I never put much stock in birthdays. I mean the last birthday party I had was when I was thirteen, which had come to an abrupt end when the cops showed up to arrest the magician my mom hired; I never really found out why. Needless to say, the last five birthdays had passed rather uneventfully. So when that fateful day in April came around again, I didn't think much of it.

Little did I know that night would change my life forever.

I jolted awake at the annoying sound of my alarm going off. It rang like an ambulance siren, a dreaded wake up call I got to look forward to every morning. I had tried to go to bed earlier and earlier each night in the slightest hope that I would wake up before the horrible alarm, sadly I had yet to meet with any success in that department.

I quickly slapped my hand atop the beeping clock, frantically searching for the off button while at the same time blinking the sleep from my eyes.

It was going to be another one of those days.

I got up and stumbled across my one room apartment to the answering machine on the coffee table. The blinking red light signifying new messages did nothing but make me feel worse than I already did.

My messages were always bad news.

I hit the play button and sauntered around the room, grabbing a granola bar from the cabinet while I collected my clothes for work. Right when I ripped away the silver foil hiding my breakfast, a man with a raspy voice came on the answering machine.

"Vinnie," I sighed at hearing the short version of my name. "The rent was due last week; don't make me come down there and--"

"Oops," I said aloud as I hit the skip button.

The next message was a familiar feminine voice, though I was certain the news would hardly be important.

"Vinnie," I didn't bother sighing this time. "Darling, happy birthday sweet heart! You're nineteen years old big boy! Have you signed up for college yet? Why don't you find yourself a nice girl! Love you!"

"End of messages," the answering machine announced shortly after.

I could answer my mom's questions the minute I heard them. I wasn't in college because I didn't have the money to pay for tuition, because I was stuck making minimum wage as a coffee shop cashier while my parents were sailing the Caribbean on the newest cruise liner. I still wasn't sure how that one worked out.

My mom always talked like finding a girl was the easiest thing in the world, and I guess she's right, if you're looking for any girl.

I was one to talk, my past three relationships hadn't lasted more than a few days. They all seemed so innocent at first, so… convenient. It's probably me being too picky, but I could never have seen those relationships lasting any longer then they did.

The first after high school was Kate. Kate was that high school actress that marveled at her own talent. Of course this included her purposefully creating dramatic situations between us so that she could use her favorite movie lines in her own life. That ended when she saw her favorite actress use an "absolutely astounding" breakup line (according to her) in the latest chick flick and wanted desperately to try it on me.

I already knew where that ship was headed.

Jane was the second, a yoga instructor from a little studio downtown. I had taken yoga because I'd heard it was suppose to be an "internal massage for the central nervous system", whatever that means. That relationship lasted a whole three hours when I walked in on her practicing breathing exercises. The next thing I knew she was shouting about me breaking her mental concentration and I was quickly shooed out the door.

The last was Tricia. Now Tricia was studying to be a dietician. She was gorgeous; a fine complexion with luscious brunette curls. Imagine my surprise when on our first date she tallied up everything I'd eaten, was utterly appalled at my "score", and told me how she couldn't be with someone who was going to be overweight in five years.

That was that.

I slipped on the featureless black t-shirt we were required to wear for work, chased the granola bar with a glass of milk, and grabbed my keys as I headed out the door.

As I locked both locks on the door and moved down the halls of the apartment complex, I began to wonder how many things could possibly go wrong today. It was my birthday after all, it seemed like the holiday for bad occurrences.

I entered the parking garage and walked down the lanes, passing dozens of cars none of which belonged to me. I didn't have enough money to buy a car. What I could afford was the 4-stroke Centro 50 Blue moped that waited patiently for me in my parking space.

The small motor growled in protest as I attempted several times to kick-start the small scooter. I'd grown annoyed by the metallic whine the gears made when the thing was running, however it was the only sound I wanted to hear right now. If I didn't get it started soon, I'd be late to work. I supposed it was only fitting fortoday's special occasion.

