It really has no plot quite yet but I felt like posting it to get some feedback on the style in which I'm writing.
Wind whipping her bright bubblegum pink hair in a wild flail as her fingers tighten on the throttle. Head lower. Broad smile. Eyes wide open and the purr of the six hundred forty-five cc's roaring between her thighs. She shotgunned down the windy roads laid precariously on the frills of the monument, slamming down the curves with zealous resolve; bike tilted at such acute angles her knees nearly kiss asphalt. Ahh, she thought, this is bliss.
And what a sight she was. Like the disappointed motor queen prom date she was (Blue Dress. High Heels. Biker Leathers.) she let out a tremendous scream, a hardcore guttural growl in blackest of heavy metal. What better place to scream than here? How could he do this to me!!
Fathers.
Love daddy but why is he such a jerk?
“... totally unacceptable, Jayme! I am not going to allow you to sacrifice the hours of training you've put into this. To just throw it away on this... this... guy. I know its you're prom, honey, I know. But opportunities like this come once in a lifetime. Phillip Pramore is a real Broadway director who is looking for real talent. Not some sixteen year old who sacrifices a good nights for some...disillusioned young man and a childs' fantasy.”
Her jaw clenches tight as she realizes that this wasn't about prom at all. Her head nearly combusted and the visor of her motorcycle helmet is thick with heavy breath. Any other guy, she knew, would be suitable to take his little girl out. Anyone other than Shadow. Any other guy and her father would be making wedding arrangements. The difference? Shadow was twenty four.
The bike slowed as she shot through the last tunnel cutting her from civilization. Playing it safe was a necessity; last thing she needed was the five-oh sending her home in handcuffs. Besides, the streets were nearly empty anyway so there was no need to rush. Fifteen, maybe twenty and she'd be happily in his arms, cheek pressed on chest, slowly swaying back and forth to the tune of some sappy love song. Butterflies swam in her stomach just thinking about it.
The city was home; it was as familiar as breathing. Sure she loved her house on the hill but the city... the city was a person to her. An intimate one at that. Her romance with it allowed her, on any occasion, to navigate this route through a series of back alleys and unknown side roads to evade any police, goons, or any such thing under her fathers employ to apprehend her. She knew they lurked. The city told her they were.
Shadow lived on the second level of a twenty story high-rise apartment. His building was connected at the center, by means of walkway, to the two other buildings on its flanks. Along the building was one large 'L' shaped alley way leading from one side to another. Shielded from city lights by the adjacent businesses and parking garages the alley posed as a cozy resting ground for the homeless and the wicked. A perfect path for a young teenage girl.
Gender:
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