Forgotten Hollow
Cameron Hall
(home to Blaine, Scarlett and their dog ‘Coltrane’)
A playful twinkle lit up Blaine’s eyes, and a sly grin spread across his face as he offered Jackson the wine glass.
“Seems like you’re itching for a taste. Don’t worry, cowboy, it’s a clean glass—no Blainey-cooties on it yet. Let’s find out if you’ve got the mettle to date my sweet grandbaby.”
As Jackson grasped the glass and tilted it towards his mouth, Jasper darted forward, snatching the glass away and returning it to Blaine.
“Let’s nope you out of this one, my Stetson-adorned amigo. Bad Blaine, bad.” Jasper’s grin while shaking his index finger at him matched Blaine’s, who complained jokingly while sipping his regained drink, as Jasper pulled Jackson away.
“Why’d ya go an’ do that? I ain’t aimin’ to look like no yellow-bellied sap-sucker ‘fore Bri’s grandpappy! I reckon I can hold my liquor, no matter what kinda hooch of a secret sauce you reckon he’s laced it with.”
“Yo Jackson, my dude, it isn’t about the contents of the wine that had me sip-blocking you—it’s about what’s missing from that glass, which is, spoiler alert, actual wine. C’mon, don’t give me that look! Scope out Blaine and Scarlett, then side-eye Chase and Hailey. Notice anything off? Like, how the parents are looking younger than their kids? Ding-ding-ding, you’re catching on. That ain’t Merlot in Blaine’s cup. You were this close to chugging a pint of pure O-neg, bro. If that doesn’t curl up your toes, then I don’t know what will! You gotta be careful with Blaine, he’s a mischievous one and will go the extra mile to prank someone. You are WELCOME.”
In Jackson’s mind, a fact he often chose to conveniently overlook resurfaced: Bri’s paternal grandparents were creatures of the night. Vampires.
Their vanishing act from the public eye now made sense, leaving only whispers and shadows in their wake. The whispers became roars as people started questioning how Blaine’s fame had spanned decades without him or his wife, Scarlett, showing any signs of aging. It was then that they chose to step away from the world’s prying eyes. Ownership of the grand estate atop the coveted Del Sol Valley hills had been passed to another descendant, the celebrated actor Reed Cameron and his family, via his father Blake, Blaine’s oldest son, who had long retired from his acting days in a modern villa in Sulani and wasn’t looking to move back to the hustle and bustle of the city. Blaine’s oldest child, retired former pop icon ViVa, aka Vivien Cameron had declined her first dibs on the beautiful home.
It had been almost a year since Blaine and Scarlett simply vanished without a trace, no farewell tour, no final album, just suddenly gone. The enigma of their departure still fueled media speculation. Just yesterday, as Jackson lounged at Bri’s family home in Brindleton Bay, her father nonchalantly switched from the news to a streaming channel, visibly annoyed by the umpteenth reiteration of his parents’ mysterious vanishing act. The broadcast recycled footage of Blaine and Scarlett’s offspring, each badgered by journalists desperate for a scoop, including a beleaguered Chase.
Jackson’s eyes widened, his face contorting in a mix of shock and revulsion. “Good Lord, Jasper, you’re sayin’ I almost drank… that? Lawd have mercy! That there thing you’re talkin’ ’bout? It’s downright disgustin’, I tell ya. The very thought of it’s enough to make a possum play dead and a raccoon turn tail!” His voice hitched, a southern twang coloring his disbelief making Jasper laugh.
After a moment, the absurdity of the situation hit Jackson, and a hearty laugh erupted from his chest. “Well, ain’t that somethin’? I owe you one, buddy.” Jasper joined in the laughter, shaking his head at their narrow escape from the evening’s unexpected turn.