When I did finally get the thing started, I sped off in the direction of the coffee shop downtown. Traffic was busy, as usual, and the wind blew my neck length sand-colored hair every which way since I opted not to wear my helmet for the millionth time. I knew I'd probably regret that some day but I didn't really care. I'd almost prefer that something bad happen, anything to suddenly interrupt this horribly repetitious life I lived.

After parking my fabulous vehicle around the corner, I all but sprinted in the employee entrance. Inside the coffee shop all seemed as I expected it to be. A few students sat quietly by themselves, sipping at their delicious frappucinos and surfing the web on their laptops.

"Vincent! Do you have any idea what time it is?" a voice called from behind me. I didn't have to turn around to know who it was.

At least she got my name right, I thought to myself.

"Eight-oh-two," I nearly stuttered as I quickly glanced at my watch and turned around. There stood my boss, all two hundred and forty-five pounds of her. At this distance she seemed imposing, like she was towering over me.

She turned her face up into a scowl and I could tell from the giant intake of air she took in that her next retort would be a long one.

"Your shift begins at eight! If I wanted you in at eight-oh-two, I would have scheduled you at eight-oh-two! Poor Candace here had to stay after just to wait for you!" she fumed, throwing all her remaining breath into the final word. Her face was a rosy red and I found myself wondering if she was that color all the time and I'd just missed it entirely.

I placed a hand on my chest in an attempt to accept the blame. "I am really sorry Ms. Ruther," I apologized. "It was completely my fault and it won't happen again," I looked to Candace behind the register and I could tell that she didn't mind waiting the extra two minutes it took me to get here. "Candace I'm really sorry you had to stay and I'll make it up to you anyway I can," I said, hoping she would take me up on the offer. I also hoped that she hadn't caught the hint of desperation in my voice.

Ms. Ruther opened her mouth wide to send forth another stream of disappointments, however Candace spoke first. "Aww, it's no problem! Bye bye Vince! See you Tuesday!" she called out cheerfully just before she headed out the door.

It didn't even bother me that she hadn't used my full name. What did bother me was that at that moment I realized I hadn't brushed my teeth this morning, something that never happened. Yet another flaw I hoped she didn't notice.

I kept that last image of her in my head as she departed. Candace was definitely that attractive punk rocker girl. She was slim, had raven black hair tied into a bun, and her wrists were covered with an assortment of bracelets and wristbands. Her pale complexion didn't cause her any problems in the beauty department, just heightened her appearance. She loved to wear pink and black and her joyful mood never seemed to waver, no matter where she was or who was around her.

The roaring engine and blaring rock music outside signaled the arrival of her boyfriend, no doubt picking her up from work.

I sighed, just another day.

Ms. Ruther turned her scrutinizing gaze on me, as if looking for something else to yell about. I quickly threw my apron on and took my place behind the counter, hoping that I could go with as few screw-ups as possible today.

Once I was at the register, I felt comfortable. The guests rolled in through their lunch breaks and I added their orders effortlessly. My right hand moved in a blur across the keys, getting customers through in record time. I could do all the math in my head before the machine ever registered the solution to the eighteen-item receipt the current customer had. At least I was good at it, which was a statement I could say about very few things in my life.

"Hey Vinnie!" the next customer announced as he came to the register. I recognized the voice immediately.

"Hey Roggie," I answered back, putting emphasis on the horrible way I'd found to butcher Roger's name in a manner akin to the way people shortened mine. I realized how stupid it sounded the moment it left my lips.

"Huh?" he asked, confused.

"Nothing, can I offer you a sweet roll with your mochaccino this afternoon?"

I don't even think he heard me, busy as he was adjusting the gelled spikes of his dark hair. His lanky build made him look all the more out of place in that leather jacket he wore.

"Roger."

"Hmm? No this is fine. Hey it's your birthday isn't it?"

I sighed. "Only for another eleven hours."

"Great! That new club opens tonight, we're definitely celebrating!" he crowed loudly, slapping his hand on the counter for emphasis.

I could practically feel the frustration emanating from the other customers, waiting impatiently as Roger held up the line.

"I can't Roger, I'm busy," I lied.

