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I'mma be short about this, okay? Here's my honest-to-God opinion.

It could be interesting. This could be exciting, intriguing, heart-poundingly fantastic...if it weren't so choppy. Because it's very, very choppy. But let's start at the beginning, shall we?

I'm sitting on the curb in the rain drinking a bottle of vodka.

I can see someone walking up the path towards me; he is the most gorgeous thing I've seen all night (though that might just be the alcohol talking), as he gets closer my heart flutters. When he reaches me he bends down.

This could be started out way better. The rain tinkled down, and the smell of wet asphalt filled the air, half-comforting half-frightening.

The bottle of vodka slipped from my hand and smashed to pieces in the gutter, and I wondered woozily if that was an attractive guy walking up the street or a giant slug with polka-dot horns. (I made it past tense instead or present like yours--just preference. Obviously you can use whatever tense you want)

See? Can't you picture the scene better in your head now? Smell that wet-asphalty smell? And when she gets a slug with horns and an attractive dude mixed up, you have to s'pose she's either drunk or worse, y'know?

So firstly, open your piece a little better, right? You've got a good story going here--it just needs work.

Secondlllyyy. Believability. Let's look at this a minute, shall we?

A guy comes up to a very pretty--but drunk--girl. Asks her if she needs a hand, helps her up, and as they walk we assume he's checking her out like she's checking him out. Okay, believable enough, I guess. However, when he asks the girl where she's staying, gasp! She...doesn't...know. Can't remember. Can't remember anything helpful at all.

And now--what? He books her in a hotel 'around the corner', all but carries her up to her room, and drops her down on the bed.

She freaks out, silently, afraid he's gonna do something, but he takes one look at this attractive, inebriated girl with her dress in shreds...and turns around, out the door, shuts it behind him.

WHAT.

Sorry, this is only as strange as I think it is when we skip forward to the next morning. She wakes up, this attractive, confident-sounding girl, and stumbles downstairs in something little better than rags, hair messed up, make-up smeared, chyeah. Mm, well, I'll admit I've never really experienced a hangover before, so maybe you could point out to the reader that normally she would have cleaned up first and then gone to see the guy she was extremely attracted to who also seems to be veryvery nice and maybe even gay.

Mmm.

Anyways, the part that bothered me the most - besides the dream, I'll get to that - was the breakfast part. He takes her back upstairs, and instead of saying, "Hey, I have room service, you can come and eat with me when you're finished if you want," he waits until she goes downstairs to leave a note with a random waiter. Whaaat? Anyways, she comes back upstairs, goes INTO his room, HIS ROOM, eats breakfast with him, and then he starts interrogating her. As if it's his business. Hmmm, okay, weird. Maybe perhaps possible, but weird. Then this random stranger guy says she can CRY on his SHOULDER if she's upset, dunno wtf that's really about. Then finally she gets up to go, all freakish and abrupt-like, and he kisses her passionately.

WHOA. Dude, reality check? This could be really cool--you've got some basic foundation for it to be, but the actual story isn't making a whit of sense. I ought to know, I used to do this exact same thing. A pretty girl meets a hot guy, oh he's so nice, oh he's so perfectly perfect, oh, they run around throwing flowers behind them from little pink baskets and do lots of attractive things and are so. bloody. perfect.

But it isn't half as fun to read as it is to write, trust me. This could be a great diary entry of what you want to be when you grow up, but as a story, I'm just not buying it, in any sense of the word. It's confusing, the characters are blurry, and Stephenie Meyer herself probably couldn't make sense out of it.

Anyways, I need to go pretty much now, but here are a few pointers first, or one, at least.

Question yourself. That's right. When you're writing a story, always ask yourself, whenever something new happens, or if not, at least during a read over, Could this really happen? I can tell you right now if you'd done that this story would be unrecognizable. Totally. I've already gone through the parts that were crazy - which, sadly, was most of it - and I don't even want to get started on the whole, tranquilizing heels, oh I carry tranquilizing liquids with me wherever I go thing.

It needs work, bambina. Lots of work. If you want it to be a fantasy diary entry where all men are sweet hot dudes that go around helping out drunk girls in shredded dresses, refuse to take advantage of said girls and then kiss them passionately the next morning, hey, be my guest. But I really doubt - you never know, if Twilight's out there anything can be - it'll ever go anywhere beyond YWS.

There's my spiel, then. I hope I helped. I know it's tough to get a real review, to realize there's something not perfect about your story. I hate when that happens, usually. x( But sometimes it's gotta happen.

Good luck, anyhow. PM me if and when you revise this--I'd like to see it.

-SELA