SJR Chapter 1 (Part 3)

They just followed you around, making things annoying.
In the past, at least, they could use the hysteria of witch hunts to vanish into the chaos. But nowadays, hunter teams were split by species. Vampire hunters hunted vampires exclusively.

“Then just kill them,” Jay said.

“Why bother wasting the effort? If we leave them alone, they just die off eventually,” Jonathan replied, baffled by the suggestion.

Sure, if a vampire hunter crossed a line and became a real nuisance, then yeah—maybe they’d get killed. But usually, they just put it off and put it off, and by the time they remembered, the hunter had already died of old age. So there was no real reason to go to the trouble.

“Then just ignore them. As long as they’re not charging at us with a stake, who cares? Just think of them like mosquitoes.”

“If anything, we’re the mosquitoes. But mosquitoes are pretty damn rude, aren’t they? Why are they drinking our blood when they’re in the same boat?”

“As if it’s that much,” Jay muttered.

“Anyway, there’s talk about having a meeting to decide what to do about the vampire hunter. You’re supposed to attend too,” Elaine said.

Jay frowned.
“There are still meetings?”

“Yup.”

Jay groaned. These damn New World vampires and their obsession with organization.

Vampires had their own kind of community. Mostly, they just held meetings—but each region had its own quirks.

In Portland, they gathered at night to knit.
In Los Angeles, they did nighttime yoga—
Why a vampire needed to do yoga was beyond Jay, but the LA crowd swore by it.

In Las Vegas, naturally, they gambled all night.
And in Detroit, artsy hipster vampires had taken over—
They gathered at night to graffiti entire building walls.

New York? New York had a Tuesday night book club.
Or rather, it was more like a fan club than a book club.

“I hate Anne Rice,” Jay muttered.

Originally, they hadn’t read vampire novels.

The club started when Elaine became obsessed with Sherlock Holmes and created a silent reading group.

But then newer novels came out— And when Interview with the Vampire was published, Elaine had run out to buy a copy and declared, “This is it!”

She gifted Anne Rice novels to all the other vampires.

Jay had been given a first edition, but he probably threw it out when he moved.

There was even a brief Twilight craze in the Tuesday club at one point.
But for Elaine, nothing ever quite topped Anne Rice.

“Lestat is the best,” she insisted.

Jay didn’t care whether she liked Anne Rice or not—
But she insisted Lestat must be loved, and he ignored that part completely.

“And what don’t you like about Anne Rice? She portrayed us beautifully.”

“Yeah, there’s even a vampire who moved to New Orleans because of her books,” Jonathan added. Elaine nodded in agreement.

Jay scowled.

“Whatever. Leave me out of it. I’m just going to live like I always do. Now get lost—I have to get ready for work.”

“Café? Bookstore?”

“Just the bar today.”

That’s in the evening, Jay thought. But he was still sleepy. He had woken up not long after falling asleep, so he could easily sleep a bit more before heading out.

Elaine and Jonathan stood up, looking bored.

“Oh—leave the blood,” Jay said, lifting the to-go cup filled with blood.

The moment he took a sip, he gagged.

“Ugh!”

He forced the precious blood down his throat, but the taste was absolutely disgusting.

“What’s wrong with the taste?”

“It was frozen and thawed,” Elaine replied.

Crazy Elaine Dunn.

“It feels like there’s no oxygen in it at all.”

“Then go buy yourself an oxygen tank.”

“If breathing actually let us absorb oxygen properly, we wouldn’t need to suck human blood, would we? Why are vampire bodies built like this?”

“Why don’t you research it? You’ve got nothing but time.”

“Too much effort.”

Yeah, there was no way he could finish the rest of that blood. He had just ruined his appetite for nothing.

Jay took the coffee Jonathan had been drinking and rinsed his mouth with a few sips. That felt a little better.

“By the way, I’m thinking of moving. Let me know if you find a good place.”

“You didn’t want to leave Chinatown before.”