Roger threw me a doubtful look. "Is that so?" he said, emphasizing each word.

"Yes, your total is four twenty-four."

He put on a skeptical expression and handed me a five-dollar bill, to which I already had the change ready for.

"Seventy-six cents is your change, thank you, have a good day."

As I dropped the coins into his palm, he suddenly stared off into space and flipped his hand over, sending the change bouncing across the floor below him.

"Oh no, look what I've done," he said sarcastically as he bent down and began to gingerly pick up the currency one coin at a time. The old lady waiting in line behind him rolled her eyes and checked her watch for what seemed like the fifteenth time. Her glare in my direction told me that she was holding me responsible for the current predicament.

I threw aside my kind employee façade and leaned over the counter. "Roger would you hurry up! You're gonna get me fired," I spoke in a hushed tone.

Roger's eyes lit up as his head peeked over the desk. "Birthday madness tonight?"

"No," I said through nearly clenched teeth.

"Oh look, I think I missed one," he said in the same sarcastic voice, bending down to search for more coins.

"Ok Roger! I'll go! Just get out of here!"

Roger grinned one last time and swept his hands toward me, politely gesturing for the old woman to take her turn at the counter before he ventured back outside.

The bell that signified his exit was a sound of relief, however like all relief with me it was very short lived. I felt Ms. Ruther's penetrating gaze boring a hole in the back of my head.

"Vincent! Did you just send a customer away?" she demanded, nearly enraged.

I sighed, this birthday was getting better and better.

After work I'd went to the yoga studio like I usually do, only to find out that Jane had sold her practice. I knew she'd been trying to do it for a long time, however I never thought anyone would want the place, located as it was in an inconvenient section of town.

Now that I wasn't going to be moving through balanced postures named after animals and inanimate objects for an hour, I decided I could head home and spend the time thinking of a reason I could blow off this whole birthday thing tonight. I really didn't like clubs, especially if it was opening night. There was something about being crammed between a mob of people that didn't appeal to me, not to mention the music blared so loud that I wouldn't be able to hear myself think let alone make out any particular conversation.

I entertained the thought of staging things at my apartment to look like someone had broken in, thinking that to be a fitting excuse for staying in tonight. I didn't have time to think that the idea was way over the top, though, because the brooding clouds above suddenly interrupted my thought process. Rain came down in heavy sheets throughout the city, with the clouds looking only darker in the direction I headed.

I hated my birthdays.

I walked through the apartment complex absolutely soaked, eager to reach my door so that I could shed the drenched clothing that clung to my body. Tiny shivers played down my spine as I fumbled with the keys, sending my teeth chattering as I unlocked the door and threw it open.

The shivering made removing the clothing take some effort, however soon I had them soaring through the air into the hamper as I hurried to the shower. I turned the hot water on as high as it would go and jumped in, hardly able to contain the relief the hot water would bring.

The pipes behind the porcelain tiles groaned and then the water shut off completely.

My shoulders slumped in helpless resignation; unable to believe the course my birthday was taking. Why not just strike me with a meteor? I thought to myself. I would almost prefer that over enduring the rest of this terrible day.

I jerked the sliding door of the shower opened, wrapped a towel around my waist, and headed back into the entry room.

Frustration was clear on my face as I tried the other faucets in the apartment. I could only guess that the landlord had shut the water off, since it seemed like horrible timing if it had done it on its own. Though on a day like today it certainly seemed possible.

I passed the fully body mirror and took a look at myself. I looked pale, whiter than usual, which was never a good thing. Candace seemed to be the only one that could pull off the whole pale complexion thing with any success.

I gingerly prodded the small muscles that emerged from my whopping one hundred and forty-three pound frame. No doubt a result from the yoga I dragged myself to each day.

"An internal massage for the central nervous system," I muttered sarcastically in my best yoga instructor voice.

I brushed my teeth with the aid of a bottle of water from the fridge, which I half expected to stop working soon, along with everything else that depended on electricity.

The door banged open loud behind me, forcing me to nearly choke on my toothbrush. I turned around to see Roger in the doorway as the door flew open to hit the wall on its side. It was only then that I realized I hadn't locked the door, something I also never do.

