She's really wet.

I guess that's what she gets for standing in the rain.

He is dry and warm, as he sits in his car, jamming to Smells Like Teen Spirit. He's so caught up in the song that he almost doesn't see her waving her arms on the side of the road.

The first time he meets the girl is cliché.

Well, at least that's what he thinks.

She continues to wave her arms above her messy brown hair that has started sticking to her face. She's so soaked that her white, somewhat see through dress is starting to stick to her body- and he is sure to notice that.

He finally pulls over. The young boy always has time for a damsel in distress. Especially a damsel that looks like her.

"Need a lift?" He says with a wink as soon as he rolls down the window. The damsel nods as she opens the car door and hops inside.

"Where you headed?" He asks.

The damsel takes her time refreshing her bright red makeup, before replying "nowhere in particular."

"You got a place to stay?"

Despite being in a tight space, she lights up a cigarette.

"Nope."

He takes her to his shithole apartment.

"What's your name?" He says, leading the damsel up the stairs.

"Vienna Lace."

"Dexter." He replies, sticking the key in the lock and throwing the door open. "Got a last name?"

"No need for one."

They walk inside and she watches him take off his coat and his shoes, tossing them to the floor as he does so. Sketches and photographs of all different shapes, colors, and sizes cover every wall.

"You an artist?" She asks.

"Kind of." He tells her. "Wouldn't understand. No one does."

She adjusts her tight dress, and watches as he pulls out two glasses and sets them on the round coffee table in front of her.

"Wine?"

They drink up all the wine.

They do a lot of things that night.

Come morning, Dexter's clothes are all over his living room floor, and he finds himself naked on the couch, only covered by a thin sheet. The damsel, who called herself Vienna, was no where to be found.

His wallet is also empty. All that sits inside of it is a note that reads "Just because no one understands you, doesn't make you an artist."

The only thing that poor dexter is left with is a raging hangover that he doesn't have any pills to treat.