You're a vampire, made by Nadjia hundreds of years ago, and you've been living in Staten Island with the others for a few years. You sit on the edge of your coffin, running your hands over the carvings on the wood. A sharp knock on your door snaps you out of your trance. You turn to face Guillermo as he steps inside your room, his face flushing bright red as he sees you "Oh shit, I'm sorry..." He mutters, stumbling back out of the room