"Are you ready to rock!?" Roger roared in absolute glee. He looked like some type of modern version of a greaser from the fifties, with his white t-shirt and blue jeans. I even caught the glint of a gold chain around his neck.

I looked around for a minute, weighing my options. "I still need to shower," I pointed out.

He arched an eyebrow as he looked at me half drenched with nothing but a towel around my waist.

I knew it'd be pointless explaining, so instead I moved on to my alibi. "I… umm… someone…" I stammered, attempting to play off my breaking and entering excuse but failing horribly.

Roger arched both eyebrows this time, his forehead creasing in confusion as if he was truly trying to put something together out of that sentence.

"Never mind," I sighed. "Lemme grab some clothes."

The ride through the rain wasn't that bad in Roger's 2004 Honda Civic. Everything seemed to work fine, the car clean enough, which of course led me to wonder how he had acquired such a vehicle.

"It's a hand-me-down," Roger spoke aloud, as if reading my thoughts. "From my grandfather."

I immediately felt bad for thinking wrongly of him. "I'm sorry, how did he pass away?" I asked sincerely.

His face scrunched up like I'd just asked him if cows fly. "He didn't die dude, he bought the new model."

I sank back in my seat, feeling like an idiot once again. It would be hard enough for me to remain composed in this new nightclub and I couldn't even manage to do it in the car. I searched my head for questions that would keep me occupied.

"So what's this place called?" I asked.

"The Crimson Rose," Roger answered in his best movie announcer impersonation.

"Sounds like some kind of dark, romance film," I added as I put the pieces together.

Roger laughed loudly. "Well it'll be dark inside… and there's sure to be plenty of romance!" he said, putting emphasis on the quantifying word.

I couldn't even fake a laugh at his horrible attempt at a sly form of humor. If this was a glimpse at how the night was going to be, I didn't know how I would be able to survive.

It took forever to find a parking space in the vast lot, seeming like everyone in the city was rushing to check out the newest establishment. With an extreme amount of luck however, we managed to get a spot very close to the entrance, taking the place of an old woman who had parked there to get groceries from the store next door.

Guess everything couldn't go wrong after all.

"I need you to be my wingman," Roger said under his breath.

I was wrong.

"What?" I asked incredulously, thinking for sure that I'd heard him incorrectly.

Roger was in the middle of spraying himself with a variety of colognes. "Don't worry about it man, I'll find a good pair."

I couldn't believe I was actually hearing this. "Are you serious? Are you kidding me right now? It's my birthday," I said, as if today's special occasion should have any significance.

"Which is why I'm gonna do all the work. Relax big guy, I've got it covered," he answered back, putting a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

I sighed once again, the expression that seemed to be repeating itself over and over. I actually wondered how many more times it would happen before the stroke of midnight, the time when I could finally say that this day was officially over.

The trip inside was just as bad as I expected it to be. I was charged twenty dollars just to walk into the place, where I promptly had a neon stamp pressed onto the back of my hand, signifying to the bartender and everyone else in the place that I was under twenty-one.

I tried to keep up with Roger as he slipped through the massive crowd of college students, which proved to be utterly futile. I shouted his name a couple of times after I'd lost sight of him, however I couldn't even hear the words myself over the techno beat that had everyone on the floor going crazy.

My head begun to spin as I pushed my way through the crowd, looking for a place of reprieve as multicolored lights flashed by one after another. I felt almost claustrophobic in here, like I couldn't breathe. It was like the room had a finite amount of oxygen and was quickly running out.

It wasn't until I reached the bar that I found an opening, a place where I could lift my arms without touching someone else. I savored the opportunity, taking a moment to relax and steady my breathing.

I took a look at the view of the dance floor from this angle. There were no familiar faces, just a sea of unknown people, which I guessed might be a good thing. If I made a complete fool of myself at some point tonight, no one would be able to bring it up in the near future.

"Hey Vince!" a familiar voice called.

So much for that assumption.

