Something was wrong, something was off. She had a dream about it, whatever "it" was, but it was unclear and broken. Well, not a dream, a vision, but for whatever reason, she was having a hard time remembering it, like a dream. The only thing she knew for sure was that "it" hadn't happened yet. She had always been a light sleeper, and it had taken her an eternity to fall asleep at all. 

'I have to get up, I have to find out whatever this is.'  But even as she thought this, as she got up, she knew she was too light-headed to, to do anything well. Besides, she couldn't remember much of it. Those ones usually involve other people more than her. Ainoa took a sip of water from the cup on her nightstand, then stumbled out of bed. She walked to her closet and pulled down a sweatshirt, flopping down awkwardly. She put it on, sitting on her bed as she fumbled her socks in.

'I must have forgotten to take the sleeping pills, but it's too late now. I don't think I could get back to sleep.'  

She got back up, feeling stiff, but warm, putting her shoes on quietly, as to not wake up the others. It was only 2 in the morning, so she figured by the time she was done, the sun would just be peeking through the sleeping erected metropolis. It would not be as peaceful as the setting over the water, but it would still be a sight worth seeing, she supposed. She sighed and put her hair into a messy bun to keep it out of her face, slipping out silent as a shadow into the quiet city streets to clear her head, but she only felt more anxious. 

'It's just because I'm unfamiliar with the city, it's so much quieter at home.' 

She was visiting an old friend and was trying desperately to enjoy herself, but never liked the city much. There was not a single tree in sight, no garden, just weeds fighting between sidewalk cracks and buildings. The wind sounded different, like a hollow husk as it swept through the streets, nothing like the whispering through branches that she had become familiar with.

Large shadows loomed and engulfed cars and people, their shadows collaging together, gently shifting in blinking neon lights. The air smelled of rain though, so that gave a small comfort as she breathed it in. She missed her sisters, but she felt she could taste them in the mist, hear their songs in the wind. Just one more day.

She wandered aimlessly for a long time, trying to sort out the root of her discomfort as the sun's gleam was only prickling from the lower streets. Wandered so long, without seeing anything she found slightly interesting, she started back home, cutting through a narrow alley, wondering at the harshness of the city vista so many people love to claim as their own. She could see some of the appeal, but not enough to understand it. Either way, she had planned to stay out just long enough to see the amazing sunset she had heard so much about, but now she slowly ambled her way home.

A door just before her opened, causing a falter in her slow pensive perambulation. Five large, rather fine dressed men step out, stop, and stare. She was also forced to stop, as they take up most of the margin. The door remained open, letting club music and cold neon lights spill out, jabbing and circling at the darkness. She went to step around, but one steps into her. Ainoa froze, attempting again, but he grabbed her arm, she simply let out a sigh. 

"Sir, I-"

"My place is lovely this time of night," he grinned. "For a lady of your. . . . profession." He had a thick accent, but she was so tired it was hard for her to catch.

"My what?" She stared hard at this dark figure, trying to see just who he is. He grunted a sort of approval of this. He let out a long draft from his large cigar, glowing warmly. "I can't even see you," she growled as she rolled her eyes. With a snap of the man's finger, a light blinded her from one of the other men's fists. She squinted pitifully from behind her hand at the man as he places his other hand on her hip, feeling her. ''There's no need to do anything stupid,' she thought, eyeing the others behind him cautiously, 'at least not yet.' 

The man before her had an exquisite tuxedo that gleamed almost somberly overlapping a slick creaseless blue dress shirt buttoned low as to show slivers of his dark ink. He smelled amazing, drowning her in a thick spice musk.

"I'm sure most would turn you away because of that scar," he said, lifting a finger up to her eye, "but I find it most. . . . alluring." His finger began to trace the frame of her face, stopping at her bottom lip. She was so angry, it took everything in her not to scream, but she was drastically outnumbered. 

"Don't," she hissed. His hand drifted back and ripped the tie from her hair, winding it around the lower end of her bra strap. He smiled, killing the ember on the dark brick building and flicking it at her feet.

'What the hell?'

"I wouldn't," she warned sternly.

"Is that a threat, or an invitation," he pushed her back into the building. 'Italians! The nerve!' A lopsided grin exposed gleaming white teeth, his tongue stiffly pressed straight as a spear.

"Could anyone really be this simple?" she asked, as if discovering a revelation. He scowled at this, his shoulders dropping slightly.

"Lasciami," he muttered. The men behind him receded back into the club, leaving them again in darkness. Now it was just them, but logic told her they were just on the other side of that door. That could give her enough time to do something, to scream, to get out of there. But there was something in her that hesitated, something about him.

"Let me go."

"But isn't this what you want?" He buried his face in her dark hair, taking in deep breaths like a rabid animal. "Come now, little passerotta."

"You filthy pig." A scowl pressed onto her face, her fuse just about burned. A puzzled look formed on his face. She wanted to scream, but something made her wary of doing so.

"Do you know who I am?" This caught her off guard. She stopped and studied his face in the blunted light, recalling what she could remember of his face. 'He seems like he'd be perfectly telegenic,' she thought. 'Maybe he's an actor?'  His dark hair was long and combed back neatly, she was surprised how much it gleamed in such obtuse light. He had a trim build from training with his own body weight, and a long jawline angled harshly that made his romanesque nose seem the ultimate perfection. 'Ahg! What's wrong with me! He's such a creep!'  Although, he did look familiar.

"Ah," she groaned. She twisted as his tongue slithered into her ear, the moisture crinkling in her ear. 

"Hmm," a lustful grin possessed his face, 

"Uhhhh!" she shifted uncomfortably as he proceeded to bite her ear.

"So," he said, pressing his body against hers, spreading her arms out on either side of her head. "This must be a dream for a girl like you." All at once, she felt revolted and a tingle through her body.

"Let go."

"Oh, you really want me," he stepped deliberately onto her foot. "The looks I get-" 'That's it! I don't know who or what he is, so I'll keep it simple.' 

She twisted her hip into him hard, producing a gap, twisting one wrist down through his thumb, using the momentum to bring her elbow down across his face. He went down hard, yanking her down. 'Didn't think that one through.' She cursed under her breath and wiped her other wrist away. 

She coughed bitterly as she got up. 'Man, I really must be out of it.' When she turned back to him, he was smiling, still. 

"I was not expecting something so hot from you, piccolina." He reached over to his cigar next to him, tapping it lightly in his thumb.

"What the hell? Who do you think you are?" 

"Alessandro De Luca," he said sitting up, "or Alex."  He cupped a lighter to the cigar, gently puffing.

"Oh," she sighed, walking away, but he grabbed her foot.

"Who are-"

"No one, now get the hell away from me."

"Then maybe you shouldn't have dressed like that." She looked down and saw. . . . agh, shorts and a baggy sweatshirt partly unzipped. . . . He smiled as he clicked the lid is the lighter shut and placed it back in his picket. Calmly, she pulled the zipper all the way up.

"Satisfied?"

"No," he whispered, raising, climbing up her leg.

"Ugh," she said, kneeing him in the gut, taking off in a full Sprint.