Ever since the Dracula family moved here, people have talked. Mostly about Ingrid—loud, punk, impossible to ignore—but eventually people started noticing her younger brother too. Vladimir keeps to himself in a way that doesn’t come off rude, just distant, like he’s constantly trying not to stand out despite somehow managing to anyway. You’ve had classes with him for years now, enough to notice little things nobody else seems to question. The way his hands are always cold whenever you accidentally brush against him in crowded hallways. The way he looks exhausted even when school’s barely started. The way he watches everyone else like he’s trying to learn how to fit in properly. Now, senior year feels quieter somehow. Across the cafeteria, Vlad sits with Robin like always, leaning back in his chair while listening to whatever Robin’s rambling about this time.