“Yeah, I didn’t. But now I think staying in one place with the same face for too long isn’t a good idea.”

Elaine nodded like she agreed. Honestly, they were tired of coming all the way to Chinatown too. She said she’d look into a place in a more convenient location.

Most likely, Jay’s next place would be near hers. The rent in her area was expensive, but Jay had enough money. Living long came with perks.

After Elaine and Jonathan left, Jay stood by the ridiculously narrow window and looked outside.

The streets were full of people and noise.

* * *

After sunset, Jay stepped outside and hunched his shoulders against the cold. Even with a scarf wrapped tightly around his neck, the chill wouldn’t leave him. Vampires were vulnerable to cold. It was because they lacked blood.

Whenever he saw the streets stripped of fallen leaves, memories of winters once familiar came back to him. But those thoughts were quickly buried under the now-familiar cityscape of towering, unfamiliar buildings.

It felt like the wind carried the scent of snow.
The sky was a stark white.

Why does it feel so cold and lonely today? Jay wondered, then answered himself. It’s the blood. I’m running low.

Determined to bring home a fresh, warm body tonight, Jay headed to work.

Even in winter, the bar was noisy and busy.

Many people came and went, but Jay didn’t try to seduce any of them. It was just too cold. It would be a waste to use his energy to lure someone in when he needed that energy just to keep his organs warm.

What if I freeze to death like this? Jay thought.

Of course, vampires didn’t die from freezing. They could fall into a long winter sleep and awaken again come spring. It was a truly bizarre body.

Deciding he’d just take home the first person who showed interest, Jay worked like usual.

If it really came to it, he could take Kyle. The guy wouldn’t complain if he erased his memory afterward.

Truth be told, Jay fed on Kyle from time to time. The guy wasn’t much to look at, and he didn’t taste great either—but it was better than nothing.

At least Kyle worked out but didn’t use steroids. He once said he couldn’t afford them.

“A single malt, please.”

A man appeared in front of Jay. Blond.

Jay instantly recognized him. The man lifted his gaze and looked at Jay.

“Haven’t we met somewhere before?”

“We did. A few days ago. You left with that red-haired beauty.”

The man responded with an “Ah,” as if remembering, then smiled. As if to say That wasn’t what you think.

“Were you hitting on me and I just didn’t notice?”

Jay handed him the glass of whiskey as he spoke.

Without putting money down, the man took the glass from Jay’s hand, brushing his fingers against Jay’s in the process—like he was stroking them. His fingers were long.

“Seems like it,” he said.

His lashes were so long they almost covered half his eyes. The way he smiled was attractive.

He had a good body, too. The shape of his neck and the way his clothes fit hinted at someone who worked out.

Not combat-fit, probably just for looks.
He didn’t look bulky enough to be on steroids, thankfully.

But someone this beautiful… was dangerous.

Jay liked attractive people, sure—but not in the way of chasing after some Gisaeng-level muse like Hwang Jini, Duhyang, or Yeonhong.

He didn’t need a top-tier courtesan. Just someone who was moderately pretty, moderately clever, and danced well enough.

Getting close to the truly beautiful ones always brought trouble. Like being dragged into political feuds with the elite.

“Sorry, but you’re not really my type.”

What a waste. That body looked like it could handle a heavy feeding. But Jay couldn’t just feed on someone that pretty without caution.

The man stared at Jay, clearly caught off guard. Holding the whiskey glass awkwardly, he looked at Jay like he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard—like he was wondering if he misunderstood.

Jay continued,

“Of course, you’re striking. You’ve got a spectacular, impressive face. It’s just… not to my taste.”

“And what is your taste, then?”

“…A bit of softness in the body,” Jay said.

More volume usually meant more blood.

“And a face that’s cute, I guess.”

But not too beautiful.

The man smiled.

“So—pretty face, and soft build. Got it.”

Not pretty—pretty enough. There was a big difference.

“And height… I don’t like people shorter than me. Similar is fine, but taller is better.”

