“You’ll come to visit again, won’t you daisy?” Her father’s voice rung in her head as she lay in bed, once again unable to sleep. The past few weeks had been much of the same – she tried to do better, but the nightmares made it impossible to sleep. She dreamed of Sadie and Vernon and her father. She dreamed of Texas, both past, and present. She had promised her father she wouldn’t disappear again but just the thought of going back to that place made her heart race.  Sometimes she even dreamed of Gavin, although she hadn't seen him since their trip to Texas. 

Lately, she’d had another person on her mind as well, a man she’d met a few times but who she never really saw until a few nights ago, when he’d taken her horribly drunk self home from an after-party she had attended. She couldn’t even fully remember the night, but she knew he had been a gentleman, that he had driven her back where she would be safe and tried to sober her up before she got there. Why she couldn’t get him out of her head she wasn’t sure but in a rather impulsive moment, she dragged herself out of bed and decided she would go and find him again.

She took more time to get ready tonight then she normally did; she did remember that the man had made a few comments about her appearance. Not that any of them were wrong, in truth, she had looked like shit that night. But while she couldn’t make the dark circles under her eyes disappear instantly, she could cover them in makeup. She could curl her hair and pick out a flattering outfit for her thin frame. She settled on one of those perfect little black dresses that showed off all the right curves and a pair of pumps, not that she wasn’t already tall enough, but she loved the feeling of being the center of attention and her height was usually one of the first things people noticed about her.

Madeline realized that she didn’t actually know where the man lived; thankfully, given her position in New York, it wasn’t all that hard to find out. A few well-placed phone calls and she had an address. It wasn’t too far from her own home and this was the city that never slept, so Madeline decided to walk.

That was her first mistake.

Along the way, Madeline ran into some…well, she couldn’t call them friends. Acquaintances? People she did drugs with? She really didn’t care how she described them because at that moment they were dawing her in. Despite her best intentions, it didn’t take long for them to convince her to join them for a little fun. She stayed away from the alcohol but snorted a few lines of coke before she finally continued to her final destination.

Knock knock knock

She wondered if he was sleeping. She wondered why in the world she thought it was appropriate to show up at his door unannounced, especially in the middle of the night. Yet, the feeling of invincibility given to her by the coke she’d snorted on the way here made her squash her best judgments. After all, she was Madeline. She was hot and she was wearing a skimpy outfit. He wouldn’t turn her away. Would he?

The night had been a successful one. He had performed brilliantly on stage and found a pair of ladies who were very appreciative of his talents on and off stage. After ..thanking them profusely, Alexander returned to his loft downtown. Every time he entered the place, it took him a moment to familiarize himself with the luxurious interior. For someone who had spent his nights sleeping on park benches and scrounging for food, it would never be easy to take the materialistic comforts for granted.

Eager to catch an early night, he decided to take a quick shower. Stripping off the suit, he tossed it into a corner and stepped into the shower. His current favorite record played on the radio he had installed in his bathroom. Letting the warm beads of water caress his skin gently as they dragged the weariness below with them, he sang along to the song, losing himself to the groove. 

Right as his voice was about to rise in time with the chorus, he heard a faint knock. Confused, he turned the radio down and stepped out of the shower, closing it behind him. His hosts, The Maldonado Family had provided a guard whose presence downstairs deterred even the most persistent of unwanted visitors. He distinctly remembered informing the guy that he did not wish to be disturbed. So, if someone was somehow still knocking on his door, his guard had probably been persuaded or suffered a worse fate. 

He wondered if he should arm himself with a lamp or a kitchen knife but quickly gave up that idea. When the knock recurred, albeit louder, he understood that whoever it was that had managed to ruin his peace would hardly be affected by his feeble attempts at self-defense. Choosing to adopt a verbal approach to sort things out as the knock resounded a third time he grabbed a nearby towel and shouted out irritated "I'm coming! I'm coming! No need to get your knickers in a twist." He quickly dried himself off as best as he could before wrapping the fabric around his waist. 

The moonlight streaming in from a nearby window bathed his slightly toned body and the intricately designed tattoo, that led from the side of his neck down to parts unknown below the towel, in a strange luminescent hue. Slowly walking barefoot to the door he took in a few deep breaths to calm himself, unsure of what lay at the other side.

