Then One Day They Met

Burrs rubbed his hands together, before grabbing the girl by the waist. He pressed his lips against her neck, kissing frantically. He needed something, anything to feel alive, and this was good enough for him. Encouraged by her moaning, he started pressing harder, until he bit at her neck. She whimpered and he pushed her away in disgust. They never came tough enough…..Sighing he went back to the dingy dressing room, getting ready to go onstage. He didn't like this. He hated moving around, girl to girl. There was no one who understood him, no one spectacular, special. One day he'd find her, that special girl, the one who could send him over the top! One day she'd just appear…

"Then one day they met", came a husky voice from the corner. He hadn't realized he had been speaking aloud.

"Who are you?" he asked angrily.

"Folks call me Queenie", she said, sauntering lazily into the room. His eyes followed her long legs as she stretched against the wall. She blinked up at him angelically. She was easily the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her skin was milk-pale, and she had short honey-blond ringlets that contrasted with her blood-red lips that he could tell were not lipsticked. She raised her eyes to meet his and he almost flinched. They were a startling grey, glimmering with an inner intelligence and vulnerability, so different from the dull and empty blues and browns he was used to.

"Burrs", he replied. "Now what's a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this Queenie?"

"It pays the rent", she sighed, leaning against the wall. "And the tips are good."

"How much do you charge?" He asked teasingly, examining her body, not covered by her tiny white dress.

"Well that depends", said Queenie. "Am I that special girl?"

He smirked wordlessly as he took her by the hand, and led her out of the dressing room.

Burrs almost smiled as he remembered that fateful day, despite the shooting pain in his abdomen. He felt small hands on the gunshot wound, and looked up to see Queenie desperately trying to staunch it. He knew it wasn't going to work, so why should he care? He looked her in the eyes anyways and saw everything in there that couldn't be said: I'm so sorry, this should have never happened, I love you Burrsie. She was still the same girl she had been three years ago; strong and confident on the outside, but too guarded to let anyone see that secretly she was scared, lost, and insecure. As he fell onto the bed, and heard Queenie begin to cry softly, he smiled. You were that special girl, Queenie.