It made biting the neck easier. If they were too short, he had to bend down, and that hurt his back. After living hundreds of years in the same body, his joints and spine weren’t in great shape. Though, blood helped him recover.

“So I barely make the height cutoff? What a shame.”

Yeah, I think so too.

“Shame, really. I happen to like you,” the man said.

That was unexpected. In a place like this, people usually backed off once they were turned down. After all, there were plenty of others to date or hook up with. Even among the proud and picky, this beauty showing interest in him so directly wasn’t something Jay was used to.

“You’re not, uh… yellow fever, are you?” Jay asked.

The man closed his mouth, looking a little taken aback. Now that he thought about it, the woman he’d left with last time had been white. So—not gay, not bi, and not picky about race either. Promiscuous, perhaps? If so, that did tick one of Jay’s boxes.

Jay liked promiscuous people. The ones who attached too much meaning to a single night were always a hassle afterward.

“Then,” Jay said.

“If it’s just one night…”

“One night?”
He echoed Jay’s words with a short laugh.

“In that sense?”

What other sense could there be?

He, too, had obviously gone home with a stranger just last night. The man asked again.

“Sorry—but what’s your name?”

“Jay.”

“I’m Ian. Ian Blanche.”

Blanche, not Blanchett. French? But there was no hint of a French accent. Just a straightforward East Coast one.

“Jay, I didn’t approach you just for a one-night thing.”

Persistent. And annoying. He wasn’t expecting someone who looked like that to be this clingy. Surely this wasn’t a “You’re the first to reject me” type of moment?

Jay offered a polite smile.

“I see.”

“Well then, I hope you find someone nice.”

As he said this, he turned to greet a newcomer with a casual “Hi.”

Ian quietly watched as Jay chatted with people, mixed drinks they’d asked him to recommend, poured others shots, shaved ice, and moved through all the steps of his job.

A few people tried talking to Ian in the meantime, but he didn’t even offer a polite smile or a word of rejection—he just ignored them completely.

His glass was now empty.

“…”

What is this guy doing? Jay gave him a mildly annoyed look.

The way Ian watched him felt oddly familiar and uncomfortable.

“Another drink?” Jay asked.

“Did I do something wrong?” Ian replied.

Wrong? Not at all. He was just inconvenient.

If all Ian wanted was a night, Jay could’ve gone along, fed, wiped his memory, and moved on. But if he was looking for something ongoing, Jay had nothing to offer.

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong. You’re just not my type. I like people who are soft-bodied, tall, pretty in a modest way, and kind of… slutty.

“And you’re too beautiful. It’s intimidating.”

“That’s surprising. You don’t seem like the type.”

Not the type?

Did he mean he didn’t look like someone who’d prefer promiscuous types? Or someone with weird preferences?

Well, most people probably couldn’t turn down a face like Ian’s.

Ian seemed to reach some internal conclusion and continued.

“It’s a shame to only spend one night together. Would you consider something longer?”

“Didn’t you like the woman you left with the other day?”

“She was fine.”

“She looked good to me too,” Jay said.

She had healthy color, looked physically strong, and her internal organs seemed sturdy.

He couldn’t tell how much she’d had to drink, but given how tipsy she’d been, her liver might not have been in great shape. Still, her soft subcutaneous fat made her perfect for biting, and her unburned pale skin was exactly the type Jay liked.

If only he had brought her home, fed on her gently, erased her memories, and sent her off with breakfast—what a perfect night that could’ve been.

“She was actually supposed to leave with me. So really, I’m the one who missed out.”

“You’re not picky about gender, I see.”

“This is New York, Ian.”

Not just gay or bi—it was a place with pansexuals, cisgender folk, asexuals, and more. Jay had stopped caring about gender a long time ago.

Even when same-sex love was branded perversion or sin, he’d still sunk himself into another man’s ass.

“Well then, Jay—how about friends?” Ian said.

“You don’t want more than a night, and I don’t want something that short.”

