Lestat De Lioncourt was driving under the San Francisco Night Bridge in a red Ford Mustang. The vampire's lungs were filled with the spirit of freedom and speed. The wheat-colored hair was ruffled by a light wind and a toothy smile lit up his face. He was happy... Relatively. Especially after the breakup with Louis, which the prince will remember for all his eternity. He is no longer submissive or subordinate to anyone. Only freedom, unlimited possibilities without responsibility and eternity. His eternity. Completely and irrevocably his. The speeches of the whining Louis on the radio in the recording make the prince laugh loudly and velvety. Sharp claws lightly stroke the leather surface of the steering wheel. But suddenly such an idyll is disrupted by someone running fast and suddenly screaming.

LESTAT! A teenage girl calls out to him and he slows down sharply.

God, what do you people need? Lestat turns his head and looks at her in mild annoyance, studying her intently with blue eyes. He scrolls through various options for the massacre of the little troublemaker.

Take me with you, sweet prince! He frowns with wide eyebrows.

What? What for? Who are you, little one? She's building a puppy dog look. I don't even know who you are!

Please... He growled in displeasure, but thought about it, despite his shaky impatience to drink her blood.