Note regarding copyright laws: All characters belonging to Cayote Ugly in this story remain the original creation of the movie 'Cayote Ugly' and its registered authors/film makers, etc. Elizabeth Asben is an original character and therefore please do not use her unless approved by me.

Note regarding location: Liz's home is an original location. NYC is not but the streets might not be real since I'm not familiar with New York. More blabbing from me, the author:

This was one of those stories where I got inspired while doing homework (ack!) and just have to write it down so I can finish my lit review for some important test the next day. Sigh, one day I'll learn how not to be distracted, but before that happens, here's the story ( . I was gonna use an original setting for this. but that appeared too stressful for my cat since she pounced on me when the idea came through. so, here ya go (. Flat faced kittens are very pouncey.

Gone Deeper than That Chp1. Savior at the Bar

Elizabeth Asben was your everyday 19-year-old, raw to the outside world of which she is dying to see. Liz lived in the outer skirts of what some body could call their dream city; NYC. I guess you could call her life a dream, and it probably is one. A little above average height, Liz was a delicate mix of black curls and slightly tanned skin. Her eyes were green, large and innocent. Elizabeth was healthily slim, but not overly skinny. Got a picture of her in your head now? Good, now let the story begin.

The morning shone bright and colorful, bringing a heat of optimism and adventure into the household on Wenyard Avenue. It was a small house, barely larger than a garage, but it fit into the loose and dirty setting that was close to the Big Apple and yet very different from it. It might be called a household, but it barely was one. My friend and I were the only people who lived here. She was a year younger than I am; 18 to be exact, and a beautiful brunette for that matter. Erin had those incredible brows that needed no grooming, deep set, blue eyes and freckled skin, pale with a sweet blush. She was your typical hardworking, determined gal who focused her entire life energy on achieving some major goal. I, however, am completely different. First of all, Erin and I met when her former friends had dragged her to a wild party 30 minute drive into New York City. She had freaked out when she found out there were drugs, alcohol there and a dozen people making out. However, when her friends refused to let her leave, I had managed to drag her outside when her friends got pretty drunk and drove her home. Erin and I had that trust between us that kept our friendship going until now, over weighing our complete different interests. Speaking of interests, Erin absolutely loved literature. She plans to go to a famous university and become a professor in literature. She was into the actual writing, not the poetry, for which I was thankful. Me, however, I plan to become a musician. I play the guitar, piano, and I sing. I had planned forever to move to into the NYC when I was 19, and now that the age had finally caught up with my dream, my future seemed to shine with brilliance, as the day was too.

It was around noon that I finally finished packing. My personal belongings didn't take much room, but my instruments did. Erin stood by the steps of our house, her face looked plain miserable.

"Do you have to leave?" She said in her round, pearly sort of voice.

"I'm sorry Erin," I apologized again, "You know it's been a dream of mine forever."

"Well, just stay away from those bars," Erin absolutely despised drinking.

I didn't say anything back to her about bars, "I'll visit every weekend, I promise."

Erin nodded, and she saw me off as I climbed into my car and drove off. NYC was in a distance that took less than 30 minutes to cover. The big city was a familiar scene to me, but it was nonetheless amazing. I had called in advance to rent an apartment near a restaurant and some music buildings I thought I would most likely visit. When I had my first look at my apartment, my first dream image about my new home disappeared. The place was hectic. The bathrooms were yellow from age, and the windows didn't close properly. The floors creaked and the mirror and a slit down the right edge. Everything but the bed has some sort of disfiguring, but like the owner said, it was as good as you can get here in NYC for a cheap rent. When I get a proper job, I'll move to somewhere better, I promised myself.

I left my stuff in the apartment, and eagerly left the building, locking my rooms behind. I had planned to perform this night at a club where my friend Dean, a drummer, had arranged for my appearance. It was a place where the musicians went to in order to find new talents in singers, players, and songwriters. It was where I planned to make my beginning in the music world.

It was six o' clock when I finished rehearsing with the band Dean arranged for me in the studio. My friend was impressed, and so was the band. We had planned to go out for dinner when an emergency rehearsal was in order and Dean had to sit to listen as the band had to play.

"I'm really sorry," Dean apologized with a helpless smile.

"That's alright, Dean," I told him, smiling. "I know my way around here, it's not like I'm exactly new."

Dean gave me a hug for good luck tonight in my performance, and he was gone. When I left the building, a restaurant across from the studios caught my eye. It was close to the club I had to perform in, and the food smelled great from where I stood. My feet moved slightly faster as I walked towards the restaurant, the wonderful sensation of food already on my tongue. But before food came anywhere near me, someone else did. A large man walking out of the restaurant grabbed my by the arm. He held on so tight that I screamed out in pain. Nobody seemed to have noticed before he took a sharp turn into a dark alley. Then he sprayed something near my mouth, and I lost my consciousness.

It was several hours into the dark when I woke up in the back of some bar. A man looked down at me, but he wasn't the large man whom I had remembered last. He had dark hair, and large, mocking eyes. The man sighed in relief when I opened my eyes.

"Finally, I was beginning to think that drug did some extra on you," his Australian accent was quite visible now that he's spoken.

"Um, where am I?" I asked, and then more urgently, "and what time is it?"

"You're at the Coyote Ugly, a bar," he replied, and then looked down at his watch, "and it's 10:36, to be exact."

I sat up and stared at him in disbelief.

"What?" the man said, his eyes dancing innocently.

I sighed helplessly, "I missed my audition in the musicians' Club."

The man now had this look of pity on him, "I'm so sorry, but think about the good side, you're not sold to some whore house, which you could be."

"Does that actually happen?" I asked.

"I don't know, but it could," the man replied. "Anyway, what's your name?"

"Liz, your's?"

"Kevin."

I nodded and smiled. Then a blonde woman came in, she looked relatively my age. The woman wore a ripped white shirt, and hip hugging leather pants. She had dark make up on and her skin glittered.

"So you're awake," she said with a smile, "welcome to the Coyote Ugly, I'm Violet."

"Nice to meet you, I'm Liz," I told her.

Kevin turned around to look at Violet, "She just missed an audition at the club, maybe she can perform here instead."

"That'll be good, since Rachel isn't here today and Cammie and I have to manage the crowd by ourselves," but then Violet turned to me, "do you think you could?"

I cleared my throat a bit, "I think I'll be fine. This can't be too different from performing on stage."

Violet winked, "Oh, dancing is a must."

I smiled hesitantly.

"I'm sure a gal like you knows how to look sexy up there," Violet told me.

"I'll try," I promised.