"Hey," I called back to Candace, quickly trying to hide the flaws in my wardrobe. I dropped my left hand to cover the bleach spot on my red dress shirt just above my left hip. My right arm went across my stomach to wrap around my side, hiding the missing black button that I'm sure no one noticed but me.

Even in her fishnet sleeves, black leather pants, and studded jewelry, she looked gorgeous; like she could get away with wearing anything you threw at her and still pull it off. More than that, it was like what she wore didn't matter, that as long as she remained her self then everything was great.

She moved forward and hugged me, an embrace I was more than willing to accept. Some sort of breathtaking fragrance wafted off of her ever so slightly, making the hug even more worth it.

Her face was adorned with her usual smile, white teeth sparkling as she slid me back to an arms length and held out a hand towards her date. "This is my boyfriend Jake!"

I offered him a half smile as I shook his offered hand, trying hard to hide my jealousy. In truth, he didn't seem like a bad guy. I mean he was definitely her type, probably was in a band of his own somewhere. His dark hair was buzzed to half an inch in length and he wore clothing that supported bands I'd never heard of, though I wasn't too knowledgeable in the music department.

"So, Vince," Candace started, her voice immediately grabbing my attention. "Did you come here alone? I didn't take you for the club type."

"Ye—"

"Vinnie, buddy! Where you been?" Roger interrupted. One look at Candace however had his expression changed. He tapped one foot as he waited impatiently to be introduced.

I sighed, adding another tally to my mental tracking sheet. "Candace this is Roger. Roger, Candace."

Roger dipped into a bow like he was from the eighteenth century. "Vinnie didn't tell me he knew a princess!" he called loudly over the techno music.

Candace chuckled softly, keeping her smile through it all. "We have to go, Jake's due on stage soon. Bye Vince!" she called out as her date led her towards the stage.

"Where'd you meet that hottie?" Roger shouted in my ear just as the music slowed to a halt.

I looked up to see the DJ rotating CD's and switching cords. "Any luck with your romantic search?" I asked, more interested in ignoring his question than any answer he'd give.

The ploy worked. "I saw a few that were eyeing me, just waiting to reel 'em in!" he said, actually miming a fishing reel as he laughed.

I rolled my eyes, knowing that there was absolutely nothing else I could take from this night. I had gotten to see Candace at least, allowing me to grab another image of her to store away in my mental gallery.

I should just leave, I thought to myself. I knew there was no way I'd be able to drag Roger from the scene, small as his chances were at accomplishing his goal. The walk home shouldn't take too long; I just hoped it wasn't raining outside.

"You look nervous," a voice whispered in my ear.

I nearly jumped, startled by the sudden closeness of someone next to me. Her voice was like honey, soothing and surreal.
Too many things flooded to catch up with my train of thought. The music had started again, Roger was no where to be seen, and I was hearing voices now, a mental condition that could be added to the pile of bad things today had already rained upon me.

I turned to my right and this time I did jump. Just inches from my face stood the single most attractive women I'd ever seen. Forget what I'd said about Candace being the only one able to pull off a pale complexion, this woman did it beyond the bounds I'd thought possible. The flashing lights above gleamed off her snow-white skin. A long, sparkling red dress adhered to every contour of her perfect body, slit up one side to reveal her shapely legs. Long red hair floated down passed her shoulders; so vibrant in color that it matched her dress. All this and yet the thing that drew me in the most were her eyes, those rich red eyes. Eyes that left me entranced, spellbound by their gaze that spoke of absolute desire. Here was the girl that artists painted in their dreams, the one that didn't actually exist.

"Breathe," she purred with a hint of an accent.

I shook the confusion from my head and took in a deep breath, then turned around to look for whom she must be talking to.
Of course she had an accent, I thought to myself as I looked the other way. Accents were an inherent weakness for me when it dealt with speaking to women. Like she needed it, I would have been just as enthralled if she hadn't spoken at all.

When I turned back in her direction she was up against me, her fingertips dancing playfully across my chest. Every muscle in my body went rigid at her touch, still trying to deal with the fact that she had actually been addressing me this whole time.

