Masquerade

Hello.
Hello.
I'm shy.
A girl stepping into an unknown world to become something more.
What's your name?
She blushes, and hesitates.
Life is a masquerade, and she does not yet know the rules.
Are you having fun?
Alcohol sips a drink in a corner, so handsome he's intoxicating.
The girl walks past the questioning dancer, eyes on the drinker.
He pulls her into his embrace, showering her with kisses and dark promises.
You can trust me.
The girl stays with him for a while.
The dancers are dancing too fast.
Alcohol's embrace is warm and guiding.
Have another drink.
She relies on him.
Life is a masquerade, but the girl has taken off her mask.
Alcohol has become nicer since she has opened herself up to him.
The dancers laugh at her, their faces sporadically coming into her view.
You really should go home.
Alcohol is her home now.
He brought a friend along a couple nights ago.
Nico Tine.
He says he's from New York.
They becomes fast friends.
Go home. Get help.
Life is a masquerade and the girls dress is torn.
Nico introduced her to Mr. Caine.
The girl no longer sees the dancers.
But they can see her.
The girl is gone longer and longer.
Each night, Alcohol waits for his lover.
She comes home on Thursdays.  
She won't tell him where she went.
She wont admit it.
Alcohol becomes angry.
She is no longer a girl and no longer his.
He sets out to regain.
A gun.
A bullet.
A noise.
Life is a masquerade, and the dancers drink champagne while stepping over the body of a middle aged woman.
There is a glass of whiskey in one hand and a syringe in the other.