I like the girls that do drugs. Girls with cigarettes in the back of the club.

The music blared as you sat on the couch at Buck Merrill’s party. You were wearing a little black dress and heels. In one hand you had a lit cigarette, a drink in the other. As you took another sip of your drink, somebody caught your eye… Dallas Winston. He was already looking at you when your gaze shifted to him.

He walked over to you. “Hey, sweetheart. What’s such a good-lookin’ broad doin’ all alone?”