In a game she called life, she was playing charades. The lipstick jungle she used to live with, have become her nature since God knows when. The night-life is her surname and fucking hard is her hobby.
This is a story of a girl who's life runs around on and off lights. Her name was Alovva. You can't see her when the sun is up, but her presence conquers the reign of umbra. In there city, these are all old stories, wild girls are ordinary.
She was handing in a case of cigarette when she felt that it was getting dark. She was wearing her evil grin as she presume to be going home again with dollars on her pouch. She was having her coffee warm-up on a convenient store meters away from the club she's working. Outside the store, there stood a young man looking deep and straightly right to where the club is. She was on her way to reaching out the guy when he suddenly entered the store. 'Nice jacket Mister'. She started the conversation. The guy, who has a very attracted pale blue eyes wondered. 'Are you talking to me, pretty lady?' She smiled upon hearing the 'pretty' term. This is it. She said to herself. First customer of the night. 'Who else would it be? You got a nice taste of jacket'. She said while seductively winking the tall guy before her. 'Thank you anyways. I love your complexion too, it looks nice on your velvet maroon dress paired with your fierce lipstick.' She was shocked. She then assumed the guy was a gay from his manner of appreciating her aura for that night. But then she has to win that guy so she can pay her debt. So she began her move. 'Why are you staring over there Mister?' Asked Alovva while pointing the club. 'I wanna get in there. I'm new here and I just want to unwind'. 'Oh, that's nice! I'm Alovva. I'm 20 years old. And you are?' 'Ferrous. 21 years old. Nice meeting you.' He said.
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