𓆱

𝔦𝔦.             It Always Starts Somewhere
⎝  How long have you been dead?

2022.

New York.

The city of dreams hopes, and the future for many who often came there in search of it. A melting pot with people who arrived from different walks of life, making the attainability possible. In Simone's case, she sought out one thing from the city and that was refuge. Freedom if you must bury it doesn't always come easily.

The sweet and spicy smell of Chrysanthemums wafted throughout the spacious and tidy penthouse apartment that belonged to Simone. Her gaze was focused, holding onto the watering can as if it was a mere child, watching as it drowned the vibrant colors of canary and marmalade into a spectacle of futileness. The flowers themselves brought life to her climactic home, replacing the blacks, reds, and browns with something much simpler. It was also the color of the flowers specifically that made her want to speak about the past all too real. It was relatively dark in the home, with the windows being tinted to help protect Simone specifically her sun from the harsh rays. She hadn't earned the ability to withstand light just yet. After all, she was just a hundred years old.

There was a clattering of footsteps that provided an evident disturbance of her focus, and just like that, the watering can be lifted and her attention was brought to whoever felt the need to interrupt it. First, she sees a flicker of black hair slicked away into a bun, followed by a flicker of gray curly hair.

"Sorry for the interruption Miss, but, Mr. Molloy is here as intended." It was none other than her housekeeper, Diane. She'd been making sure that Simone's home was well looked after, whenever she was out of town for years now so it's safe to say that Simone trusted her to an extent. Even having her live with her.

"Mr. Molloy. It's so nice to see you again on such short notice. Please, make yourself at home." Simone greets, placing the watering can back onto the table. After having a lengthy discussion on the phone, Simone paid for all of Daniel's expenses knowing that the trip to New York could be a rather tedious one, especially with an ongoing pandemic. She wouldn't want to risk his health on purpose especially since it wasn't in the best space.

"Diane, could you please make sure that Daniel's room is ready for him and that he has all the things necessary to make his stay comfortable." With a nod, Diane grabs Daniel's suitcase and makes the short journey to his room. Within the penthouse had five rooms with only two being used at the moment. So it's safe to say that there was all the space in the world needed.

It grew quiet when they both stared at each only, mainly due to the sudden circumstances they found themselves in. It wasn't until she smiled at him presumably reading his thoughts, gesturing for him to ask what he wanted to say that he decided to speak.

"So this is your home?" Daniel asks, looking around, taking in his surroundings. Large, spacious, colorful, and expensive. Paintings hung up on the wall that held great evidence of it being painted during the French Renaissance. Riddled in culture, history is what made Simone's home the idealistic place you'd consider a museum.

"It is." Said the vampire thoughtfully, slowly walking across the room towards the window. "How much tape do you have with you?" Simone asks turning to meet Daniel's gaze. "Is it enough for one's life story? I sure do hope because it is quite long."

"Yes, if it's a good story then yes."

"Fair enough."

"Alright then," Placing his briefcase on the large glass table, Daniel quickly removed the small tape recorder from the briefcase, made a check of the cassette and the batteries, and then pulled out his computer. Just because the times have changed doesn't mean he'll stop using old methods. "It's quite dark in here."

"Right, it is. My apologies." Simone tends to forget that what she thinks is light is darker than the average human. "I'll just turn the light on for you. Would you like anything to drink?"

"Water," Daniel answers and watches as Simone summons Diane to come forward. The brunette eventually does, doing as Simone asks. She soon places a pitcher and glass cup beside Daniel.

"Thank you." There's a snap and the room becomes a decent bright shade of faint white. You can see everything now. Simone takes the empty seat from across where Daniel sat. "If you're wondering the light does nothing to me. It's not real anyways."

"I figured." He opened up the laptop, waiting for the screen to turn on. Putting on his glasses, Daniel types in the password and clicks on a new document. "Just to be clear Ms. Dubois, what are you looking for once this interview comes to an end?" Daniel questioned with a brow.

It couldn't have been money, by the looks of things she already had enough than there is.

"The truth," Simone answered simply placing both hands on the table. "For years, decades I've kept to myself. Letting out not a single word for my reasons that we will soon dive in. I've distanced myself from Louis and all that came with him until my dearest, husband was kind enough to start talking. At first, I was just going to let it play by until I realized that I deserved to speak my truth. I can't just sit here and swallow my tongue when you, Daniel will eventually write the book for everyone to read. That's not fair, is it? I can't force Louis to do it, so I'll just do it myself." She explained to him. "I've lived a long life Daniel, and I'm tired of the bullshit."

Leaning forward, Simone said gently, "Start the tape, Danny."

Daniel slowly nodded at her words mentally scoffing at the nickname before he pressed play. "I'm Daniel Molloy, it is 8:35 in the morning on July 17, 2022, in The Landon Penthouses located in New York, NY, across from Miss—" Daniel trailed off, gesturing for Daniel to speak into the mic.

She leaned forward in her chair, voice clear and poised as she spoke. "Simone Dubois." She answered.

Continuing, Daniel cleared his throat. "So, Ms. Dubois. How long have you been dead?" This was the first question that kicked started the interview.

A haunting smile came over Simone's face, chuckling as she found herself reminiscing over what she tried so hard to suppress. Like a movie, her life flashed before her eyes. "A long time. I was a twenty-six-year-old woman when I became a vampire, and it was the year was nineteen-ten."

"And god what a shit show it was."