“Looks like you found your funny bone, cowboy,” Blaine snickered, as he swaggered back over, raising his glass at them. Jackson squinted, noticing the thick residue clinging to the glass—definitely not wine. Blaine’s eyes, the same light translucent green as Bri and her father Chase had, but with a distinct preternatural glow to them, sparkled with mischief. “You need a sense of humor if you wanna hang around us Camerons, or you’ll be in for a rough ride.” He took a sip of the deep red thick liquid, the crystal glass glinting under the chandelier. “And see, I am not that bad, right Jasper, my little bottle bleach blond buddy? I actually say some funny shit sometimes, right?” He smirked at his granddaughter Iris Marie’s boyfriend, Jasper’s blonde hair catching the ambient light. “You get cuter every time I see ya, babyface. If you had bigger tits, you’d make a really pretty chick.”
Jasper raised an eyebrow, unimpressed and confident as always. “Sorry to burst your bubble, Blaine,” he retorted, adjusting his hands which were tucked in the pockets of his pants. “But you might need to vacuum the cobwebs from your old brain.” He leaned casually against the couch, the leather upholstery cool against his back. “A) I don’t have a babyface, nor girlish features. I am simply young—been so long for you, you don’t even know what that looks like anymore.” His smirk was razor-sharp. “And bottle blond? How dare you? You’ve watched me grow up, so you know these stunning good looks are au naturel. I am as blond as they come, no chemical help needed.” He glanced at the thick residue clinging to Blaine’s glass, trying to suppress a frown. “Anyway, how’s life treating you out here in creepy town? Been here almost a year now. Loving it or looking to leave?”
“Ah, naw, we’re here now, all settled in, might as well stay. It’s never gonna be Del Sol Valley, but it’s growin’ on me. For one, I can leave my house without a horde of those damn stalkerazzi and foaming-at-the-mouth fans up my ass, snapping pics of me from every possible and impossible angle. No fans or paparazzi dare set foot into vamp-town, and nobody living here would give a flapping fuck if I were to stand around my front yard bucknaked helicoptering my dick for fun. Scarlett was born here, and she never really fully warmed up to Del Sol Valley, so of course she’s all smiles, which means Blaine’s ridin’ high too. You know what they say, ‘Happy wife, happy life.’ We can still teleport, so we’re not exactly stuck, but since we’re presumed dead, we can’t just pop up at all the hotspots. On the bright side, the marital fuck ratio went up significantly—nothin’ else to do, so not complaining! What about you, cowboy? How’s life with my sweet grandbaby? Bri’s always been a special one. Has she regaled you with the tale of her birth? That was some fucked up shit, all right. Hailey and my boy Chase thought they were expecting one baby during the entire pregnancy. Every ultrasound showed one healthy baby girl. Imagine their bug-eyed expressions when Iris Marie popped out—and Hailey was still pregnant! HaHaHaHa! Nobody saw Bri comin’ until she burst forth like a surprise party.” Blaine chuckled.
“Naw, I haven’t heard that gem yet, but it sure sounds like Bri. Things are peachy, Mr. Cameron—thanks for askin’. Since you was the one who brought him to me for his recovery process over a year ago, and I know you know him personally but had a fallin’ out, wanted to tell ya Stryker’s back on his paws and reunited with Sophie. Been a rollercoaster healthwise for him, but he’s all better now. So, you’re a musician, or were?” Jackson tried to find some common denominators for a conversation with the larger-than-life former celebrity before him. It was pretty obvious that Blaine wasn’t the type you could butter up with flattery, unless you wanted to be the butt of every single one of his many jokes, most of them crude. He now nodded at the young horse rancher.
“Yup, that’s how we raked in the filthy lucre. I basically wrote about all the BS in my life and people ran out and bought my music as if they were hotcakes, in a way, I got paid for my therapy sessions, question being, who was the therapist and who the patient, me or the audience. I was just the screaming monkey on the stage, but the dough spends the same, no matter how you got it, right? Just don’t ask me to do anything productive with my time, or we would have lived in a cardboard box under some bridge. And as for ‘am,’ ‘were,’ ‘is,’ or ‘are’—it’s all about perspective. I don’t directly sell albums or give concerts, but I still make music and help others make their music, so I am not really out of the biz, just kinda,…sneaking around in the shadows in a way. You into music? Ever caught wind of my artistic dabblings?” Blaine wondered.
