Stanley Pines was on the run; a con man if you will. Six years prior he was kicked out of his own home, and his nerdy twin brother Ford didn't bother to save his ass from the streets. The life of a crook was hard work you know, moving from place to place, selling cheaply made, and overpriced products that didn't even work. He landed in Vegas, living out of his car, growing a grungy mullet out of his head and getting kicked out of motels for not having the pay for the rent.
That was until he came across a small orange inn, in a beat down part of the city. It's roofs were tattered and the walls were peeling but it was cheap and could last him a couple more nights if he negotiated well. Once he settled in his room he threw his small bag onto the bed and a pair of boxers fell out and onto the floor. He went to the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. He washed his face and spit in the sink. He looked around at the room.
"This place has gone to shit," He said to himself. "For Christ's sake, you've gone to shit." He said shaking his head slowly. "Fuck, Stan what have you gotten yourself into. I'll be a monkey's uncle if a man in an overcoat knocks on my door with a chainsaw doesn't come a knockin' in the next five minutes." He shook his head and sighed. It was a lonely life, and Stanley Pines was certainly one of the loneliest men in Las Vegas.
On one particular night he wondered in a little drunk into a shady, show girls club, with a neon sign of a centerfold hanging out of a martini glass. The door was guarded by a giant man in black pants and a black shirt. The neon signs on the wall were a complete blur and he pushed his way past scrawny men with their tongues hanging out of their mouths like dogs. His head nearly fell onto the floor before he made it to a table. He waved his hand and called over a young man in a uniform for a drink. He'd gotten kicked out of a previous bar for bar fighting with some rapscallion. A young, scrawny boy wearing a waiter's tux hurried over.
"I don't care what you have just lay it on me, kid. And make it a double." He said pounding the table with his large fist, still bloody from the fight.
"Right away sir," The kid said. He stopped turned around and whispered, "Boy are you in for a real show tonight," The boy said grinning. "Hannah's performing." He said with a giddy smile and scurried away.
"Who the hell was this Hannah chick?" Stan thought to himself. He glazed his eyes over to the stage as a young man in a gold suit opened the curtains and strutted towards the center stage. He lifted his hat and spoke with a voice like silk.
"Alright fellas," He said. "My baby girl Hannah's performing tonight." The crowd of men hollered and whistled. "Now she's a little shy so y'all be nice…treat her well." He said with a sly grin. He disappeared back stage and the lights grew dim.
A tall skinny girl with legs that stretched nine miles long accompanied with a head full of bouncy blonde hair strutted on stage wearing a skimpy, gold leotard. Her legs were caressed by fish net tights and a red boa was dangling from around her neck. She looked what, eighteen? Maybe twenty one? She twirled around a long silver pole in her tall red stilettos. She sang the lyrics to a far more seductive version of "You Don't Own Me". Her lips were a piercing red and her face was lined with gold glitter that highlighted those rich brown eyes.
Her voice was like that of an angel that had just been kicked out of heaven, and she had the look nailed to a T. She didn't take her eyes off him for the entire show… what was she doing? Trying to seduce him? No, way. Not tonight. Stan couldn't take another broken heart. Not after what happened.
The boy arrived with two shots on his tray and drooled over the dangling dame. Stan outta kick his ass into next week.
"Isn't she magnificent?" He gazed. Stan frowned.
"Dream on, kid. Woman like that wouldn't go for you in a hundred years." He drank one shot and slammed in on the table. It was like an old friend giving his insides a more than welcome hug. "Dame like that," He head locked the kid and pointed. "Needs a man." He said grunting.
As cash flew everywhere, she began to walk towards the edge of the stage where the kid's mouth was flowing like Niagara falls and wrapped her boa around his neck and pulled him in. She giggled and ruffled his hair and the crowd snickered as the kid blushed furiously. Then she slowly made her way over to Stan. Time came to a halt as if it was just the two of them against the world. She grabbed his jacket and pulled him in. She smelled like champagne and roses; and Stan was completely wrapped around her finger. He felt a trickle of sweat run down the back of his neck and he gasped for air. She made herself comfortable in his lap as she continued to dance.
She pulled him in for a kiss and then… backed away slowly fiendishly grinning. She put a shoe up to his face as his hands chased after her legs. He winced, and she let out a long note and Stan heard the angles of heaven singing with her. She disappeared backstage and the lights grew dim. Hoots and hollers from all those creepy bastards erupted from every corner of the joint. Stan couldn't move his legs. And as the bar came to a steady close, men began to push past him and curse him to move but he didn't' hear any of it; he was lost in that show girls trance.
There was something else about that dame that peeked his interest… They'd shared a connection the two of them. He could feel it in his heart of hearts. He frantically looked around for a sign of her but she was out of sight. The bouncer ushered him out onto the cold gravel road outside. Standing up, he cursed and brushed the dirt off his tattered coat. He put his hands in his coat and mumbled to himself. His thoughts were interrupted by the latch closing on a door. He looked around and made his way to the back of the building. Aha! He spotted her, walking cooly wrapped in black.
