Hello lovely VA fans! I saw a quote a long time ago and got this whole thingy in my head but I chose to get it out for all to see, because I'm weird, before I never do! I'm not sure how this is gonna turn out and I'm cringing really hard but it's a tribute to all of the great, talented and inspiring writers on this app who have provided so much comfort via their stories as a teen and I blame them for my fixation on romance as much I do published authors! So, cheers I guess?

Disclaimer: Vampire Academy is owned by Richelle Mead and I am but a lowly servant trying to hang onto the world and possibilities she's provided!

Also, I know I'm an amateur and I'm only now trying my hand at this thing so...have pity? LOL, hopefully you guys enjoy this!

Chapter One

The day was Tuesday.

It wasn't the first day of a busy work week. Nor in fact was it the middle, when things seem a little brighter because you'd know it would soon be the end of a busy work week. It was a fairly normal day- or it would be if I didn't fucking hate it so much on principle.

If you asked me, it was way too early in the week to be dealing with any kind of shit.

Case in point…

''Do you know who I am?'' I ask the five foot spare change demon currently blocking my way.

She rolls her eyes.

''Do you know who I am?'' she mocks me in an obnoxiously high-pitched voice. ''Who even talks like that anymore? Are you really that full of yourself mister?''

I pause. Who the fuck is this girl?

''What is your name little girl?'' I ask her instead of demanding to know what the hell a girl like her was doing in a dump like this.

My accent comes out thick and it startles me for a second. Normally I wouldn't even spare a living soul a glance on my way inside, but there's something...I have to know.

She looks to be contemplating something, probably how best to make a deal for my soul, and her exotic almond-shaped eyes narrow in a way that has me, well, almost charmed.

Shit.

''I suppose I am little compared to you, huh?'' Her eyes widen dramatically, ''Jeez, you must be like 7 feet tall! Anyway, the name's Rose, Mr. Belikov. Can I interest you in some handmade jewelry?''

What? So she did know who I was. Figures, who doesn't?

I look down at the slender hand she's holding out and see various...things. They look to be some kind of black, brown and blue leather cords with silver charms and embellishments. They were more suited for teenagers and those unkempt young people you see lazing on the streets.

Was she serious?

''Do I look like a man who would wear such shit?'' My voice comes out sharper than I intended.

Her face falls and I feel... I stumble back. I feel...bad?

It lasts only for a second and I don't get a chance to...apologize...before her nostrils are flaring and her eyes seem to spark.

Fuck, that's breathtaking.

''Yeah, you're right. You look more like a collar with spikes kinda guy. You know, the type that needs to be put on a leash.'' The indignation is all over her face and she doesn't have an ounce of fear in her expression.

Remarkable.

It takes me a moment to understand what she's said and before I know it, a laugh, dark and humorless rumbles out of me. She has no idea how right she is.

I'm an animal. A wolf. I either lead the pack or I go it alone. No in-betweens.

I snort. A leash. One does not simply leash a wild animal- and certainly not Dimitri Belikov.

I look around us, taking in our surroundings. One can never know who is watching, waiting. I may only be twenty-one, but I haven't been idle. I have wronged many a men and they have not forgotten. Which means neither have I.

''You shouldn't be here Rose.'' It's sincere advice and an unmistakable warning.

It's almost dark out and a young girl like her in this place, my place, is just asking for all kinds of trouble.

Her jaw tightens but she gives me a wide smile full of I'm not going to listen to you.

''I'm just trying to hustle. You know, how it is.''

Again, who the fuck is this girl. Where did she come from. And today of all days.

You know how it is. Not, I'm sure you wouldn't know anything about that. She doesn't assume anything about me and it pleases something inside me.

She needs to get out of here.

''I will make you deal...Roza.'' Her mouth drops open when I say her name and I have to clench my hands into fists to keep from reaching out to…touch…her?

I banish the dangerous thought.

''Oh.'' She says, pliant for the first time since I've been talking to her and- why am I still here? ''Is that my name in Russian?''

''What?'' I snap because she's not listening.

''Roza,'' She repeats softly.

It reminds me that this girl is young. Too young.

''Fuck. How old are you?" I ask in incredulous wonder. She could be sixteen or sixty for all the audacity she's shown. "No do not tell me.'' I change my mind because-, ''Ah damn it, I need to know.''

She's looking at me like I'm the crazy one before answering, ''I will have you know that I am practically 18.''

Blyad. ''Go home kid.''

She bristles, visibly, at the endearment. Huh.

''You had a deal for me. I'm listening.'' She sets her delicate chin again and it's then I notice her hair.

Thick. Dark. A rich brown with…red? It…It's beautiful.

Beautiful? What am I, a fucking pussy now?

I count to ten in my mind quickly before blowing out a breath.

''I will give you two hundred dollars, right now, for all of your little...pieces, if you turn right the fuck around and go away.''

Please.

She considers my offer, because of course she does, and counters, "Is that what my sweat and labour means to you? Two hundred?"

No. They're worth nothing to me and surely not in the triple digets.

Apparently reading the look on my face she sighs. "Alright, but make it 300 and I'm practically a ghost."

With a smarmy smile, she actually had the audacity to ask for 300- a small price to pay for calling her art shit, I guess.

Women.

Pulling out my clip, I pluck out a few bills, definitely more than 300, but it's nothing compared to the guilt I'd feel if something happened to the stubborn little shit on my turf.

With a triumphant grin that should not have been so…fuck, Rose finally- finally turns to leave.

But before she goes, she plucks out a black leather cord with a peculiar looking pendant, some sort of symbol, and hands it to me.

I have no idea what the fuck I'm looking at but for some reason I accept it. And although I've known her for all of five minutes, the moment strikes me as something completely un-Rose-like.

Or maybe that's a different her. One she doesn't show often, if at all.

What do you care? I don't.

I don't.

So, I don't.

She opens her mouth to say something, and I raise an eyebrow at the sweet red that graces her sharp cheeks.

Fuck me but that's an honest to god blush.

I suppress the smirk that would ordinarily get me into any woman I flash it at because that's not for her. She's not even a…a woman.

Right. She's a kid. A fucking child.

Lost in thought, her soft "Thank you," registers just as she turns and hightails it across the street and down the alley, disappearing in a cloud of rude teenager.

I stare after the direction she disappeared to, not thinking about why I was still outside, in the open, or why I was definitely not thinking about where she might have gone with surely no traces of regret.

It was only then that I realized I hadn't even bothered to suspect her of any ulterior motives. She could have been anybody for fuck's sake, sent by some lowlife to try to kill me, and I had practically panted after her like the dog that I was.

I could only laugh and walk into my club, suddenly hornier than I had ever been in my life.

It was okay for the night I told myself. My guilt of getting off to dark hair and pink lips assuaged by the fact that I would never have to see them again- could never see them again.

But, later that night, with the scent of a woman's perfume clinging to my shirt and the taste of vodka lingering at my throat, staring into my desk where the strange pendant glinted in the dark, I remembered.

Roza owed me three hundred dollars' worth of pendants just like this one and if I wanted…

A laugh bubbles up my throat, turning to vapour upon contact with the vodka there and bursts through my lips in a puff. Did she do it on purpose? Hustling she had called it. She was good, the little thief.

Who the fuck was Rose?

And why the fuck did she have to show up now?

A/N: I know, I know! you're probably like, what the hell was that? Right? Well, truthfully, I have no earthly idea either but I plan to make a mess of this and ask that you guys bear with me because we love VA and we're practically family! Also, like I said in my other fic, the updates on this are probably gonna be crap and I'm sorry in advance! Okay, I'm gonna go hide now. Lots of love always!