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Minho was beginning to think he wasn't as smooth with girls as he originally thought he was.
Don't get it twisted, he knew he was handsome. He was smart. He was (usually) nice. He was witty and sarcastic. Girls had always liked him. He'd never had a problem getting a date, even back in school. During Valentine's Day, multiple girls would send him letters, chocolate, and flowers. He was always the one to break hearts, not the other way around. People always regarded him as being smooth and cool. He was one of the hot guys.
You were an interesting mix. On one hand, you were a rebellious, angry girl who broke the rules at every turn. You didn't listen to teachers, you didn't listen to your parents, and you didn't care what anyone else thought about you. You hung out with the kids Minho would consider burnouts, even though you were smart when you wanted to be. Most people were a little scared of you, because you seemed kind of like a bitch.
Despite that, you were always the prettiest girl in the room. You turned heads, literally, no matter where you were. You were the reason a dress code existed, because your skimpy outfits had boys open-mouth staring in class. You would get routinely reprimanded, but that never stopped you. Guys would stand in line to ask you and your friends out, because you were the hot.
But for some reason, you always seemed to be single. You didn't really date around, even though you had options.
To be fair, Minho didn't really date around much either, when he realized that he had a crush on Alaska. He had to admit, he got a little hyper-focused on pursuing her, even when - especially when - he realized she was unattainable. That was just one thing on the long list of his girl-related fuck-ups.
But now, as he sat across from you in the limo, on your way to an unknown mansion for some crazy dating show, he wondered... should he really be chasing Alaska anymore? And more importantly, did he want to?