"Night, Larry." Shit, that scumbag in the gold suit was with her. He grabbed slapped her on the ass and she turned around quickly. "I'm not in the mood tonight, Larry." She said. "Come on baby," He said. "Let me take you home for the night."
"I said no. Go home you're drunk." She said. "I'll call you a cab." He raised his hand and hesitated.
"Ah, I ain't wasting my time. Next time I won't hesitate to beat the shit outta you, bitch. Next time you won't say no." She raised her shoulders and tightened her coat. He stumbled and made his way down the street. Stan peered around the corner of the brick wall and watched her walk into the light of an old lamppost.
Maybe it was the light change but she looked mysterious, wearing a long coat and black boots. She glided over to the back alley exit and he figured, being the gentleman he was, he should protect her from peeping Tom's. Oh what she must be wearing under that coat. He rushed over to her and pulled up the collar of his stained jacket. He cleared his throat and she whirled around. She smiled, her red lips even fuller, her hair shinier and her skin paler in the moonlight. She smiled.
"Hey there, stranger." She said cooly.
"He-hey there, sugar. I-I mean stranger…" He stuttered. She laughed and flipped her hair out of her eyes. Gosh her laugh was beautiful. Stan put his hands in his pockets.
"Are you okay?" He asked quietly. She bit her lip and scratched her head.
"Oh Larry?" She asked. "He's all talk and no game. Don't worry about me. I can take care of myself." She lightly punched his shoulder. "I'm a big girl, pay my own bills and shit." She fiddled with her coat collar.
"You had a nice show, tonight Miss." She smiled. She raised her eyebrows and met him eye to eye.
"Oh stop. It's only routine." She said twirling her hair sarcastically. "Did I give you a little scare back there?" She said smirking. His ego turned on and his confidence level was beginning to rise. He rubbed the back of his neck.
"Me? Scared? Please." He rubbed his stubble. "Though, that sure didn't feel like routine…" He said half smiling.
"What can I say? You caught my eye." She tucked her hair behind her ears and stepped closer. His heart was beating fifty miles a minute.
"…And that, er, waiter kid," Stan said waving his hand.
"Who, Charlie?" She said laughing softly. She traced his jawline with her nimble fingers. "C'mon… I'm a lot of things but I'm not a cougar." She scolded. "He's just a kid," She said softly. "…And he's not really my type." She whispered.
"So uh," He said. "Let's get outta here…" He said cooly.
"But you're a stranger. Momma taught me never to talk to strangers." She smirked.
"You're ma taught you well, honey." He chuckled.
"Besides, I've never seen you around her before. You new?" She touched his arm.
"I guess you could say that…" He grabbed her waist.
She smiled.
"You're forward…" She said.
"I like what I see." Swiftly he spun her around and took her hand and kissed her smooth skin lightly. She blushed. "I gotta tell you you're a lot more charming than most guys I encounter," She said. "Especially at this time of night in this part of town. It's sleaz-bag central." She droned.
"Well I'm no ordinary guy, baby." He put his hand around her shoulder and she rested her head on his neck. They walked for a long time in silence. Stan had never been more content to just enjoy the moment with anyone, before he met this woman - oh, God, her name? Shit, what was her name?
"Where the hell are my manners," Hannah stopped walking. "I believe I have forgotten what you said your name was."
"That's because I din't give it to you, hotshot." She laughed. "It's Hannah. Hannah Wyatt." She said with a teasingly pouty look. He smiled.
"Stan Pines." She grinned.
"Well Stan Pines, can I treat you to a night to ourselves in this old gone-to-shit part of town?" Stan took her hands in his and kissed them. "I know it's not much but I know some of the best places to go when you need to get away…" She said biting her lip. Stan chucked and grabbed her waist.
"Damn. With you, baby? I'd sneak into the fucking base of the Russian mafia." He lowered his head and kissed her thin neck. She ran her fingers through his hair and arched her back. Boy, with a woman like this, he could stay here forever.
They ran together through back allies stealing a few kisses here and there. He had almost forgotten how cold it was outside. Having Hannah near him set his heart on fire and clouded his thoughts. They danced around a dumpster ridden alley and sat under the stars on the hood of some old hag's car. Stan reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a whiskey bottle he had smuggled from the bar. Hannah threw her head back laughing.
"Wow. A handsome stranger and a thief? I never would've guessed." He raised the bottle and looked at Hannah.
"Here's to forgetting our worries and troubles tonight." He sang.
"Hell yeah, cheers to that!" Hannah held up a pretend glass in the air and laughed. She pressed her lips against his and Stan felt his body shiver with adrenaline. He'd been a con man for years, been in and out of jail, pulled a multitude of pranks that sent him to the office in high school and even stolen a motorcycle from a gang and barely made it out alive. But never had he felt such excitement like this in his life. The last thing he remembered was sharing that kiss with Hannah, one so sweet, under the starless night sky of a noisy Vegas alley way.