Her eyes looked me over in an appraising manner and the corners of her full red lips turned up into an irresistible smile. "Tell me your name," she cooed in an Italian accent.

Italian! The one accent that I'd personally rated more irresistible than all the rest. I didn't know how to keep from shaking. I couldn't even hear the music anymore, couldn't even see the dozens of eyes who had their eyes locked on me, all silently wondering what in the world she saw in me.

"Vin…cent," I stuttered, hardly able to force the words out.

Her hand slid up my neck and through my hair, gently pulling my forehead down to hers. "Ahh, my Vincent," she said, pulling her lips a fraction of an inch closer to mine. I didn't miss her use of the personal pronoun as her cool breath sent chills down my spine.

It was then that I noticed that she was, indeed, cold. I could feel the chill emanating from beneath her dress, from the hand that grasped the back of my head with a tenacious hold.

Before I could ponder that thought any further though, her lips suddenly found mine as she pulled me closer. I nearly swooned. My whole world spun as her perfect lips caressed mine in a seductive manner.

I slid one hand to the back of her head and the other to her waist as I attempted to match her passion, pulling her close and shivering the whole way through.
She smiled and ran her lips up my neck, inhaling in a sound of sheer ecstasy as her mouth reached my ear. "Are you cold? My Vincent?" she teased, playfully nibbling on my earlobe.

I nodded, even though she couldn't see me. I didn't know how else to respond. By all rights I should be roasting in a room with over a hundred people, yet holding her was like hugging an ice sculpture.

"Come with me," she murmured, taking my hand and guiding me to the spiral staircase at the back wall.

The crowd parted before her as she glided forward with an otherworldly grace. Every step seemed perfect, as if each had been preplanned in some grand design. Yet her beauty never faltered, not in her walk up the stairs, not even when she had me against the door at the top.

This woman obviously had some power of authority around here. The bouncer at the top of the stairs didn't make one move to stop her, didn't even look at me as she towed me passed him. I wondered how many other guests of the club had been admitted to this rather private area of the establishment.

This night had completely taken me by surprise. I would have never in a million years expected anything like this, like her, to approach me on any day, let alone my birthday. It was so unconceivable, that I half-expected a camera crew to come flying out of a fake wall to announce some new reality television series.

"What's your name?" I managed to ask after she led us into a private room and shut the door.

She smiled and shoved me up against the wall. "Natasha," she spoke through a smile. Her fingers slipped inside the buttons of my shirt.

"Well Natasha, what brings you to a big city like this?" I said, stupidly trying to make small talk during one of the most nervous moments in my life.

She ripped my shirt open, sending the remaining black buttons shooting in random directions. "You," she purred as she settled her ear against my chest. I could feel my heart rate accelerating, so I could only imagine how it must sound to her right now, pounding away behind my rib cage.

Now I knew I must be dreaming.

I thought she might laugh at my nervousness, maybe even forget the ordeal altogether. I was beyond the thought of knowing this was too good to be true. However, I knew that something definitely wasn't right. How does a coffee cashier end up in the private bedroom on the second floor of the newest nightclub in town? I wondered.

As if she could sense my hesitation, she pulled me away from the wall and wrapped her legs around my waist in a cold iron embrace. Her lips squeezed against mine, silencing my thoughts before they could make their way back to the forefront of my mind. I felt completely powerless in that hold; like no matter how hard I tried I wouldn't be able to escape.

I slowly walked her to the giant bed that took up the center of the room and set her down, trying to keep my lips moving with hers. She craned my neck back and ran her lips up it once again, savoring the moment like some irresistible scent coated my skin.

I could feel the blood course faster through my neck as my heart raced. She smiled wide and placed her open mouth right a top the pulsing vein. I felt each row of teeth settle into place and then her tongue taste the surface of my skin.

The sound of my pounding heart coupled with the muffled techno music blocked out any other noise I might have heard. However I could feel the low growl from the bottom of her throat, a feral snarl acting as the precursor of some sinister reality.

This was the best birthday I'd ever had; I could only hope to have more like it.

Oh how wrong I was.