This story Copyright (c) 1993, by the Flying Pen.This story Copyright (c) 1993, by the Flying Pen. All rights reserved, permission granted for a single copy in paper form for personal use. Retransmission of this story in its electronic form are permitted as long as no alterations are made to the text, and this message is included in its entirety. VICTORIA, OR HOW I LEARNED TO LOVE NIGHT MUSIC Chapter 1: What's A Nice Girl Like You...? I saw her sitting at the bar. She had full lips, set in a pretty face. She had round cheeks, very brown eyes, and curly jet-black hair that came to her shoulders. There was something foreign and exotic about her face, and the way she was sitting made her all the more attractive. She was surrounded by men, obviously enjoying all of the attention. She put a cigarette in a holder, and six flames appeared. She selected one, but smiled at all the gentlemen, and basked in the attention again. I ordered my drink, looked at the spectacle fifteen or so feet away, and shook my head. Yeah, she was gorgeous, but all those guys? I looked up from my drink, hoping to steal another look at the foreign beauty, but I picked the wrong time. She was looking in my direction at the time, and our eyes met. Or rather, locked. I couldn't turn my head away, and my feet suddenly grew roots. I was embarrassed. She stood up, smiled at the crowd of guys, and walked through the crowd of shocked, would-be suitors. Our eyes were still locked, and there was no doubt in anyone's mind whom she was headed for. She stood in front of me and smiled. Her eyes danced, and she spoke in a musical, accented voice. "Hello, I am Victoria." She held out her hand. The accent had left me unsure of what to do, so I kissed it. |