Don't ask me where this idea came from. Just enjoy the fanfic!
It might be a while before it's updated: I'm in the middle of something else too.

Disclaimer: I own no characters or settings. The only character I own is Rami. Contains bad language, but do you really blame her?

I swayed gently to the music, trying to lose the world in the indistinct melody.

My name is Rami, I've got shoulder length black hair, and I'm told I'm quite slender. I don't normally frequent clubs like this, only when I need to take my thoughts off life. Which is why I probably looked out of place: all dressed up in red and black. Dark mascara was painted across my lashes, outlining a much paler green eye.

As I said, I'm not the sort to go out like this. Only when I have to.

"Hey there!" a voice tried to get my attention, just about audible over the pumping music. If you could call it music.

"Yeah?" I called back, not turning. I didn't want to look at the flashing lights: they hurt my eyes.

"You look uncomfortable" the voice joked. A tall, thick-set man in a trench coat walked past me, sitting down on a small stool the other side of my table. I couldn't see his face clearly; most of the club was in complete darkness. The flashing lights weren't enough to illuminate the room, especially when they were all focused around whatever was happening a dozen metres behind me.

"You don't come here often" the man decided

"Why, you a regular?" I half shouted to be heard over the music.

"Nah, you just look out of place"

"Is it that obvious?" I laughed

"Afraid so" the stranger responded. I made out is hair colour in a rare momentary beam of light: he was blonde, with a little stubble, and his hair growing down to just past his chin.

Why was he even talking to me? If it was so obvious I didn't belong here, couldn't he tell I was just trying to be alone?

"Come on" the man got up suddenly, grabbing my hand as he started to walk away.

"Hey!" I resisted, pulling my arm back, "Hey, what do you think you're doing?"

"You want to fit in, don't you?"

"With this crowd? Um, no thanks" I pulled my hand back, taking a sip of my drink. I didn't know what it was: it was a pale red, and tasted good, slightly tangy and fruity.

"Why'd you come here then?" the long blonde haired stranger sat down again.

"To escape" I didn't feel like talking about it.

"That settles it" the man got up again. Did he get paid each time he stood up or something? "You have to blend in"

"I'm sure I said no"

"Come on, it'll be nothing. Just a dance" the man shrugged, grabbing my hand again.

"I'm not like that" I tried to pull my hand away

"I mean that literally: just a dance. Nothing more if you don't want to. Besides, if you don't come then I'll have to stay here and annoy you"

"I said no" I sighed, looking down into my swirling reddish drink.

"You keep sitting here and half the club will be coming after ya."

He had a point.

"I just want to be left alone" I sighed, taking another sip.

"You think they'll listen?"

"Fine" I groaned, draining my drink and getting up too, "One dance, that's it"

"Wouldn't ask for more" the man cracked a grin as he lead me through the flashing club.

()

I groaned slightly, opening my eyes before snapping them shut again. Too bright. My head was pounding. What had happened? I opened my eyes a crack, slowly, trying to see through the almost blinding light.

"You're pretty good" the stranger grinned, pulling me closer. I giggled a little.

Ok, did I really want to remember? Maybe not.

I opened my eyes further, taking in the room. It was my house, that was a good start. I recognized the whitewashed walls and golden brown planks of the floor. Golden brown planks covered in…oh no.

"You know I said just a dance?" the man whispered, resting his head on my shoulder. I was trembling a little, but I didn't really understand why. His hand moved lower down my back than was comfortable.

I stared down at the floor, seeing a huge white trench coat sprawled across it. Shit. That's the last time I'm drinking any alcohol. Well, it had to be the alcohol, I'm just not the kind of person who…

Something shifted behind me.

Ok, not good. Really, not good. Now what was I supposed to do, what was I supposed to say? What did people say at times like this anyway? I hadn't exactly had much practice.

The lump behind me moaned, sounding as if it was just waking up too. Ok, so he is still here. Great.

I shifted slightly, trying to move away from him. My mind was a blur. I couldn't quite remember what we'd done. Had we done anything? Oh, don't be naïve Rami, you don't wake up in bed with a guy, with his coat on the floor, and probably with the rest of his clothes on the other side of the bed, without having done something.

And he was…shit. I didn't even know his name. I am not like this. I don't jump into bed with random guys, I just don't. I blame the alcohol. Shit.

Then again, maybe it was the stress. We'd just moved down to Pulse, that's bound to affect you somehow. Most of us had lost nearly everything: ok, the Fall happened a year or so ago, but coupled with recent events… And alcohol…

I scanned the floor, trying to figure out a way out of this. Was there even a way out of this full stop?

I frowned; there was a small card on the floor. It'd probably slipped out of the trench coat's pocket. Just within reach. Inhaling slowly, I reached down, trying not to rouse the stranger behind me any more. Slowly, I pulled the card across the floor, before pinching and bringing it up.

It was an ID, something the Sanctum had come up with. The cards let them keep count of who was still around, just in case there were any unforeseen problems with living on Pulse.

In the top left corner, there was a picture of the man: he'd taken off the bandanna-hat thing he'd been wearing yesterday for the photo, so I could see his pale blonde hair clearly. He had blue eyes.

Bored, I skimmed through the text on the right. Age: 23. Hometown: New Bodhum. Height: 200cm. Right handed. Status:-

The complete and utter bastard.

Status: married.

I quickly looked beneath his portrait, reading his name. Snow Villiers.

I reread the card, just to double check it wasn't a mistake. It didn't look like one, and that picture definitely showed him.

I elbowed Snow hard, twice, until his eyes flew open and he leapt back, getting off the bed.

"Get dressed, and get out" I tried to contain my anger as I turned to face him, keeping myself covered under the duvet.

"Rami…" Snow spoke, as if trying to make excuses.

"Get dressed, and get out" I repeated, watching him pull his outer clothes on.

"What is-"

"I refuse to be some casual affair" I interrupted him.

"Ah" he tensed slightly, walking around the foot of his bed to get his coat. "I can explain-"

"Get the fuck out!" I shouted, anger surging through me. I've had enough of cheating boyfriends, let alone husbands.

Slightly taken aback by my fury, Snow stepped back, leaving the room. I heard him walk out the door.

Good riddance.

I panted slightly, trying to calm myself down. Come to think of it, he had been wearing a necklace. I thought it was just jewellery, not an engagement pendant.

That's the last time I go to a club. Ever.

That's when I looked down and realized his ID card was lying on the ground.

I picked it up, not sure whether I meant to give it back to the bastard or not, when I saw the other side. Like many people I knew, he'd scrawled several phone numbers along the plain white back of the card.

Well, revenge and a service in one go.

I don't know if it was residual anger or what, but I felt the need to hurt this 'Snow'. Not physically, but he still deserved something. And with these numbers, well, I could tell the truth. Tell them what he'd done. It would hurt at the time but I knew, if I was his wife, I'd want to know.

I dialled the first number on the back of the card, with my mobile phone, in my bedside cabinet drawer, reading the name.

"Hello?" a high, kind voice spoke through my mobile. I felt a pang of guilt for the pain I was going to cause her.

"Hello, my name is Rami. Is this Serah Villiers?"

"Yes" she sounded confused.

"Please, don't hang up. I need to tell you something about your husband."

()

Far, far away, in a field just outside of New Bodhum, a blonde, long haired man with blue eyes, black gloves, a black bandanna, and a white trench coat woke up, head pounding. His memory wasn't clear, but he felt like he'd been knocked out. Judging by the position of the Sun, it looked like he'd been out there all night.