“I don’t need friends, Ian.”

“Hard to crack, huh.”

“But I do like pretty people,” Jay said, handing over his phone.

Ian looked down at the number pad Jay had already opened for him.

“Pretty people tend to attract more people.”

Ian gave a quiet laugh and accepted the phone.

It was true—having a beautiful person nearby made others more likely to approach. Everyone knew what people came to places like this for.

Jay figured even if he couldn’t get the main dish, maybe he’d pick up the crumbs.

But judging by how things had gone lately, there weren’t even any crumbs to be found.

So many people, after being harshly turned down by Ian Blanche, would glance at Jay beside him—as if re-evaluating their target—only to walk away with a face that said, not worth it. Some tried to salvage the interaction by suggesting friendship, but even that was rejected. Still, Ian showed up every single day for two weeks straight, and by then, people had grown used to him. They greeted him like an old friend—“Ian!”—and he smiled back.

And Jay, unfortunately, was running low on blood.

If it weren’t for Ian Blanche, he could’ve easily seduced one or two people and taken them home. But that damn good-looking man sat stubbornly at the bar every night, sticking close to Jay without ever actually leaving with anyone.

Whenever someone approached Jay, Ian would intercept the conversation, stealing them away—only to ghost them and leave alone. On nights Jay wasn’t working, Ian would show up, glance around the bar, and simply leave.

It had already been two weeks of this.

“Can you recommend a single malt?” Ian asked.

“…We just got a Talisker in.”

“Then I’ll have that.”

Jay poured the whiskey and slid the glass over. Ian’s fingers slowly wrapped around it, brushing the glass in a way that almost felt intentional.

“So, am I going home alone again tonight?”

“…Jay, just sleep with him already,” Kyle muttered.

Kyle couldn’t figure out why that man was so hung up on Jay.

“I told you,” Jay said, placing both hands on the bar. “Being around someone too pretty is a recipe for disaster.”

“I prefer ugly guys like you.”

Jay tapped Kyle on the chest like he was leaving the door open.

Both Ian and Kyle looked stunned.

Ian’s face said, You really prefer that over me?, and Kyle looked offended—Who are you calling ugly?

Watching Ian react that way made Jay think—maybe Ian’s claim of being interested was a lie. What was he really after? Jay had no idea.

Thankfully, as the evening wore on and the bar filled up, Jay no longer had to talk to him. He was too busy serving customers.

Ian, meanwhile, stayed put. People approached him, introduced themselves, some even asked for his number—but he paid little attention.

“Hi, Kyle. One cosmopolitan, please. And hey, Ian.”

At least he spoke to people who had become regulars, maybe out of politeness.

“What do you do for work, Ian?”

“Public servant,” he replied.

“Really? You don’t look like it. Your clothes are way too nice.”

Ian gave no answer, just smiled and glanced at Jay—who didn’t look back.

“Maybe he’s out of reach.”

“No way. He’s got an unrequited love right now.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. It’s hard, since the person won’t even look at me.”

“Who the hell would turn you down?”

“You’re looking at him.”

The woman turned her head in surprise.

In front of Ian were her, Jay, and Kyle—and the only ones not looking at him were Jay and Kyle. And between the two, it was obvious. Ian always ordered from Jay.

“He comes here every day and hasn’t gotten a single glance.”

“Oh wow.”

Anyone could see Ian was more attractive, but the woman also knew many people had an eye on Jay. Especially those who’d slept with him once—they often hovered nearby, hoping for a second chance. But Jay rarely gave one.

“It’s tough when someone’s that popular.”

“I think Ian’s more popular,” Jay said.

“I agree,” Kyle added as he placed a cocktail down. Kyle liked to believe he was more popular than Jay—Jay was just… easier.

Ian tried to say something to Jay, but Jay, seeing someone waving at him, smiled like he’d been saved and moved down the bar.

“Beer, please. Got any plans after work?”

“Nothing in particular.”

“Yeah? Same here.”

