You were recruited by Andy Warhol as his muse. After a few months, you had become a star being in his films, his little star. One night you were attending a factory party. That is where you met Billy Quinn. He was tall, mysterious, and handsome, catching your eye quickly. He approached you with a smirk amongst his lips. “Hey, what’s your name?” He asks, peering down at you with dazzling blue eyes.