“Can’t say I have, unless your dabblin’ includes some good ol’ Country Music, Sir. That’s practically our soundtrack where I come from.” was the young rancher’s reply.
“Country Music? Me? Ah naww, shit, kid, no offense, but I’d rather listen to a juicy wet fart than twangy tunes. But hey, to each their own.”
“Whoa, Blaine, RUDE, how about we dial you down a couple notches, huh?! Yikes, bruh!” Jasper shot him a disapproving look, making Jackson admire his hutzpah talking to a vampire in such a manner. Then again, Jasper had been raised as practically another brother of Iris and Bri, so presumably Blaine was just like a grandfather to him as well.
“What? I said ‘no offense’ and ‘to each their own.’ That howlin’ and ‘bleng bleng bleng’ rhythm ain’t my jam. So grab a pacifier and zip it when the grownups chat. Oh, and by the way, you’re not my ‘bruh,’ kid. I could literally be your grandpa. How do I know? Well, two of my grandbabies are right over there with my smokin’ hot wife. We know Bri is doing her own version of ‘Survivor’ at Jackson’s ranch to see if they can make their shit work, but Iris is driven, she wants to be someone in her own right. That girl’s got fire in her veins. She’s like a punk rock anthem with a side of moonshine. And you, Jasper, you’re the bridge to her chorus. I’ve seen the way you strum those chords, like you’re writing your own love song. So, if you are tapping one of my grandbabies, I ain’t you ‘bruh’. I am your biggest fan—or your worst nightmare if you decide to fuck up, that’s who I am.”
Jackson looked bewildered. “Wait, you knew about—”
“About your romantic camp out with Bri?” Blaine chuckled. “Hell yeah. And I have known Iris and Jas have the hots for each other before they realized it. I’ve got eyes and ears sharper than a guitar pick. And let me tell ya, love’s a wild riff. Sometimes it’s a power ballad, sometimes it’s a punk anthem. Iris Marie deserves her own guitar solo, even if it’s with a pretty boy loudmouth like Jas here. So, Jasper, long way to tell ya let’s get our generational boundaries straight. I am Blaine, not dude, not bruh, not ‘ya man’. And not grandpa, not to either one of you, rule goes; if I didn’t make ya or made the one who made ya, I am Blaine to ya. Got it, you little rascals? And for future reference: You can’t hide shit from me, I am ALWAYS onto everyone, just don’t always let on. Being sneaky and illusive are skills that came with the fangs and I am damn good at both.”
Scarlett now summoned the group with a graceful gesture, ready to unveil the grandeur of their newly completed abode, a year-long labor of love. Leading the way, she narrated the manor’s storied past, her voice weaving through the corridors like a silken thread. She highlighted an eclectic mix of decor, where the ancient and the modern melded in harmonious opulence. Jackson, trailing behind, found himself enveloped in what he considered the quintessence of vampire sophistication—grandiose yet not garish, timeless yet not unwelcoming.
As they meandered through the freshly restored halls, each step revealed the personal stamp of Blaine and Scarlett’s exquisite taste. The descent into the cellar marked a crescendo of awe for Jackson, as they were greeted by rows of aged wines and spirits of the finest pedigree. The warmth of the decor and furnishings above gave way to a perceivable and implied cold aura the deeper into the basement they went. Finally, they reached the end of a long hallway, a crescendo of the tour, a vault, nestled in the heart of this underground sanctuary, cradled two coffins, their craftsmanship as breathtaking as their implication, even though both Scarlett and Blaine insisted they exclusively used the lavish main bedroom upstairs, pointing at the cobwebs.
Briar Rose’s fingers intertwined with Jackson’s, her serene presence a balm to the quiver of intrigue that danced up his spine.
