One sweet dream. Pick up your bags and get in the limosine. Soon, we'll be away from here. Step on the gas and wipe that tear away.

(Yep.)

Myrah: "At least we're understood," I say as I turn my head. "Now are we here yet?"

k just checking

Stark: "Just a little while longer," I muttered before turning and moving down an alleyway, "We're close."

Myrah: Suddenly, I realize a few things. One, I'm being led down a series of dark alleyways by a douchey druggie who's hinted at how "vulnerable" I'm about to be. Two, Despite all this, I'm strangly not as worried as I should be. Maybe Gray slipped something into that sushi I had...

Larry's heart is going to be broken - I just got this feeling it is.

(Sorries Larry!)

Stark: I glanced at her, "You okay?" I asked, my voice low. There were people who came down here that weren't so kind. It was better not to be loud for others to hear.

(Yea...sorry Larry!)

Myrah: "Hm? Oh." I shake my head. "I'm just trying to decide whether or not I need to murder a coworker." We start to walk further and further from the main road and wrap my arms around my stomach. He did say this was underground. "How did you even find out about this place?" I ask.

He'll get through it.

^Psh, yeah right. He never will. Myrah's like...the love of his pathetic little life.

Stark: "A friend of a friend told me about it. I once spent five weeks down here without knowing it." I found the door and knocked on it slowly, "It's a good get away for us alcoholics."

(Oh gosh....when the shit hits the fan, it's gonna be craziness.)

Myrah: A haven for alcoholics, hm? Hopefully it won't be that bad...hopefully. I nervously click my heels together as I wait for the door to open. "By the way, you're paying for this little bet."

I have no idea what that expression means.

Stark: "I'm already hooked up for this place, I don't need any money," I explained as the door slid open and a small guy with a long black beard nodded at me. I grabbed Myrah's arm and quickly pulled her along, "Don't look anyone else in the eyes, okay?"

XDD Me either!!

That's my favorite expression! It basically means when everyone finds out or when the truth comes out.

Myrah: I frown as he starts to pull me but do as I'm told. After all, some of these people might recognize me from the Cirque. And that isn't as bad as some of the things I'd imagined could happened in the few seconds since we'd stepped through the doorway. "Ok, let's get this over with..."

Stark: We came up to the huge room the people who don't have enough money sit in and beg to be let inside. I pulled her faster toward the door that leads to the actual bar, pushing away some of the homeless men. "Finally," I muttered when I slammed the door shut behind us.

Myrah: All those poor, poor people. I sigh and lean against the doorway, closing my eyes for a moment. "That was worse than groupies trying to get into the VIP section at a club. What was that about?" I ask as I start to look around. The actual bar isn't so bad compared to the other room, but still...

Stark: "The guy who owns this place thinks he's housing the poor," I shrugged and sat at a stool at the bar, "Pretty freaky, I know, but he thinks he's doing something good. Anyway, since this place doesn't show day nor night, we can stay and drink as long as it takes us."

Myrah: That's right, back to why we were here. I sit down next to him and swallow. "So what kind of shots are we doing? Tequila? Vodka?"

Stark: I grinned, "I'm pretty sure you've never heard of it. It's a new kind of shot, one that no other bar knows about yet." I winked at her, "But don't worry, I've tested it before."

Myrah: I wince. Oh god, I'm really gonna die tonight. Right here, right now, in the middle of this random bar. And then the crazy people outside will ravage my body for money and clothes and then Mat and Larry won't ever know what happened to me and the scary owner will just throw me in the garbage or feed me to his dogs or the crazy people and then I'll end up on milk cartons and everyone will be going "What ever happened to that Myrah girl?" My grip on the bar tightens a bit but I smirk. "Well it can't be too bad then, right? Let's get started."

Hullo world! (those people were here for nine freaking hours...0.o)

Hey Ende!
And oh gosh...that sounds lovely. O.o

Did you talk to your stalker?

they were just some friends...er, kinda. The oldest of the three was eleven, and I spent more time with their parents >.< I was glad they left...is that mean? Anyway, I did talk to the stalker for about thirty minutes though. He said some mildly creepy things

And I actually have two stalkers, well, not really stalkers but guys that have creepy crushes on me