The Boy Who Wanted to Be A Rock Star Part 2

I saw her on the dancefloor right away when I entered. She wore red, her stilletos cast sparks, her arms were swirling flames. Her hair a smoky cloud. Going faster that I could drive, oh, yeah, rollin' an' tumblin', shaking and twisting, a shaman with the body of a prize stripper.

There were, of course, people, people bumping into her, maybe men ogling her, sweet Norwegian students in reindeer pullovers on their innocent high, other girls, whatever, I simply didn't zoom them into the picture. I did zoom in the bar though, I needed something to fight the adrenaline rush with. I can't remember what music played, what alcohol burned my tongue, I can't remember anything except Ned dancing in perfect silence, all alone.