Once back upstairs in the main parlor, Bri’s parents, her twin sister Iris Marie, and Jasper mingled with the hostess.
Bri led Jackson through the hallways of the estate for some moments of private time with him. She stopped and turned to him, looking apologetic.
“Oops, about earlier… Grandpa’s quite the prankster, I think I should have warned you, but was afraid if I said too much after already telling you we’re going to Forgotten Hollow and that my grandparents are actually vampires, you wouldn’t have come. I’m pretty sure he would’ve stopped you from taking a sip. Well, maybe there’s a solid chance,” Briar Rose said with a playful shrug. “But hey, look on the bright side, tasting a bit of blood wouldn’t have hurt you. Just a tad gross, that’s all. Vampires don’t drink infected blood, so if they consume it, you know the one donating, willingly or otherwise, wasn’t sick. But, I should’ve stayed closer to you, knowing he likes to prank people. He does this to everyone he takes a shine to. It’s when he doesn’t do this that you need to worry. If my grandpa is prim and proper and serious around you, I’d sleep with one eye open, cos that just isn’t like him and real reason for concern. You could ask Brad’s dad about that. Grandpa nearly took him out at a party back home a year or so ago because the old Cunningham slapped Brad right in front of everyone. Grandpa won’t stand for child abuse, so he told Dr. Cunningham what he thought about it all. With his fists, not the… ya know, fangs. My dad and Connor separated them and, well, that was just the beginning of the real end for Brad and me.” it was obviously awkward for Bri to speak about it.
Jackson chuckled, his drawl thickening. “I laid into Brad once myself, knocked his lights right out at yer party. Best keep that hush-hush, or I’ll be climbin’ to the top of yer granpappy’s bad side, and what’s left of me might just end up in his wine glass next.”
Briar Rose’s laughter echoed, light and carefree.
“No worries! That was totally different and warranted, even Brad would agree now, and if anything, Grampa Blaine would have just cheered you on. The situation I mean was different, Brad’s father literally hit him because Brad dared to disagree with him openly and he’s…well, you know. I’ll plead the fifth cos if you have nothing good to say you should say nothing at all and I have zero good things to say about Brad’s father. And even if grandpa were to lose his temper with you, grandma would intervene. She’s one of the most powerful vampires around, so don’t let her gentle demeanor deceive you. She could take down a legion without breaking a sweat. Well, vampires don’t actually sweat, but you get what I mean.”
Jackson stepped forward, capturing Bri’s lips in a tender kiss.
She sighed softly into the embrace, but the sensation of being watched crept over them. They paused, turning to find Blaine standing there, casually munching on popcorn, the loud smacks of his chewing breaking the silence. Offering the bag to them, he teased, “Oh, please, don’t stop on my account, I am not that type of grandpa, have at it and smooch. Matter of fact, I came looking for you to see what naughty stuff you two would get into, I heard juicy stories about you two sneaking around for secret humps, even back when both of ya were with other people, so my expectations were high here, brought the popcorn, turns out you’re just smooching, how boring and disappointing, considering you are a Cameron and you a cowboy, don’t those usually come with some raunchy reps? You two are not entertaining AT ALL. Scarlett and I are usually attached at the lips… or other body parts, if you know what I mean. Want some? Popcorn, not nookie, I am a pretty open-minded grandpa, but DEFINITELY not like THAT. I promise it’s just popcorn this time. I never pull the same prank twice. Or… do I? Dun-dun-dunn… keeps you guessing, right? Relax, I tried it, plasma just turns popcorn into a soggy mess. Nasty. Don’t recommend. Zero out of ten stars.” His grin revealed his fangs in the dim light and the preternatural glow in his eyes didn’t hide from Jackson that Blaine was very smart, and all this was just an act.
The encounter left Jackson with an uneasy feeling, but he maintained his composure and shook his head, briefly eyeing the offered popcorn container. “Thank ya kindly, but I reckon your kind ain’t supposed to be munchin’ on regular vittles. Is that some kinda fancy vampire popcorn or what have ya?”