Jay normally wouldn’t even entertain the idea.

“Yeah?”

But desperation changed things.

The guy was slightly bulky—seemed to exercise just enough to stay in shape, but not enough to build serious muscle. That made it easier to bite into.

No steroids, either. He was the kind of guy who, true to New Yorker form, couldn’t give up carbs and liked to drink, which made his blood a bit fatty—but still tolerable.

He wasn’t too thin, so Jay could feed heavily without concern.

And the man shaved regularly. That was very important.

Jay wasn’t in a position to be picky—beggars can’t be choosers.

“Wanna stay at my place tonight?” Jay asked as he handed over the beer. “What do you want for breakfast?”

“The bagel you made last time was great. The one with avocado and cream cheese—what was in it?”

“Just some balsamic.”

“That and coffee’s good.”

The man grabbed the beer. Jay placed his house key beside the glass.

“You know where I live, right? Go ahead. If you’re hungry, help yourself to something.”

Ian, who had been watching the entire time, let out a stunned breath.

Huh. That guy gets an invitation in minutes, while I keep getting turned down.

Compared to that other guy, Ian didn’t seem to lack anything. Didn’t seem to lack? Please. That was an insult. Ian was obviously the better man in every way. He looked over at Jay, but Jay didn’t return his gaze. What a twisted taste. Saying he liked people who were “moderately pretty,” yet handing his key to someone not even close? Maybe the only thing that matched his supposed type was a bit of softness in the build?

“See? Super popular, right?” Ian said to the woman beside him, clearly loud enough for Jay to hear.

She laughed awkwardly. “Well, Jay’s kind of like that.”

Her tone wasn’t malicious, but it carried a faint undertone of he’s always been a bit of a slut. Kyle chimed in from the side, “Yeah, that’s what he is.”

“You’re being a little loud with the insults, don’t you think?” Jay said, walking over.

So he did know people talked behind his back. At least Jay Taylor had the self-awareness to reflect on his actions, Kyle thought. Not that anyone truly hated “sexy,” but Jay’s shameless promiscuity was really something else. Though lately he’d calmed down, probably because of a certain someone showing up every day.

Kyle glanced at Ian. The man looked like he was trying to figure out why he hadn’t gotten what he wanted while someone else had. He kept looking back and forth between Jay and the guy who had just received Jay’s house key.

Seriously, what awful taste.

Truthfully, Ian hadn’t thought it would be this hard to go home with Jay Taylor. But Jay ignored him completely, calmly polishing glasses—if he didn’t wipe them regularly, they’d collect dust quickly.

“He never even gives me a kind look. And he knows I like him. Yet there he is, going home with someone else again.”

Again? That was rich. In the entire two weeks Ian had been coming here, he’d blocked Jay from seducing anyone, making this the first time Jay had actually taken someone home.

If Ian knew how long Jay had gone without blood, he wouldn’t be saying such things. The last thing Jay drank had been that disgusting, thawed, pre-separated pack. The texture alone was enough to make a vampire lose their mind.

In other words, Jonathan Taylor was out of his mind.

“You’re just too high-class,” Jay said.

“High-class? I’m a broke civil servant.”

“But your suit’s expensive.”

Anyone with eyes could see that. It wasn’t fully bespoke, perhaps, but it was clearly tailored to fit his body. A guy that size wouldn’t find a perfect fit off the rack—mass-produced suits would always look awkward.

Still, the man had a great body. Untanned skin and healthy coloring… He must have tasty blood.

“And your looks… You’re just too stunning. I don’t like overly handsome people.”

If only he were a little uglier—it would’ve been perfect. Jay hadn’t come across such a perfectly matched body and complexion since the 20th century.

“Why not? Isn’t beauty a good thing?” the woman beside Ian asked.

“I prefer someone with subtle charm. Honestly, someone like you is more my type than Ian is. How about a sangria? My treat,” Jay said, closing both eyes. It was supposed to be a wink, but for some reason, he always blinked both eyes when he tried.