Stan woke the next morning in a sun filled room. How did he end up here? In his crusty old motel room? He yawned and scratched his hairy back. He was in a sweaty tank top with beer stains covering it. He was drooling a little and he wiped his mouth.
"Ah gross…" He said. He looked down and saw Hannah lying there covered in gold sheets. "Oh yeah," He thought to himself. "Her," He thought.
She was so beautiful, her golden hair was sprawled out on the pillow. He smiled to himself slowly recalling the last few moments he remembered before blacking out. He leaned over and moved her long thick hair out of the way of her neck. He looked at it for a long while. It was pale and smooth, dotted with small hickeys. He chuckled softly to himself. He kissed her neck, then slowly moved up to her ear. She let out a few soft moans; she was waking up. She turned around groggily and smiled placing her hand on his jawline. She kissed him deeply, passionately. She pulled away and sighed. Suddenly her eyes widened and she sat up, the covers fell off and she and Stan both realized she wasn't wearing a top. She pulled the covers over herself and blushed.
"Hey, hey. Don't do that." He said softly. "I had almost forgotten how beautiful you are." He said smiling. She shook her head and proceeded to put on a t-shirt.
"Don't," She said frantically trying to fix her hair. "I can't believe we did that, Stan," She said. "We really shouldn't have done that." Tears fell from her eyes silently and she began the search for her underwear and jeans. "I have to go," She said looking at the door, her cheeks flustered.
"Hey, what gives!" Stan leaped from his pillow and stumbled to get to his feet in time to catch Hannah before she hurried out the door. He grabbed her hand and spun her around. "Would you care to tell me what the hell is going on here? Why you in such a hurry, anyways?" He was blushing furiously. She stuttered trying to make something come out but she couldn't. She looked from Stan to the door back and forth.
"Look, last night was amazing," She said with a smile. "But you're a nice guy and you should get out of here before one of us gets hurt," She said wiping her tears.
"Hurt? Sugar what are you talkin' about?" He asked confused. Hannah closed her eyes and let a tear fall down her pale cheek.
"Look I'm not who you think I am, Stan. You're a nice guy but I'm not a nice girl. I shouldn't have lead you on like that…" She said trying to leave. But he took her hand to stop her.
For a moment she turned around and he could see the hurt in her eyes. Her cheeks were red and her eyes were a little puffy. They looked at each other and Stan could feel his heart about to burst out of his chest. She was breathing heavily and her hair had fallen perfectly, just like it had done last night. She was silent, he was silent. Stan ran his fingers through her hair and lifted her chin.
"You are so beautiful," He said.
"Please don't say that." She said, tears running down her face. Stan wiped them with his large thumb and she grabbed a hold of his hand. Stan pulled her in for a kiss. He rested his forehead on hers and rubbed her shoulder.
"What's wrong, baby?" He asked softly. Her response was more than he could handle.
"I think I'm falling in love with you." She shook her head and cried.
"Looks like I'm falling for you too there, babe. You say it like it's a bad thing." She pulled away.
"Because it is, Stan!" She yelled. Stan fell silent. "I can't do this. I just can't I'm sorry." She repeated. He stood there like a fool red faced and embarrassed.
"But I love…I love you…" He said. She shook her head vigorously.
"No," She said. folding her arms.
"But why-" Stan began to say but was cut off by her choking voice.
"Because I sell myself to guys, Stan!" "I'm a trick, I'm a fucking joke! I'm ashamed to show my face around!" She yelled. Her tears were now rushing like rivers. "My family has disowned me, my sister treats me like a stranger," She paused. "I've wasted myself just to get by, just to pay my stupid bills." She choked. "I'm so numb. I'm so numb." She sobbed. "I'm not the girl you think I am." She sniffed and wiped her nose with her bare arm. "You… You should get out of here while you still have a life to get back to. A family." Stan's eyes were filling with burning tears. "Don't waste your time on someone like me." She said wiping her face.
Stan rushed over and pulled her into a tight embrace. Hannah was sobbing in his arms, going limp and clinging on to his large torso. Her tears were soaking his shirt but he didn't care.
"Shh," He mused. He rubbed her head and kissed her forehead softly. "I'm here." He said. "I'm here." And I'll protect you. And I'll never let you go…" He whispered. "Never…" He said softly. "You are the most beautiful and most amazing woman I've ever laid my eyes on; it doesn't matter what or where you come from." He said holding her tight. "I'll take care of you." He whispered. He kissed her softly and held her face in his hands. "I love you." Stan whispered. She smiled.
"I love you too." She said through hiccups and soft sobs. "Christ, Stan. I've been with hundreds of guys and I never give a shit if they see me naked, I don't get fuzzy warm feelings, and god forbid I ever get attached. So why the hell do I suddenly give a flying fuck about you?" She said through watery eyes. Stan slowly removing her left bra strap. Her shoulder was soft, dotted with freckles. He kissed each one and rubbed his thumb across it.
"Maybe you're just not as numb as you thought." He said.
