Lucy Greene and Enzo Russo find each other in a twist of fate and instantly desire takes them over.
But as the real world creeps in around them, it seems that fate has played a trick on them.
Lucy Greene is on her year abroad in Italy when she mee...
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"Come on Lucy!" Amanda hollers as I stumble through my room, attempting to do up the tiny buckle on my red heels.
"I'm coming Ames!" I shout out, pausing for a moment to check my lipstick is still ok.
The red colour coats my lips perfectly, my plump pout always caused my sisters great envy, especially when they had fillers in the attempt to recreate my natural look.
Throwing open my bedroom door, I hurry down the carpeted corridor and find Amanda waiting for me in the communal kitchen.
"You know there's a difference between fashionably late and just late." Amanda chastises me with an irritated eye roll.
"Oh hush you." I flap my hand at her as I grab my leather jacket from the sofa and tug it over my shoulders.
"Wow mamma," Amanda whoops, "you're taking no prisoners tonight."
I'm dressed in a black mini skirt with a red lace corset top under my leather jacket, on my feet are a pair of red stilettos.
"Well I've been in that room studying all week, I'm ready to party!"
Amanda laughs and nods her head, handing me a shot of tequila to get the party started.
We pay the cab and step out into the warm Sicilian evening breeze. As a modern languages student, I get the privilege of studying for a year abroad and as Italian is one of my subjects, I'm spending a year here.
The beat of the music thuds through my body and reverberates in my chest, Amanda grins at me with excitement in her brown eyes.
"C'est incroyable!" She exclaims, in her excitement she momentarily forgets she's speaking in French.
It doesn't bother me, I took French A Level and am still learning it ready for my career as a translator.
"Oui c'est." I reply as Amanda hops up the steps of the lavish white villa with me following behind her.
Amanda pushes open the door and I walk in after her. The smell of alcohol and sweaty men fills my nostrils and I immediately feel over dressed.
Most of the other girls aren't wearing heels like I am, and my skirt is definitely shorter than anyone else's here, not that I care.
I've always been tall, with legs to match. Why shouldn't I show them off?
Amanda has already disappeared into the crowd, searching for something to drink, or someone to spend the evening with.
Holding my head high, I negotiate my way through the throng of bodies until I find a small space in a back room.
The music here is quieter and the heat is more bearable, this is my kind of party. With my back to the room, I spend a moment watching the partygoers.
People watching has always been one of my fondest pastimes, but in a small village it wasn't much fun. Here in Italy, the fun never stops.
