Wanted: the wrong sort of attention [open]

[annabelle]

The loud thumping of a bass echoing up and down the neon-lit alleyways attracted Annabelle like no other scene could. The night life in New York City was famous for being wild, classy and an experience worth... well, not remembering. Tonight was the first night in the City, and she had specifically rented herself a penthouse that was close enough to all the hot clubs, and far enough where drunkards and druggies would lose interest in following her home. The walk was dimly lit, but if you stuck to your own, no one was bound to notice you anyway.

Her dark eyes skimmed over her choices. She could spend the rest of her life in the City and not hit all of the hot spots. But then again, who knew how long life was anyway? Her parents certainly hadn't, and their deaths fueled her reckless behavior. She had enough funding to last the rest of her life, and she couldn't give a damn what happened. Vienna had been nice, Venice was home, and she had traveled over the rest of Europe before deciding to take a journey across the pond to the infamous New York. Infamous, but alluring.

The tight dress she wore tonight sported a neckline that cut dangerously low about her breasts and a hemline that came down only to the middle of her well-toned thighs. Working out was one of the only things important to her. She had an image to maintain, after all. Her curves were accented by the outfit, and the high-heeled stilettos only made her more noticeable. It was just as well, really. She wanted to attract attention tonight. The wrong sort of attention.

Two drinks later, she found herself feeling up for a dance. She wasn't intoxicated; not by any means. Belle had enough experience drinking to keep herself from loosing control that easily. She stepped into the middle of the crowded dance floor and began swaying her hips to the music, every movement sensual and inviting to male and female alike. Her dark eyes roved the room, looking to attract someone with each twist of her body. Innocence had fled Annabelle's presence long ago. She knew life was about getting what you wanted, and what she wanted now was a hot pair of lips and roving hands.

All she needed was someone to take her.

[wesdaniels]

The bass thumping had felt like home to Wes, more so than he wanted. He came to New York a few days earlier in hopes of an interesting trip, though he saw nothing new other than faces. Wesley wore a black t-shirt that had been tightly fit to his body, a top that he sported his light brown jacket, nothing too fancy. He covered his legs with dark green jeans, almost black in comparison. Holding up those jeans was his dark brown belt, the buckle was in the shape of a golden star surrounded by a golden circle. His dark brown eyes scanned the area for the bar table, he'd indulge himself in a drink at least, perhaps even move around club for a bit. He was new here, yes, but he did feel like making a lasting impression on those around him. Wesley's hair had still been wet from the shower he took before coming to the club, so it looked shorter than it usually had.

The strobe-lights of the club made his mind flash lightly, it was almost awe-striking that some one hadn't had a seizure here yet. He felt sorry for the epileptics who would stroll in every so often just to find out they needed to leave for their own safety. If the lights were giving him problems, then he didn't dare think what it did to them. Though, ever since his change, his eyes had become more sensitive, a long with his sense of smell. Moving to the front table, he slid three bills across, he'd made an order for three shots. That'd at least get him started, would it make him feel anything? No. Wesley had proudly formed a name for himself as a good drinker, often taking part in drinking people under the table.

It wasn't much to be proud about, he knew that for a fact. Though, he wouldn't ever be caught dead at an AA meeting that was for sure. He had a rather large ego when it came down to it, and that was probably his weakness. He shrugged those thoughts from his mind as he downed the first shooter that slid his way. The light burn on his throat let him know that he'd just taken it straight without chaser. Well, what alcohol didn't do to him, the beast would finish its job anyways. The night was fine though, a full moon hadn't been predicted in a matter of days, so he felt oddly comfortable tonight. Leaning back on the long stretch of table he scanned the dance floor for somebody interesting, perhaps someone who he probably wouldn't see again.

Then, he spotted a woman making her way to the dance floor. She was good looking, possibly enough to put the rest in the room to shame, but he didn't dare go that far. With a light chuckle under his breath he took that last two shooters and started to make his way to the woman; not before tossing a mint in his mouth to kill the weird smell of the alcohol he'd just drank. He moved with a confident stride to his step, something he did often that complimented his large ego. Finally within speaking distance he started off. "Hey, my names Wesley, thought I should introduce myself,"

[annabelle]

The lights flashing across her pale skin, decorated with a hint of a tan, weren't as exhilarating as they had been when she first started clubbing. The novelty of getting down and dirty with a total stranger had worn off a long time ago. Annabelle wasn't interested in forming relationships or staying in one place for very long. She had the money to live as she pleased, and she used that to her advantage. The penthouse a few blocks away was very upscale and had all the luxuries she wanted, plus a nice view of the city. She didn't appreciate the amount of effort humanity had put into creating that view. It was pretty and therefore, it served her purposes. If things weren't pretty, they weren't worth her time.

That might have seemed like an arrogant attitude for an eighteen-year-old to have, but she was young. Young and free spirited, and not interested in settling down or keeping her nose clean and out of trouble. The more trouble she could find herself, the better. Before she moved, she had had quite the reputation for having multiple boy toys. No respectable host had thrown a party without inviting her. Soon, she would establish the same reputation here. For now, she was just another face in the crowd. Well, not exactly. Hers was an exceptionally pretty face after all, and the clinginess of her clothing didn't leave much to the imagination. It was just as well. That was the way she wanted it, after all.

For a few moments she danced by herself, suggestively rotating her hips and boldly meeting the gaze of anyone who looked her way. She wouldn't be alone for long. She never was. Running a hand through the roots of her long dark hair, her eyes skimmed the dance floor for a possible partner. There were several good looking guys and a few pretty blondes, but it was the confident male heading in her direction that caught her gaze. She didn't stop dancing, but she kept her eyes on him as he approached. A little closer, and he would be hers.