As he unlocked the door and pulled it open, he saw the woman seemingly impatient with her fist raised, about to bang on the door yet again. Of all the things, he thought he would see, she in all her ravishing glory was not something he had expected. The woman looked good, really good. Almost as if a lot of effort had gone into her appearance. The sight was rather alluring and he was tempted to pull her in by the wrist without exchanging words. 

It would be a horrible idea, but he felt he may not be able to resist. But then he saw it, the telltale snowy residue of a nose that had been active recently. He frowned and placed an arm against the doorframe blocking the entrance as the other held onto the knotted towel causally. He gazed at her half disappointed in her and the path she was leading to and half guilty for desiring her nonetheless. A smile appeared on his face, the edges of which never reached his eyes, as he asked coldly "Yes?"

Madeline hadn’t realized how many times she’d been knocking, but she figured if he was asleep she might need to wake him up. When she heard his slightly annoyed voice announcing that he was coming, she giggled. She thought of a million responses to the knickers comment, but the moment he opened the door they were gone from her mind.

He wore only a towel and it was a glorious sight. Her eyes traveled along his physique, taking in the outlines of the muscles and the tattoo that traveled below the towel. She wondered if it had a special meaning – something so large had to have a meaning behind it.

She was pleased when she felt his eyes on her in the same sort of way. But his demeanor seemed to shift when his eyes reached her face and the arm he placed against the door frame seemed to be meant to bar her entry. Despite the smile that tugged at his lips, she could tell he wasn’t pleased to see her. She shifted where she stood, suddenly feeling silly for being there dressed the way she was. Madeline usually didn’t care when people were judging her, she embraced who she was. But for some reason, this man’s disappointment seemed to hit home.

“Hi.” She had no idea what else to say; she’d randomly decided to show up at his house at an ungodly hour and here he was looking like he looked. She bit her bottom lip, looking down at the ground for a moment and then looking back up at him. “I was nearby and I couldn’t sleep…”

Madeline had no idea why she would come here, so how could she explain it to him? "I'm sorry, I'll just go." What was wrong with her, why did this man make her so nervous? 

Alexander watched the uncertainty envelop her eyes. As she sighed and turned around to leave, his hand seemingly with a mind of its own reached out and grabbed her wrist. Her head snapped back to look at his hand clenching her and then to his eyes. Letting her hand slip through his fingers he sighed and stepped aside. Gesturing to the room beside him, he whispered  "Come on in."  He knew letting her in was a terrible idea, but he also knew refusing her shelter from the storm she had found herself in would lead to terrible worse consequences. Who knew where she might end up in her fragile state. He didn't want that on his conscience.

As she stepped past him and into the room, he spared a glance at her curves while closing the door. The sight made him lick his lips as he wondered what they might feel like to the touch. Shaking his head he smiled and admonished himself aking to a diabetic man lusting after dessert. "Have a seat somewhere while I go find some clothes." He said politely before moving into a room nearby. Pulling a pair of boxers over his feet he untied the towel and wiped his head while wondering exactly what lay on her mind to depress her so. Dropping the towel on a nearby chair, he picked up a shirt and pulled his arms through it. Lazily buttoning it halfway up, he ran his fingers through his air and reemerged into the living area. 

"There are camels in just about every drawer around here if you want to have a smoke."  He said with a sheepish grin, embarrassed by the poor hospitality he was capable of. Ducking into the kitchen, he pulled a pitcher of iced tea out of the fridge and poured it into two glasses. "You look good by the way," He shouted from the kitchen. Picking up the two glasses he returned to the living are while saying "Were you headed somewhere or is this all for my benefit?"  Placing the glasses on the table in front of them he sat down to her left on the couch. While he leaned down to pull out a pack of camels, the edge of his tattoo peeked out from below his boxer on the back of his right thigh. 

He pulled out a single cigarette and tossed the pack on the table while placing the cigarette in his mouth. Slowly lighting the cigarette, he closed his eyes and took a long drag, feeling the familiar burn at the back of his throat as he did. Facing the roof, he let the smoke cascade out of his nose and disappear into thin air above him. Flicking the ash off his cigarette, he turned towards her. His elbow rested next to her shoulder and his knee brushed against hers while he gazed into her eyes through the smoke. 

With a childish grin, he held her graze and whispered "Hi"

When his fingers grasped her wrist, it surprised her. Turning back towards him, her eyes searched for an answer. He let go of her arm almost as quickly as he grabbed it, stepping aside and motioning for her to enter. Madeline hesitated, even though it was she who had randomly shown up at his door.