“Next time, order from me instead of Kyle, alright?”

“Hey,” Kyle protested.

Stealing my customer, seriously? He gave Jay a playful shove. The two stood a bit too close. Ian narrowed his eyes at the sight. Kyle, sensing the stare, glanced at Ian and quickly turned away. Jay, on the other hand, didn’t react at all.

Unbelievable. Ian never imagined this would be such an impenetrable fortress. But he wasn’t discouraged. He simply looked at the sangria in the woman’s hand like he was jealous, then turned to Jay and smiled.

“Do I get one too?”

“If I ordered from Kyle, would he take care of me?”

“Sometimes it’s okay to switch bartenders.”

“Ouch. That hurts.”

“But Ian, you’re a man.”

“You sleep with men, too.”

“…Sorry. Not my type.”

“See? He just loves to make me pine,” Ian said, and laughter bubbled around them.

Why are you doing this to me? Just go out with someone else already. Jay wondered if maybe he had unconsciously enchanted Ian. But that only happened in extreme situations—and Jay hadn’t experienced one of those in two centuries.

“You’re just too pretty.”

So go flirt with someone else. What’s the obsession?

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

“There’s a saying in the East—gyeonggukjisaek—a beauty so great it brings down nations. You’re the kind to be avoided.”

“I’m that beautiful?”

“Yes. You would be.”

Ian smiled, eyes creasing. “Don’t you want to ruin a country with me?”

“You’d have to own one first. Here, your sangria.”

“Thanks.”

The woman took the drink and left. Someone waved to her from nearby. Must’ve come with friends. Why’d she talk so long if she had company? Jay already knew the answer—Ian Blanche.

That guy wouldn’t move on either.

Jay shook his head and checked his watch. Almost time to clock out.

“Jay,” Ian called out.

“You seem happy today.”

Of course he did. It had been ages since a proper meal. The mere thought made his mouth water. That guy’s size meant Jay could feed generously without risk. Just enough to cause slight anemia—he couldn’t stop smiling from anticipation.

Then he noticed Ian watching him quietly.

And there was something in that gaze that made Jay uncomfortable.

* * *

Jay’s steps felt unusually light on the way home.

Even in the cold that slowed blood flow, the thrill and anticipation of a long-overdue meal made it feel like his blood was pumping faster than usual. A sense of nostalgia mixed with excitement clung to him, as if this night echoed one from the distant past. As soon as he got back, he planned to put the guy under hypnosis, strip off his pants, and drink deeply from the inside of his thigh.

The nape of the neck was his favorite, of course—but it raised too many questions if someone woke up with a mark there. Hidden spots were always safest. The inner thigh or the soft flesh of the upper arm—those were reliable targets.

Jay entered his apartment. The soundproofing wasn’t great, and voices leaked through the walls from all directions. Half of them were in Chinese, the rest a mix of English and Spanish. As he climbed the stairs and reached his own door, he paused—there were voices inside.

Two of them.

He was sure there should’ve only been one man in there. Had he brought someone else? Jay was hungry, and handling two at once would be tough… but not impossible. In fact, it might be even better. More blood, after all.

Thinking this, he opened the door.

“Jay, you’re back?”

“Yeah.”

And then—he saw someone completely unexpected.

“Hello, Jay.”

There, seated casually on Jay’s couch like he owned the place, chatting with the man Jay had seduced earlier, was someone he hadn’t even imagined seeing.

Still stunningly beautiful, with his golden-brown hair and bronzed skin, face aglow with vitality—John Stalker sat comfortably, just as he had centuries ago.

And suddenly, Jay understood the strange tension and emotion he’d felt earlier.

“You.”

John Stalker was here.

He looked almost unchanged from the last time Jay had seen him. Turning back to the man beside him, he asked with an easy tone,

“So? What do you think of my proposal?”

“What proposal?” Jay asked sharply.

John turned his gaze to him and smiled.

“A threesome,” he replied.