Blaine shrugged nonchalantly. “Nah, nothing fancy about this, just regular microwaved supermarket popcorn, slightly stale with all the butter on the bottom, and no flavor on top, as it should be. Hehehe. Oh, we can eat alright; it just doesn’t do much for us except the sensation and the taste of it. Beyond that though… well, let’s just say it passes right through, looking exactly the way it did when it went in, unprocessed. As in, you could literally eat my shit, son. Same as in this here container, but already conveniently prechewed for ya.” Blaine smirked about his crude analogy.
Bri interjected with a grimace, “Grandpa, that’s gross! TMI big time! Eeew! Just staaaaaahp!”
Blaine chuckled, “I’m just saying he could, not that I’d recommend it. I wouldn’t. But I could eat it again. And again. And again. Cost saving opportunity, if I had to watch the bank account. Which I don’t. So, I just flush it, like a good boy pretending to me mortal.”
As dusk embraced Forgotten Hollow, the moon draped its spectral veil over the landscape, guiding their way to the opulent SUV that awaited Bri’s entourage. Hailey orchestrated the seating arrangement, ushering Iris Marie, Jasper, Jackson, and Bri into the plush interior. Their earlier mirth still lingered in the air, now blending with the serene nocturnal chorus. Chase lingered behind, contemplative.
“Just say it already, son! Ever since the others started skedaddling you have been looking at me like a chicken waiting for permission to lay an egg. So lay that egg already, Chase.”
“What’s your take on him, Dad?” Chase inquired, his gaze lingering on the distant silhouette of Jackson.
Blaine’s grin was a flash of mischief in the twilight. “Loudmouth, annoying, yet undeniably handsome, charming and confident—and as the cherry on top, comes with really deep pockets–reminds me of someone I know. Yup, me back when I was young, dumb and full of…,” he teased.
Chase’s brow furrowed. “DAD! Not Jasper. Jasper dating Iris is a bit cringey if I am honest, but he is well vetted, I was part of the village it took to raise him, so if he doesn’t treat her right, I have only myself to blame. I meant Jackson, obviously. Patches and I… we’re on the fence about him and Bri.”
Scarlett materialized beside them; her presence as silent as the grave. “What’s the concern?” she probed, her voice a whisper of silk as she planted a brief peck on her son Chase’s cheek.
“Everything and nothing. We like him, but there is just so much that we don’t like, none of it is his fault, but I am her father and I feel obligated to microanalyze it. It’s their differences—geographical, lifestyle, financial. They’re worlds apart,” Chase explained, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
Scarlett’s laughter was a melodic chime. “Isn’t that reminiscent of your own love story with Hailey? Or even mine with your father? Opposites not only attract—they thrive. Your dad and I saw it when you brought home your… what was that you kept insisting on for the longest time, oh yes, your ‘female platonic friend’ Hailey… for the first time. Platonic, when you came home from dates smelling of her perfume and with hickeys. It would have been almost insulting to us as parents, if it wouldn’t have been more hilarious you thinking you were being secretive when only neon signs around your neck could have been more obvious Hailey was much more than a friend to you, and most certainly not platonic.” Scarlett’s pearly laughter chimed up.
“Well…,” Chase grinned, blushing.
“Fuck kid, I built you a nice condom pyramid in your ensuite bathroom. If THAT didn’t scream ‘We support this relationship’, then I got nothing. I loved Hailz the first time you introduced her to us, and she’s still my favorite daughter-in-law, all those decades later now. And I raised 7 dang kids. You both were in a very similar situation as your Bri is now with Jackson, except, neither of you wore a Stetson. So, someone is being a little hypocrite-y here, and it ain’t your mother or me.” Blaine snickered.
