Under The Stars

By: DelicateSoul

A/N: Yes, this is another Alternate Universe story! :D

I hope you all enjoy this as much as Love Forgotten, my other fanfic! I just wanted to get away from the Moroi world and such for once. Let's see how this one goes! Enjoy!

Prologue: Drunken Beauty

I just sat there at the corner of the bar, sloshing my whiskey around in my glass cup. I wasn't drunk yet. No, I'm sure I wasn't. How many drinks have I had? Ten? Twenty? I lost track already. My mind reeled back to my last moment with Tasha Ozera.

"Dimka, I really love you, but I just can't see your commitment towards me," Tasha complained two hours earlier. She was there with her purse and her lovely blue dress, her hands on her hips.

I raised an eyebrow at her. "Commitment?" I repeated, "Have I mistreated you in some way?"

She shook her head and sighed in exasperation. "Whenever we go out on a date, I'm the one who has to plan everything! I'm the one who has to ask you out! I'm always the one who takes the initiative! The only thing you've ever done was follow everything I did or said. At this rate, I can't see this relationship going any further," she ranted, her pale face slightly turning red.

I ran a hand through my hair; this wasn't the first time she complained to me. "So what do you want?" I asked. Even if I had been dating Tasha Ozera, the most desired woman in Siberia, I always felt that some part of me was still missing. And she couldn't fill that empty hole, whatever it was.

She laughed a humorless laugh. "What do I want? So it's what I want again, isn't it?" she said bitterly, "I'm giving up on us. I can't go on like this, being with a man passive enough to be a robot. I'm through. And don't even bother to come looking for me." And with that she stomped out of the bar. The bartender just looked at me and shook his head, as if saying 'and there goes another one.'

I leaned back in my chair and sighed. I didn't have the slightest urge to chase her. Though we've been together for nearly two years, I've never put her first in my life. My family came first, and I guess she never realized that. I paid the bartender and turned in my chair to leave when a glass cup flew by my face, missing it by a mere millimeter. It crashed into the wall. I turned around to see who'd thrown it, and there was a lady drinking another glass of what looked to be hard liquor.

She slammed it down on the counter and pointed aimlessly at an invisible person in front of her. "Listen here, Mr. Adrian Fancy-Womanizer Ivashkov," she said, her voice making it evident that she was drunk to the max, "How dare you choose that whore, Rinaldi, over me? Huh? What? I was more interested in picking fights than getting into bed with you? Well, news flash! You can just go screw yourself over! Have a nice life! Asshole!"

I couldn't stop the smile from coming onto my face; she and I had similar problems.

She fell off her chair, and I barely caught her before her hip hit the floor. I tried shaking her slightly, but from the way she looked she was out for the night. Sighing I paid the bartender for her drinks, too, which came out to be double the price of my own bill.

"Go on, lad, take her with you. I've had enough relationship issues for the night from her," the bartender groaned. I complied with his request and carried her out of the bar, taking her into a taxi with me.

"Where to?" the taxi driver asked.

"Hold on. Let me check her address," I said and he answered with a grunt. I opened her cell phone and checked her contact list, but everything had been erased. All of her text messages had been deleted. Looking through her tiny bag, there was nothing about her address or relatives. I only found a passport and her wallet, which was pretty much empty. I looked at her passport, and from her date of birth she was no more than seventeen years old.

I took out two plane tickets from my bag and looked at the one with Tasha's name on it; we were supposed to go back to Siberia together, but I guess she found a place to live here in America.

Turning to look at the teenager sleeping against the window, I saw that most of her hair was brushed back behind her shoulder, revealing her beautiful, tear-streaked face. I turned to the taxi driver who looked bored out of his wits and sighed.

"Take us to the airport, please," I said, looking at the drunken beauty next to me, hoping that she'd regain consciousness soon. Otherwise, I'd be taking a stranger back to Russia with me.

Loved it? Liked it? Hated it? R&R!

I know it's kind of lame, but, hey, it's prologue! :D

I'll update soon on this!

-Delicate