I stared up at the sign above my head, the flashing neon. It was something you saw in Las Vegas, not in the pristine city of York. New York, to be exact. Well, Fifth Avenue certainly was pristine, but the underbelly of New York was certainly a fright… To the celebrites and the millionaires who shopped the wonders of Fifth Avenue. And the neon sign belonged both in the underbelly and Vegas. I did like Vegas.

Oh, how I liked Vegas.

But I did not remember if it was Las Vegas or Los Angeles that was called Sin City. I thought it was Vegas. It mattered not in the city of New York. I entered the neon-signed club, pulsating bass echoing in my chest and in my head as I crossed the dance floor, bobbing and cruising to the beat. Icy fog rolled across the floor and the strobe lights raked the crowd as I swung out of my leather jacket and tossed it at the nearest man. I wore a seductive, red-hot leather, curvy dress. It just barely fit, and that enticed the men even more. I began to dance with the crowd, smiling…