𝐌𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐍𝐞𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐈𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬

✿︎ 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐌𝐚𝐲 𝐁𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞 ✿︎

─┈▨⃟⁕✺⃟ ݆݅༞ ✿°.•ꦿ•.°✿ ݆݅༞✺⃟⁕▨⃟┈─

─┈▨⃟⁕✺⃟ ݆݅༞ ✿°.•ꦿ•.°✿ ݆݅༞✺⃟⁕▨⃟┈─

My best friend, Micky, had set me up on a blind date for the night. He told me that it was one of his closest friends, and he was also in his band. I was very excited to meet him, but I was nervous, too.
I decided not to wear anything too fancy. I was wearing a black mini skirt and a white turtleneck, my hair down, as I hated putting it up. I put on my black flats and finished doing my makeup before sitting in my living room, waiting for my blind date to arrive. I sat there waiting for about ten minutes before I heard the doorbell ring, so I quickly stood up and got to the door. When I opened it, the most beautiful man I had ever laid eyes on was standing there. He was wearing a light brown suit and had on some pink glasses. I found myself staring at him for a moment before he spoke up.

"Are you Y/N?" He asked, lifting his sunglasses to the top of his head. I got out of my trance and nodded.
"Great, I'm Mike." He said with a small smile.

"Nice to meet you, Mike." I said, putting my hand out so he could shake it. Instead, he turned my hand over and placed a kiss on it, causing me to blush.
"Where are we going tonight?" I asked.

"Well, I was thinking of taking you to, uh, a local diner. Well, it isn't really local here, it's more near my place." He chuckled.

"That sounds great." I answered, "I'll just go get my purse and we'll be off." I went back into my house and grabbed my purse before coming back outside, locking the door behind me.
We both linked arms and made our way to his car. When we both entered, he started the car, pulled out of the driveway, and started driving.

"So, what do you do for a living?" He asked.

"Well, I really don't do...anything." I had gotten fired from my job a week before.

"What do you mean 'don't do anthin'?' You got a two floor house and your a grown woman, sure you have a job." He laughed softly.

"Well, I did until I got fired last week." I frowned and looked out the window.

"Why would they fire a girl like you? Where did you work?"

"I worked at a clothing store called Zilch. The owner gave me a good amount of money because he thought I was pretty, but then he just fired me." I looked at him. He looked annoyed, and I didn't know why.

"No kiddin'. My best friend owns that store. Davy Jones, right?" He looked at me with a smile.

"Yeah, that's it. What a coincidence." We both chuckled.

"Well, why didn't you like him?" He asked.

"He isn't my type," I answered with a smirk, "however, my type are cute Southern boys." He looked at me, chuckling.