Despite the moment of hesitation, she stepped into the room and glanced around, not really sure what to expect from his home. “If you must,” was her response when he talked about going to get dressed. Luckily for her, when he came back he was still dressed rather sparingly, which she was pleased by. If he’d felt the need to get fully dressed she’d have worried that he didn’t find her as attractive as she’d have thought. Or that maybe he just didn’t swing her way.

“I don’t smoke, actually.” She smiled at the thought; after all, she did just about every other kind of drug you could imagine, but she didn't smoke cigarettes. "Those things will kill you, you know."

She found her way to the couch, sitting and crossing her legs, her dress riding up as she did. When he returned with two glasses of iced tea, she was amused. Most men served her alcohol, but she was quickly starting to realize that Alex wasn’t like most men.

She noticed the peak of the tattoo on his thigh and she was even more curious to see the full thing. She’d never had the courage to get one of her own – the thought of the pain involved outweighed the desire. He lit a cigarette and took a drag before he turned back to her and it seemed they both found the situation just a little awkward. She found his childish grin adorable though and it caused her to laugh softly.

“Hi.” She grinned in return for a moment before picking up one of the glasses of iced tea and sipping it quietly. Putting it back on the table, she thought about how to best answer his question. In reality, her appearance had been for him, but she couldn’t actually tell him that, it was far too desperate for her. “Well, after the other night I figured I shouldn’t be seen quite so run down anymore. I have to say, it’s not very often someone tells me I look like shit. I didn’t want it becoming a habit.”

Her response elicited a dry chuckle from his throat.  "I'd much rather die smoking a cigarette than at the wrong end of a gun." He replied in an amused tone. Considering all the vices she indulged in, he found it hilarious that she avoided cigarettes 

As he sat opposite her, the sweet sound of her laughter resonated in his ears bringing with it the melodic undertone of momentary bliss. She had stopped caring about whatever had ailed her and had reacted to the present. Her carefully worded answer though told him the reaction had only been momentary and that she had gone back to her usual guarded self. "Curious how you decided not to be seen so run down when most have been content with not being so run down. " He paused to flash an intriguing smile. The end of the cigarette flashed an amber hue as he inhaled sharply. 

His eyes stayed on hers as he moved the cigarette aside and let wisps of smoke escape out of his mouth. Desire briefly overcame him and he stretched out his hand halfway to her beautiful face only to hesitate and pull away nonchalantly in the end.  "Any time you need someone to call you out on your less than perfect appearance I'd be more than happy to comply." He teased as he turned his head away from her almost as if he could not trust his own self if he kept looking at her.

He wanted to ask her what troubled her so, and why she chose to find solace with him. But he got the vague sense that she was not quite ready to face the answers herself. So his questions about her problems remained silent. Instead, he stood up and walked over to the stereo in the living room. As he switched it on and the melody entered his ears he found himself moving to the beat unconsciously. Turning back towards a seemingly bemused Madeline, he winked and offered his palm, daring her to forget everything else for a few more moments.

“Not me,” Madeline responded, glad for once to have something else to focus her attention on but the events of the past few weeks. “Guns are quick and easy. These things kill you slow. When I go, I’d rather go out fast.”

It was clear she’d thought about such things, but not in a melancholy sort of way. Death was as much a part of their life as crime or money. You never knew when you went to bed at night what would happen and if you’d open your eyes the next morning.

His next statement gave her pause. Was there really a difference between the two? Well yes, but Madeline wasn’t so sure she was ready not to be so run down. She was still working through events that had occurred and, really, was it not at least a step in the direction that she was trying not to look so run down? It was better than nothing at least.

She didn’t respond to him, however, not quite ready for that heavy of a conversation. They stared at each other a few moments in silence, although it wasn’t uncomfortable, not for her at least. For a moment she thought he was going to brush his fingers against her cheek, but he stopped, making a comment about commenting on her appearance instead.

“Oh would you? I’ll keep that in mind. Although I must warn you, my appearance the other night was an exception, not a rule,” she smirked slightly, her voice teasing. "If you were constantly insulting me I might start to question your judgment."

As she responded he was on his feet, moving to flip on the stereo, to which he almost immediately started to dance. She chuckled softly at the sight of him and when he turned to offer her his hand she placed her iced tea back on the table and stood without hesitation. She was already coming down from her high but at that moment she barely even noticed.