Chase smiled faintly at the memory of 16-year-old him after Hailey discovered his father’s suggestive prophylactics artwork Chase’s teen bathroom, considered his parents’ words, his doubts waning. “But Jackson’s past… it’s complicated. His father’s legacy is… troubled. There’s just a lot of convoluted BS in there, and I don’t know that I like my little girl tangled up in it all.”
Blaine interjected with a knowing look. “Oh, we know all about that history, we may be vanished from view for the fans, but not for the family, you know how much I like sticking my nose in all sorts of places. We’ve seen our share of foster children blossom. One of our former ones is the wife of one of your daughter’s professors, so we get our intel from all sides, my boy. If Bri really ends up unable to have children one day, Jackson’s firsthand experience with this foster stuff could be a gift. They could foster, don’t you think? That would be very kind. And Bri might well help fix that checkered family past you think the Kershaws have, while ignoring we Camerons aren’t exactly the picture book kinda family either. I mean, how many perfect family stories start and end with fangs, right?” Blaine grinned.
Scarlett’s eyes softened. “We’ve seen Briar Rose’s heart mend, Chase baby. Jackson has brought back her light after her ex’s horrible, insufferable father tried his best to snuff it out. Such a sad story, that poor boy Bradford is such a sweet young man and I am pleased he and Bri remained friends, despite of his dismal father’s best efforts. Anyway, Jackson was the medicine it took to make her happy again, that’s all that matters, my sweet. Let your daughter soar, even if it is in uncharted skies. And if anyone were to ask me, MEOW. I must endorse Jackson. He is handsome, tall, strong, polite, charming, handsome, did I mention handsome? He sure knows how to make those jeans look good. And the way he talks, how he drawls and drags out those words, YES PLEASE and Yee-haw! Oh, and that hat over that suntan face and those bright baby blues? Yummy! Yum-Yum. I don’t blame my sweet meadowlark Bri one little bit for following him to the ends of … well, civilization if I am to believe Jasper and Iris’ rendition of your last visit at his ranch. All Blaine told me was about horses and dogs and he wants to bring them all home, which as we both know, is not going to happen. If he wants a horse, he can ride one from my father’s stable, right there down the road, just follow the country scent. And we have a dog, who is a handful. I can’t watch Blaine and more than one pet.” Scarlett giggled, which increased when she looked at her husband’s face.
“Don’t make me come over there and give everyone here present a refresher in human anatomy and sex ed, so you remember whom to drool over. Spoiler alert: ain’t some 21-year-old kid! Don’t you dare drool over some horse wrangler in tight jeans in front of me. Do it behind my back, like a proper wife.”
“Yeah dad, please stay off mom until after I got my family out of here. I promise you, nobody needs nor wants any refreshers from you.” Chase chimed into his parents’ laughter.
The conversation by the car between the waiting Hailey, Jasper, Iris Marie, Bri and Jackson had carried on as well, as now Jackson’s voice carried through the darkness, his drawl a soothing balm. “Bri, this here place—it’s like somethin’ plucked right outta an Anne Rice novel—a gothic romance sprung to life. When y’all told me where we were headin’, I’ll admit, I wasn’t exactly doin’ a jig, but now that we’re here, it’s as cool as it is downright spine-tinglin’.”
Bri’s laughter chimed as she tried match her words to Jackson’s perception. “And you, my dear cowboy-prince, have managed to sweep me off my feet even without your trusty steed. Turns out white horses and sunsets are way overrated.”
Iris Marie’s playful eye roll cut through the sentiment. “Anyone got some crackers and wine to go with all that cheese? Good grief, your sweltering over-sweet cooing is giving me diabetes. Let’s be real—the only reason his horse isn’t here is that it wouldn’t fit in the overhead bin.”
Jasper’s chuckle resonated warmly. “Had he ridden here, his horse’s poor legs would be on fire and as worn as a pencil nub after a novelist’s all-nighter.”
Soon after, everyone filed into the car and Chase drove them out of the dark, creepy vampire territory back into the civilization of mortals.
EchoesOfLegacy 