Her lips curled into a coy little smile as he introduced himself. Wesley. She hadn't had a Wesley before. "A wise choice," She practically purred, moving a bit closer to him as she continued to sway her hips. "What... ah, inspired you to come over and say 'hello'?" Her eyes glanced up at him, knowing the answer already. She had been trying to attract attention and she had found some in the form of a man who looked slightly older than she was. No matter; age hadn't made a difference to her before. "Of course, if you don't dance, I don't want to hear the answer." A small smirk formed on her face as she lightly ran a finger down the front of his broad chest, encouraging him to close the distance between them.

[wesdaniels]

"What... ah, inspired you to come over and say 'hello'?"

"Well, to be honest. Saw someone I didn't know, plus a pretty face," he stopped talking for a moment and closed in distance, beginning to dance. "Usually lures me in," he wasn't really lying that was most of the reason he had approached her. It was pretty obvious seeing as they didn't know each other, but that hadn't stopped him before. He'd met a lot of different people at clubs, that was probably the same reason he came here tonight - well, that and the full moon wasn't out. He stared her in the eyes, he didn't want to come off as self-conscious. Even if he had been, it didn't really matter to him what impression he made. The beats kept him moving, hell and thank god for that, he probably wouldn't be able to pull off anything with out a beat. He kept pace with the on going rhythm, it was easy to do, but it was obvious she was the better of the two.

"Of course, if you don't dance, I don't want to hear the answer."

Little bit of bite to this one apparently, not like the others. Wes gave a small smirk and kept himself moving. Movement, thats really all it took, guys didn't have curves or the body to pull off moves like she was and frankly, he didn't want to put out that kind of image. He didn't really want to draw the wrong crowd out, that'd just be awkward in his own case. "Wouldn't have come over if I didn't want to dance," in his mind he back tracked over the words, it made sense, to him at least. He didn't mind admitting that he was a bad dancer, to be frank, he was, but to pass up a chance with this girl that'd be reckless. He saw why the others hadn't approached her though, those damn eyes, demanding. Apparently the men in the room had fear of a woman with a little bit of attitude, and apparently Wesley didn't.

"So, I didn't catch your name," Wes had given his name out like freaking candy. Probably shouldn't have, but he didn't see the harm in it, its not like they knew each other, or ever run into one another again. Plus, he lived in Hollywood and he preferred there than to the place he stayed in New York. He didn't complain though, it was a nice place, not located in the greatest area but nice none the less.

[annabelle]

A small smirk crossed her face as he mentioned the fine attributes of her face. Yes, it was all about looks, and she didn't mind. After all, that was why she had dressed in such a risque outfit. Her body was honey for the flies. That was a horrible reputation to have, and most of society frowned on it, but most of society didn't want to have the fun she wanted to have. Nightlife was her life. She would stay out into the early hours of the morning and sleep until the beginning of the afternoon. After that, the cycle continued. She couldn't remember the last time she was up before the sunrise because she wanted to be. Responsibilities were for the poor, something she certainly wasn't.

She looked right back into his eyes, the smirk growing as he mentioned that he wanted to dance. Good. And as for her name... well, that was easy enough to give out. She leaned forward slightly so she could bring her lips close to his ear, speaking just loud enough to be heard over the music. "Annabelle." Her voice was a soft, slow murmur, her breath misting across his upper neck. "A pleasure to meet you." There would be more of that pleasure by the end of the night, if not with him, then with someone else. Her eyes showed it as she pulled back away from him, her hands moving down to his hips. She moved her own body closer to his, so close they were practically touching. If this was too close for him, she would find another partner, but she knew men. Seldom did they have standards that refused this sort of attention.

"Are you from the City, Wesley?" She asked, her hands staying on his sides as they moved to the beat. Her eyes traced over his form before settling back on his face. Annabelle certainly wasn't shy. "You must meet a lot of girls this way." Of course, he hadn't met anyone like her. Belle was in a class of her own, a class most people frowned on. She lived, whether people liked it or not. She made the most out of her life through actions that weren't as righteous as they should have been. A different partner every night... it was as commonplace as day and night. Finding people like this was as simple as taking a walk down the street. Society could frown all they wanted at her, but there were a lot more people like her than it was realized. They just didn't have the guts to show off.

[wesdaniels]

"Annabelle."

Wes ran the name over in his mind, Annabelle, hm. He'd never met an Annabelle before, then again, he didn't usually dance either. When she grabbed his hips he decided that it was time that he made his own move. He laid his hands on her lower back and moved closer; in the back of his mind he could have sworn she checked him out, then again he was doing the same. It was hard not to, but he wouldn't admit it, not flat out like that. "The pleasures mine, Annabelle," Wesley's Austrian accent was slightly mixed with the American that he'd picked up living in the country. He was born in Hollywood, but his father had been German and his mother Austrian, quite a mix up. He kept himself steady to the beat, trying not to mess up and toss in a few moves himself, though again, she was the better.

"Are you from the City, Wesley?"

"Not this one. I was born in Hollywood, California," Wes said with little enthusiasm to his voice. Quite frankly he'd wanted to go to Austria or Germany, even if just for a couple of days it'd be his homeland. He held three homelands apparently, all three had exotic getaways and such. Though he'd grown up in America and he would always have a love for Hollywood, even if he complained about it from time to time. "My store is there, home too obviously," he let a half smile half chuckle go, even if she didn't take interest the least he could do was talk a bit. The flashing lights had gotten the best of his eyes, and with that the wide open gaze had blurred into a slight squint. His eyes were sensitive, very sensitive.

The gold color on his belt buckle had been lit up like the fourth of July in that room, possibly because it wasn't real gold. He just liked the buckle for its design, he wasn't really a person for flashy things or material possessions, unless you called a guitar such a possession.