She had always been free spirited; as a young girl, she had lived her own life, always with Sadie by her side. She'd lost herself under Vernon, as he did everything he could to mold her into what he wanted her to be. When she moved to New York and became Madeline, she'd found a new version of herself, one that was shaken to its core after her recent trip back home to Texas. But it was moments like these, twirling and dancing with a handsome man, that would help remind her who she really was no matter what name she chose to go by.

"Little late to be questioning my judgement, wouldn't you agree?" He teased as he pulled her towards him. Sidestepping her as she approached, he lifted his arm and spun her around with practised ease. Alexander had never quite been a great dancer, but he was good enough to fool most people and when you've worked in bars most of your life, fooling people is all that gets you tips. 

Tugging her in close, he placed his palm on the small of her back. Gently resting it inches above her hips clad in black fabric. As the music changed to something slower and instrumental he stepped in closer than was appropriate. The cigarette hung loosely from his lips as he looked off to a side while moving, trying to ignore her intoxicating scent. The words came out of his lips without any flamboyant prelude or expression of grandeur. He inched his way towards her, bathed in the shadowy mystique of the unevenly placed lights, reflected by the darkness in her eyes. 

Blue jean baby, L.A. lady, seamstress for the band
Pretty eyed, pirate smile, you'll marry a music man
Ballerina, you must have seen her dancing in the sand
And now she's in me, always with me, tiny dancer in my hand

Jesus freaks out in the street
Handing tickets out for God
Turning back she just laughs
The boulevard is not that bad

Piano man he makes his stand
In the auditorium
Looking on she sings the songs
The words she knows, the tune she hums

The sound weaselled its way out of his throat as he led her around slowly dancing to the tune. A smile permanently plastered on his face as he spun her around and continued as he gave her arm a gentle squeeze.

But oh how it feels so real
Lying here with no one near
Only you and you can hear me
When I say softly, slowly

Hold me closer tiny dancer
Count the headlights on the highway
Lay me down in sheets of linen
You had a busy day today

As the song came to a close he reluctantly tore his eyes away from hers and spun her towards the view of the city out of his large floor to ceiling windows. Embracing her from behind he held onto her waist and rested his chin on top of her head as the two of them gazed at the moon hidden partially in the soft embrace of a cloud. They existed in a bubble of their own making. The problems of the past and the questions of the future had no place amongst them.

Madeline had heard him sing before, so she knew he had an excellent voice, but there was something about hearing it in that setting, just the two of them, that sent shivers down her back. He spun her around, presumably fighting the same urges she was, although she wasn’t quite sure why. She’d served herself up to him tonight and never had she seen a man show such restraint. It was confusing to her, honestly.

There were times she felt that she took this city for granted and this moment was one of them. The view was stunning, the lights twinkling, the moon peeking out from behind the cloud. She knew there was no city she would rather live in, not now and not ever. Everything was quiet and comfortable, their breathing nearly in sync as she leaned against him. She felt the most relaxed that she had since she returned.

But the moment was too real for Madeline. She didn’t do vulnerability or romance very well. She didn’t make connections with people, not like this, not often. So, after a few moments, she was pulling away from him, slightly flustered.  

“I should go.” She pushed her hand through her hair, taking a deep breath. “Thank you for humoring me at such a late hour.” She turned back towards him, her eyes taking him in once more as she bit her bottom lip.

With a reluctant shrug, he escorted her to the door. Turning to look at her out of the corner of his eye he tried to surmise her internal struggle but found he that he couldn't. He didn't know which side was winning out but he knew there was a battle raging within. Her decision to abruptly leave didn't really aggravate him too much for he could tell he wasn't what she had been expecting when she made the decision to arrive at his door late at night. 

With a sombre kiss on the cheek, he bid her adieu. As she stepped out the door he teased her with a playful grin  "Bring some food next time and wear something comfortable." 

Once she was gone, he slowly meandered back to the same spot they had stood at, briefly gazing at the city lights. The cigarette burned away to the butt by itself as he stood unmoving. He knew his time in the city was nearing its end. The troubadour within him was searching for a new horizon. And yet he was loath to fly away to another world lest she crumbles in the silence left in his aftermath. After several moments of quiet contemplation, with a forlorn sigh, he turned away from the view and perhaps the responsibility he had adopted when he offered her shelter.