A/N: Okay, my first attempt at writing a story with more than two chapters. Betaed by breakindahabbit04 - thanks Jess! Thanks to my reviewers too, I'd never have expected all the feedback =). And to anyone who is reminded by this story of "Interview With A Vampire", I must inform you I've never seen that film nor

am I familiar with the story. And I really am trying to be a little more descriptive.

Disclaimer: Don't own anything except the plot.

Chapter One

Mike shivered and hugged himself tighter. He should be sitting at his small apartment (which he had grown to call 'home') watching TV, not out on the streets freezing and alone. "Why on Earth did I pick this theme? Next time I'll write something about the mating rituals of goldfish… Fuck me for trying to be a big journalist", he thought to himself. Sighing, Mike kicked a pebble while his mind travelled back in time. Just a few hours earlier, he had been more than eager to start working on the assignment one of his teachers had given the class; students were free to pick whatever theme they wanted, as long as they wrote a real-life story subject to it. The only rules were that the students couldn't make up a person to interview and the assignment had to follow the structure of a news report. Mike, wanting to pick something that would stand out, decided to tell how the life of a male prostitute was like. Being the perfectionist he was, Mike thought it'd be good to do some 'field research' that very night. With a bit of luck, maybe he'd find someone who didn't mind being interviewed.

So far, the Fortune goddess wasn't with him. He'd been walking around nameless streets for almost an hour, in the freezing winter cold and so far the only two hookers he had seen looked like they had lived in the slums their whole lives.

Mike ran a hand through his hair and looked up at the black sky. If he didn't find anyone in the next 15 minutes, he'd just give up and go home. Despite being deep in thought, the 22-year-old's eyes widened in surprise when he spotted a man, probably not much older than himself, leaning against a wall and lighting up a cigarette; his looks gave his 'job' away. Mike took a deep breath and walked a few steps towards the man, who was by now looking at the Asian curiously.

-"Is there anything I can do for you?" the man inquired.

-"Um, actually yes. I have a little problem and I was hoping you could help me…"

-"Of course, that’s what I'm here for. It's 60 bucks for a blowjob, 150 if you want to fuck me and 180 the other way round."

-"Oh um I'm not looking for sex, actually."

-"You're not?!" the man frowned in disbelief.

-"No… uh could we talk inside?" Mike asked, pointing at a small, filthy-looking café. "I'll pay you", he added nervously, noticing the unconvinced look on the man's face.

-"So you wanna buy my time?" The man asked in an incredulous tone, taking another drag of the cigarette.

-"Uh-huh."

-"How long?"

-"Umm… thirty minutes?"

-"And I'd have to do exactly what?"

-"Answer my questions and tell me some stuff."

-"100, in advance, if you don't mind."

-"Deal. Now let's go." Mike said, grabbing his wallet and pulling out two $50 bills. Then he gave them to the man, who quickly took them.

The two men walked into the café and instantly Mike regretted his decision; that place was dirty. A few not-so-good-looking people looked at them with indifference, and then got back to whatever they were doing. Mike motioned for the guy to sit at a table, and soon a slutty-looking young waitress came.

-"What can I get you?"

-"A cup of coffee, please." Mike replied.

-"Same."

-"Okay, I'll be right back with your orders."

Sitting in front of the guy, Mike finally had a good chance to examine him. The man was rather handsome, despite his clothing and make-up; blonde spikes adorned his head, deep brown eyes, their colour similar to Mike's own, lip ring – probably good for teasing – and pale skin. Mike could also see some marks and bruises on the man's neck, some of them looking quite nasty. But he made no comments, and it was only when he paid a closer look to the hustler's body that he noticed how skinny the man was; probably he hadn't had a good meal in ages…

-"So, uh, your name is…?"

-"You can call me Chaz."

-"Okay, Chaz, I'm Mike."

The hooker nodded, and at that moment the waitress came with their orders, placing the cups on the table, along with the bill.

-"So, Mike, what's this all about?" Chaz asked, taking a sip of his drink.

-"Well, I'm studying Journalism in college, and one of my teachers gave us this assignment in which we have to tell a real-life story based on someone's account. And I decided to, uh, write about the life of a male prostitute", the younger man answered, blushing a million shades of red.

-"And you picked me?"

-"Yup."

-"Why?"

-"'Cause you look nice."

Chaz looked down at himself; he hadn't had a shower in days, his clothes were beyond dirty, his hair was much messier than the usual and his overall looks would certainly scare a zombie. "That was a joke, right?"

-"No."

-"Then what is it? An insult or a 'compliment'?" The blonde snapped, using air quotes.

-"No, you got it all wrong! What I meant was that you seem to be a nice person, I mean, you're not very intimidating…"

-"Oh so now you think I'm a pretty, harmless little whore?"

-"No…" Mike sighed. "You seem to be someone with whom I could have a serious conversation, see what I mean?"

-"Yeah… sort of", the prostitute replied, cocking an eyebrow. "So let me get this straight, basically you want me to tell you the story of my life?"

-"Yeah… basically."

-"You know, you might want to get a loan, 'cause that's gonna take, like, weeks, since you study and I work."

-"How do you know I don't own billions of dollars and live in a big-ass mansion and stuff like that?"

Chaz cracked up laughing. "1) your pained expression when you gave me the money; 2) rich kids don't come to any colleges around here; 3) you picked a low-profile whore aka me – if you were that rich you could pick one of those chicks that look like supermodels; 4) your clothes; 5) y-"

-"Okay, that’s enough."

The blonde giggled and downed his coffee. "Where's your notebook? And that tape-recorder thingy?" He asked, looking around.

-"I didn't bring them" Mike said sheepishly.

-"Aw, why not?"

-"'Cause it was supposed to be only field research."

-"Oh."

Mike glanced at his watch. "Since we're almost done with our thirty minutes, when can we meet again?"

-"Hmm lemme check my agenda... I have a very busy schedule." The hooker said, giggling again. Mike thought he looked adorable like that.

-"Do you have a pen?"

-"Sure." Mike pulled a pen out of his back pocket and handed it to the man, who took it and scribbled something down on the back of the bill, biting his lower lip as he did so. The student couldn't help but mentally coo at the sight, also noticing the prostitute was left-handed.

Chaz handed the pen and the bill back to Mike. "That’s my phone number. You're most likely to catch me between 4 and 7pm, and DO NOT EVER call before noon! Only if you die or something."

-"Why would I call you if I died?"

-"So I knew I wouldn't be seeing you and your cash anymore."

-"But how am I supposed to call you when I'm dead?!"

Chaz shrugged. "I dunno, you figure that out."

Mike could only think of the 'dumb blonde' cliché.

-"Well, must get back to work. See ya", the prostitute said, getting up, waving at Mike and walking out.

Mike kept staring at the door long after the other man was gone. He finally summed up the courage to gulp down his cold, untouched coffee, pay the waitress and step out into the freezing night, a small smile playing on his lips and he walked towards his scrawny apartment. He had already memorised the phone number written on the bill.

Was it too bad? Please review!

-Niamh