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We two who've paddled in the stream
From morning sun 'til night
The seas between us roared and swelled
Since the days of auld lang syne
- Robert burns
The owners of the penthouse apartment had very kindly gone to the Seychelles for the holidays, creating the perfect opportunity for, say, an ancient vampire and his fledgling to fly up to the roof and deposit themselves, fully clothed, onto the flotation devices that had been left in the middle of the swimming pool.
Armand and Daniel were lying on their backs, both on individual air mattresses, holding hands like otters might to ensure they don’t drift apart while asleep during the night. Both vampires were, however, very much awake. It was 11:53PM on December the 31st and they had picked this particular location because it would provide the absolute best view of the fireworks display set to begin at the stroke of midnight to usher in the new year.
Though it wouldn’t just be a fireworks display this year: it would also be a drone show. 3,200 drones programmed to work in tandem to create shapes and illusions. Dragons, flowers, flights of birds. Armand had been looking forward to it for weeks and it would no doubt be magnificent to behold.
He’d been telling Daniel all about it for the last 50 minutes or so, but he had said all he had to say on the topic and they were now merely looking up at the stars in companionable silence.
The light pollution coming from the city around them was shocking, but their vampire vision allowed them to see the constellations above them with more clarity than any human would ever be able to from even the darkest, most remote region of the planet.
Lying there, on top of the warm, dimly lit water, underneath the vast expanse of the universe, Daniel’s hand in his, made Armand feel small and inconsequential, but in a pleasant sort of way. Like perhaps all the chaos and destruction he had wrought in his long lifetime didn’t matter all that much, in the grand scheme of things.
Like perhaps everything would be alright, in spite of all that lay behind them.
“When was the first time you remember seeing fireworks?” Armand asked his immortal companion.
Daniel hummed softly while he considered the question for a second or two. They both continued looking at the sky.
“Fourth of July,” Daniel answered, “in the late fifties. I was…five, I think. Six at the most. A picnic at the reservoir.”
“The Modesto Reservoir?”
“Yeah. They did this awesome fireworks display over the water. I want to say we went there every year, but maybe it was only two or three times. They had to stop doing it at some point because it disturbed the local wildlife or something.”
Daniel paused for a moment, then said, “And I know it wasn’t the first time I saw fireworks. I’d seen them before, but it’s the first time I remember. I loved the way they looked, but the loud noises scared me a little. My Uncle Tommy, he lifted me up onto his shoulders, and it wasn’t scary that way. I felt like I was so close to the sky I could almost touch them. The fireworks.”
He stretched his free hand out towards the sky. “I kinda feel the same way about the stars right now.”
Armand knew what he meant; it was exactly how he felt about the stars in that moment. “That sounds lovely.”
Daniel lowered his arm again. “It was. Tommy was great. He didn’t talk down at you because you were a kid, you know? Always treated me like an actual person. I had an apple,” he suddenly added, likely because he’d only just remembered.
“An apple?”
“Yeah. I was holding an apple while I was sitting on his shoulders. A particularly loud bang startled me and I dropped it. Tommy caught it, just like that. Took a big bite out of it and gave it back to me. Didn’t say anything, didn’t get mad at me for dropping it. Just…took a bite and handed it back.”
Armand pulled Daniel closer towards himself, so their air mattresses were flush together and he could kiss the back of Daniel’s hand. Daniel smiled at him, then brought their hands over to his side, so he could kiss the back of Armand’s. He hugged Armand’s hand to his chest after that.
“Tommy wasn’t even really my uncle. He dated my Aunt Lindy for a while, but I’m pretty sure she dumped him before the end of the year. Never saw him again after that.” A slight frown appeared on Daniel’s brow. “I would’ve liked to have seen him again.”
“Perhaps you still could?” Armand suggested.
“Nah.” Daniel turned his head so he was looking at the stars again. “He’d be in his nineties, if he was even still alive. No idea how I’d track him down. I never even knew his last name. Lindy died in ’02, so it’s not like I can ask her. Besides…” he looked at Armand from the corner of his eye. “What would I even say? ‘Hey, it’s Danny Molloy, remember how you were sort of my uncle for a couple of years seven fucking decades ago?’”
Armand shrugged. “You still remember him fondly. Who’s to say the same isn’t true for him?”
Daniel hummed. Not in a way that agreed or disagreed with Armand’s statement, but in a way that told Armand he was content with ‘Uncle Tommy’ remaining a happy childhood memory.
Armand observed, not for the first time, that Daniel not crossing into immortality until he had led a full human life had been a good thing, despite the pain it had caused them both over the years. Because Daniel had already learned to let people go, a skill he’d need in the decades to come, as those he loved would eventually grow older than him and pass away.
“How about you?” Daniel asked.
“Hmm?”
“When was the first time you remember seeing fireworks? Did they have those yet in…Italy when you were there?”
Armand was grateful Daniel hadn’t said ‘India’ or ‘Delhi’. He still barely remembered a handful of events that had taken place there, none of which were particularly pleasant.
“They did,” he said, answering for Italy instead. Armand knew this, intellectually, but not because he remembered. “They were nothing like modern fireworks, though.”
“Doesn’t Venice have this festival with fireworks? Something something Christ the Redeemer?”
Armand nodded. “La Festa del Redentore, yes. To celebrate the ending of the great plague. That was founded decades after I left the city.”
Armand cast his mind around for memories of fireworks but came up with surprisingly few of them. “I know I saw fireworks in Paris, before I met Lestat. I don’t know if I ever saw them while I was still mortal. It’s possible, but… I don’t know.”
He didn’t know whether or not that bothered him. There was a lot he remembered about Venice, but there was also a lot he didn’t. It had, after all, been several lifetimes ago, and many things had happened in the meantime.
“That’s okay,” Daniel declared with the confidence of a three-year-old fledgling vampire. “Tonight can be your first time.”
Armand couldn’t help but wrinkle his nose at that. “Daniel.”
“What?”
“Tonight won’t even be my first time seeing fireworks with you.”
“I know. It’ll be, you know…” Daniel waved his free hand around. “Symbolic. A fresh start. New year, new you, all that crap.”
“Will you be a new you as well?”
“Nah. I’m completely incorrigible. This leopard’s not going to change its spots anytime soon.”
Armand looked at him. Daniel looked beautiful. “Good. I like the current you.”
Daniel gave him a fond smile. “Ditto. New year, same us?”
“New year, same us,” Armand confirmed.
He knew, then – felt it in the depths of his being – that everything would be alright. That all that really mattered was Daniel’s hand in his. Daniel by his side, in his life. His fascinating, stubborn boy, who saw Armand for all he was and loved him for it.
“Look,” Daniel said, unnecessarily pointing out what Armand had already seen reflected in his eyes: hundreds – no, thousands – of drones, spelling out an enormous ‘10’ in warm golden light.
Armand turned his gaze back to the sky just in time to see the 10 morph into a 9.
8.
7.
The humans on the square below, on the rooftops around them, joined the countdown, their voices as multitudinous as the stars above.
3.
2.
1.
The drones regrouped to spell out HAPPY NEW YEAR as bursts of gold, red and blue exploded all around them to cheers and shouts from the crowd.
Daniel squeezed Armand’s hand. “Happy New Year, baby.”
Armand squeezed back and let out a deep breath, the last he had taken in the old year. “Happy New Year, beloved.”