Tinny music came from the cracked speakers under the Tilt-A-Whirl across the way. Looking at the chipped and faded paint, marred here and there by rus... spots, Steve, who fancied himself a poetic soul at times, likened it to a pathetic attempt at a song of seduction sung by a wrinkled whore, long past her prime. *A whore,* he thought dejectedly. *That's what I'll have to find.* He had tried all of his own lines on the girls here, and then the ones his friends swore always worked. He'd even tried. They held hands as they walked; Paul enjoyed the expressions on the faces of the people they passed. Their gaze would always focus on Angel, especially the guys; you could see them take in her beauty, from her face, down her muscular body to her feet and back up again, and then they would look over at him. Some would give him an almost imperceptible nod and a wink; others would just stare at him in amazement.Since neither of them were into partying and the night life that the big hotels. More

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