Eight years go by, until it’s 2219. Oliver and I have been moving every six months, sometimes sooner. We try to find all the vampire-friendly places, but, just like with homophobia, there are small pockets everywhere of people who simply don’t want you to exist.
I check in with Marcus every now and then. Apparently, he and Tynese soon settled into more than a friendship, so I’m happy that they found each other in that way. During one holophone chat, I congratulate Tynese on Marcus’s d**k, to which she simply rolls her eyes and laughs.
I continue to follow the news that vampires find acceptance in some countries, not in others. A small gated community of vampires forms in Albania, protecting each other—and the community around them protects them, too.
However, it’s become more black and
