“GOD ING DAMNIT!” I scream as I storm out the front door, slamming it shut behind me. I quickly grab my bag of weed and bowl from my now ex girlfriend's car. Shoving it in my pockets, I begin walking to find a nice alley to smoke in. The pain from my girlfriend punching me in the face finally starts to set in. Reaching up, I touch my face, lightly touching where she hit me. Luckily, I wasn’t bleeding.

    After walking a few blocks, I find an alley behind a liquor store and I think a club. Hell, I should blend in. Sadly, the liquor store was closed. I could go into the club, but that would require me to socialize with people.

    Sighing, I sit down with my back against the wall of the liquor store so I can keep an eye on the door of the club. I pull my weed and bowl out of my pocket and quickly pack it, putting the glass to my lips, and my finger on the hole on the other side. I light the drug and , letting the smoke build up before letting my finger off the hole. The harsh and warm smoke rushes into my lungs, and I hold it for what seems like forever.

    Suddenly the back door of the club opens, and I slide the bowl in between my legs. Realizing I still was holding my breath, I breathe out and cough a bit, catching the stranger's attention. The man starts walking towards me. ‘,’ I think to myself.

    “Hey, are you alright? What happened to your eye? Did someone hurt you?” he asks, genuinely concerned. I mean, I can’t be mean now.

    “I accused my girlfriend of cheating on me and she hit me. I am just here hiding and relaxing,” I speak quietly.

    “Do you not have anywhere else to go? You know it is probably not safe for an American girl to sit behind a club and get high at this hour,” he said as he chuckled a bit.

    “Is my that strong?” I start to feel a little warm inside and the “ it” attitude coming over me. All the stranger did was laugh.

    “You know, you could come into the club and hangout with my friends and I.” At this point I felt the full effect of the drug settling in, and started chuckling at the stranger.

    “What makes me, an American girl, safer hanging out around a stranger I just met outside of a club… in an alley?” He gave me a warm smile and extended his hand.

    “Are you coming or not?” I took his hand. I knew I would probably regret it, but it’s not like I can go back home. Slipping my back into my pockets, I follow the stranger into the club.

Authors Note: This is REALLY short, but I am just setting up for the next (hopefully long) chapter. Let me know what you think. (: