Prologue?

So yeah this is the thing that happened

                       Prologue

The rain fell heavily on the empty sidewalks of San Taddeo. The lively western city was wet and barren for once. Under the sign of the usually busy Saturn Tavern, Monica sulked. Her silken dress was a soggy mess, her phone was dead, and she hadn't a ride home since her boyfriend took her car to God knows where. She was alone--stranded at the bar with no place to go. Her short, blonde hair began to frizz from the rain, and she slid down the wall onto the cigarette butt-riddled ground. She rested her head on her knees, marking them with black lines from her eyeliner.

As she sat despairing, a young man stopped by, and stood under the sign with her.“Excuse me, miss?” he called down to her. Monica sniffed and shooed him away with a free hand. “Go away... please.” she mumbled into her legs. “Miss,”he repeated. “It's awfully late to be outside, especially in this part of town.” Monica shot her head up and glared at the man. He was a pale, rather lanky man with dyed pink hair that stayed perfectly curled under the safety of his umbrella. “Why do you care?” she hissed. The man shrugged. “The city's a terrible place to just be sitting alone in the dark, isn't it?” he asked. Monica looked back down at her knees. “You got a car?” she asked. The man shook his head. “Then it looks like I'm going to be sittin' then.” The man frowned,then sat next to her. “You should at least have some company if you're going to sit here,” he smiled. Monica turned away from him and tried to dry her eyes. “Was it boy trouble?” asked the man. “What the hell did you say?”

“I meant to ask what happened. I just assumed it was boy trouble because...”his voice trailed off as he watched Monica's lip trembled. “I... I...” she stammered. The man lightly patted her shoulder. “It's okay if you don't want to talk ab-”

“What does he see in that s**t?!” she screeched and punched the ground. “Do you know how many years I've been faithful to that stupid a*****e?!” The man shook his head quickly. “Listen here, Tim.”

“I-It's Salem.”

“Salem. We've been together for six years. Six. Goddamn. Years. And do you know what this guy does to me?” Salem bit his lip, afraid to answer her. He swallowed hard and piped up anyhow. “W-what?”. “He goes off with this Hispanic b***h named,” she paused, pulled her hair out her face and scrunched up her nose. “Catalina,” she slurred in a terrible Mexican accent. Salem opened his mouth in response, but was shut down again. “In my car. My freaking car I paid for with my own goddamn money! The one I worked two jobs to freaking buy! My own, stupid..” she grabbed Salem and cried into his shirt. Salem pulled the woman in close and hushed her, awkwardly patting her back. “It’s quite alright,” he assured her. “Thanks Tim,” she muttered. “It’s Sa-... You’re welcome,” he responded, forcing a smile. Monica sighed and curled into his arms until the rain died out. “How far do you live from here?” asked Salem, nudging her out of his embrace. Monica looked up. “About three or four blocks. Not too far from the college.”

“I could maybe walk you then. I should be heading down there by now anyway, it’s an hour past curfew.” Monica nodded and pulled herself up. “I’d like that.” Salem used his umbrella to pull himself up and hung it on the crook of his arm. “So uh, what’s your name? I don’t think I caught it,” he chuckled. Monica pushed the frizz from her face, returning the awkward laugh. “Monica. Monica Bohmer.” Salem gave a small bow and offered his arm. “Well Ms. Bohmer, allow me to escort you home,” he drawled. Monica shook her head in content disbelief and grabbed his arm. “Very much appreciated ,Timmy.”

“Do you uh… do you know someone else named Tim?” Monica’s grip tightened. “Don’t even get me started on Timothy Perkins. He makes the guy who stole my car seem like Jesus,” she growled. Salem’s lip began to quiver, and his left eye twitched frantically. He knew what was coming next, and there was nothing in his power that could stop it.

“And That was only Junior year of high school,” she roared. “Can you believe that? Do you even know what that did to my reputation?” Salem’s once crestfallen face was once again bright,as he hummed a blues tune to all of Monica’s rant and kicked a few glass bottles around as they walked. “My teachers didn’t trust me anymore.”

“ Da da da-da.”

“I couldn’t find another boyfriend at school for weeks.”

“Da da da-da”

“Then I ended up working at a broken burger joint, and dear God, it wreaked!”

“Oh baby, baby she got them blues!” Salem exclaimed, holding the umbrella to his face as if it a microphone. Monica stopped walking and stared at the man, holding back laughter. Salem continued scatting a moment before he realized he wasn't on stage. “Oh. Oh God, I’m sorry. I sort of got carried away,” he smiled. Monica shook her head. “No, no. It was kinda cute.” Salem blushed and looked down at his feet. “This is my stop anyway,” she said and nodded towards the little apartment building next to her. “Thanks for tonight,” she whispered.  Salem nodded. “Oh, no problem at all!” Monica adjusted her purse and walked up the stairs. Salem walked towards her, kicking the glass bottles to the bottom of the stairs. “Hey,” he called up to her. Monica turned around, her tanned cheeks taking on a rosy tone under the broken streetlights. “Yes?” she responded. Salem popped up his umbrella and hooked the heel of her shoes. “Bye,” he smiled and pulled the umbrella from under her.

Author's Note

First draft is always the one to make fun of.
Whoever makes the best joke gets a high-five [via the internet]

Reviews

[MAD ENGLISHMAN]

OK. This would definitely read better if it were paragraphed and punctuated correctly.
The initial idea seems it could lead anywhere, this is a good and a not so good situation depending on the synopsis.
Boy meets girl........then what ?
Not a new idea but then it would depend on what happens next.
You have used the word 'wreaked'. "Then I ended up working at a broken burger joint, and dear God, it wreaked!"
I assume you meant that it smelled bad and not got destroyed, in which case the word is "reeked".
There a few other small mistakes but they can be corrected by re reading before publishing.
Hope I'm not being to overly critical but I think you'd prefer me to be honest.
Best regards.
Clive.

[Peter Ravenport]

Mr. Clive, I want you to attack this thing. Thank you for your honest feedback. It's really appreciate it. I don't care if you set fire to my work, as long as it's helpful. How else will I get better? I'll be sure to revise this. Once again, Thanks a bunch, sir.

[MAD ENGLISHMAN]

The rain fell heavily on the empty sidewalks of San Taddeo. The normally lively western city was wet and barren for once. Under the sign of the usually busy Saturn Tavern, Monica sulked. Her silken dress was a soggy mess, her phone was dead, and she hadn't a ride home since her boyfriend took her car to God knows where. She was alone, stranded at the bar with no place to go.
The rain was begining to make her hair frizz. She slid down the wall onto the cigarette butt-riddled ground. Rested her head on her knees, marking them with black lines from her eyeliner.
As she sat despairing, a young man approached and stood under the sign close to her.
“Excuse me, miss?”. He called down to her.
Monica sniffed and shooed him away with a free hand.
“Go away... please.” she mumbled into her legs.
“My name's Salem,” he spoke in a soft calming manner.
“It's awfully late to be outside, especially in this part of town.”
Monica shot her head up and glared at the man. He was a pale, rather lanky man with dyed pink hair that stayed perfectly curled under the safety of his umbrella.
“Why do you care?” she hissed. The man shrugged.
“The city's a terrible place to just be sitting alone in the dark, isn't it?” he asked.
Monica looked back down at her knees.
“You got a car?” she asked. The man shook his head.
“Then it looks like I'm going to be staying.” Monica turned her head slightly to look at him.
The man raised his eye brows, then sat down next to her.
“You should at least have some company if you're going to sit here,” he smiled.
Monica turned away from him and tried to dry her eyes.
“Was it boy trouble?” asked the man.
“What the hell did you say?” Monicas' voice was angry.
“I meant to ask what happened. I just assumed it was boy trouble because...” His voice trailed off as he watched Monica's lip trembled.
“I... I...”. she stammered. The man lightly patted her shoulder.
“It's okay if you don't want to talk ab-” He never finished the sentence. Monica cut him short in mid speech.
“What does he see in that s**t?!” she screeched as she punched the ground.
“Do you know how many years I've been faithful to that stupid a*****e?!”
The man shook his head quickly.
“Listen here, Tim.”
“It's Salem.”
"What"
"It's Salem, not Tim"
“Salem." She turned again to see who it was sitting here in the rain with her.
" We've been together for six years. Six. Goddamn. Years. And do you know what this guy does to me?”. Salem bit his lip, afraid to answer her. He swallowed hard and piped up anyhow.
“No. what?”.
“He goes off with this Hispanic b***h, Catalina” she paused, pulled her hair out her face and scrunched up her nose. “Catalina,” she slurred in a mocking Mexican accent. Salem opened his mouth to respond, but was quickly shut down again. “In my car." "In my freaking car. The car, I, paid for with my own goddamn money! The one I worked two jobs to freaking buy! "My own, stupid..” she grabbed Salem and cried into his shirt.
Salem pulled the woman in close and hushed her, awkwardly patting her back.
“It’s quite alright,” he assured her.
“Thanks Tim,” she muttered.
“It’s Saaa... You’re welcome,” he responded with a slight smile. Monica sighed and curled into his arms until the rain died out. “How far do you live from here?” asked Salem, nudging her out of his embrace. Monica looked up.
“About three or four blocks. Not too far from the college.”
“I could maybe walk you then. I should be heading down there by now anyway, it’s an hour past curfew.”
Monica nodded and pulled herself up.
“I’d like that.”
Salem used his umbrella to pull himself up and hung it on the crook of his arm.
“So uh, what’s your name? I don’t think I caught it,” he chuckled. Monica pushed the frizz from her face, returning the awkward laugh.
“Monica. Monica Bohmer.” Salem gave a small bow and offered his arm.
“Well Ms. Bohmer, allow me to escort you home,” he continued. Monica nodded her head in contented relief and grabbed his arm.
“Very much appreciated ,Timmy.”
“Do you uh… do you know someone else named Tim?” Monica’s grip tightened.
“Don’t even get me started on Timothy Perkins. He makes the guy who stole my car seem like Jesus,” she growled.
Salem’s bottom lip began to quiver and his left eye twitched frantically.
“And that was only Junior year of high school,” she continued her rant.
“Can you believe that? Do you even know what that did to my reputation?” Salem’s once crestfallen face was again bright, as he started to gently hum a blues tune. As they walked arm in arm and Monica talked, they would occassional kick a glass bottle laying in the street.
“My teachers didn’t trust me anymore.”
“ Da da da-da.”
“I couldn’t find another boyfriend at school for weeks.”
“Da da da-da”
“Then I ended up working at a broken burger joint, and dear God, it reeked!”
“Oh baby, baby she got them blues!” Salem exclaimed, holding the umbrella to his face as if it a microphone.
Monica stopped walking and stared at the man, holding back laughter. Salem continued miming for a moment before he realized he wasn't on stage.
“Oh. Oh God, I’m sorry. I sort of got carried away,” he smiled. Monica shook her head.
“No, no. It was kinda cute.” Salem blushed and looked down at his feet.
“This is my stop anyway,” she said and nodded towards the little apartment building next to her.
“Thanks for tonight,” she whispered. Salem nodded.
“Oh, no problem at all!”
Monica adjusted her purse and started walking up the steps. Salem walked towards her,
“Hey,” he called up to her. Monica turned around, her tanned cheeks taking on a rosy tone under the broken streetlights. “Yes?” she responded. Salem popped open his umbrella.
“Bye,” he smiled. Salem turned to walk away. After a couple of steps her looked back. Monica was looking back at him.

[Peter Ravenport]

You made it pretty! Thank you! Though I have decided I'm going to change the last bit, this was helpful along the lines of grammar and such.

[MAD ENGLISHMAN]

I'm glad you can gain something from it. I hope the story continues. Look forward to reading how it develops. Best regards.
Clive.

[SpeedyHobbit Armstrong]

Well this is most definitely a boy meets girl showcasing! Might I suggest adding more description to show the external nuances manifested by the characters? I'd also love to see their thoughts; I'd love to see the logic that kept the guy from being scared off by the girl giving WAY too much information