes and thumped Sam on the ear. Which earned him and exaggerated sigh and eye roll from the youngest Emerson. "Awww, honey"- she briefly looked at Sam and then Michael in the rearview mirror- "Look guys, I know that last year hasn't been easy but I"- she stuttered a bit- " I think you guys are gonna like Santa Carla." She said gesturing at the place with her hand.

  Michael shook his head and looked out the window and watched as they drove by all kinds of places and people. Some with mohawks and weird piercings, dressed from head to toe in leather or the color black in general. The brunette briefly wondered to himself how someone could wear so much of one color- especially black of all fucking colors- and not want a change. They never really had that in Phoenix or at least he didn't. He never hung around people like that. The most grundge his school had was the goths he would sometimes see in class or ditching all together (and he stayed away from them because if he was being honest with himself- they scared the absolute shit out of him).

  Michael looked around as his mother stopped the truck in front of a local restaurant. He didn't think much of it but then he got a bright idea as he got out of the vehicle in time to see his mom hand sam what looked to be a 50$ dollar bill and told him to give it to some kids who looked like they haven't ate in a week. Michael looked at them and then looked away just as quickly. He can't dwell on things that aren't his fault. Haven't said that, it still somehow makes him feel guilty. He quickly shook away the thought and feeling walked up to his mother who was currently buying icecream for the three of them.