𝐌𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐍𝐞𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐈𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬

✿︎ 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥 ✿︎

─┈▨⃟⁕✺⃟ ݆݅༞ ✿°.•ꦿ•.°✿ ݆݅༞✺⃟⁕▨⃟┈─



─┈▨⃟⁕✺⃟ ݆݅༞ ✿°.•ꦿ•.°✿ ݆݅༞✺⃟⁕▨⃟┈─

My aunt was going on a cruise this Christmas, and I certainly did not want to go. I loved my aunt, but I didn't feel like spending Christmas on a boat. The next best thing was to get a babysitter.
I was definitely old enough to look after myself. I was twenty years old, so I had no clue why my aunt wanted me to go live with some stranger for ten days.
I was in my room, packing a suitcase full of clothes that'll last me these next miserable ten days when my aunt came into the room.

"Y/N. The babysitters are here." She said, standing in the doorway.

"Just a second." I said after I scoffed loudly. I zipped the suitcase up and followed my aunt out of the room.
My aunt entered the living room, while I stayed behind and watched as she spoke with them for a moment. Not only was there a babysitter, but four babysitters who looked just about the same age as I was. They were four boys who had long hair like The Beatles did. They didn't have a Beatle haircut, but they had long hair, which my Aunt never really liked. I looked at each of them individually; one that was really short, another with wild hair, one that wouldn't stop smiling, even though the other three were mad about the babysitting job, and one, who stuck out to me, with long sideburns, and he was really tall.

"We don't know anything about babysitting! I mean, those little things take a lot of attention." The tall one said. This was my cue to stop hiding and to be courageous.

"All that would be necessary if I were a child," I spoke up, leaving the corner I was in, "the fact of the matter is, gentlemen, I'm not." They all looked at me for a moment before my aunt told me goodbye. She left the room, which left the five of us alone. They continued to look at me, not saying a word.
"So," I started, "what are your names?"

"I'm Davy. You're beautiful." Davy said, taking a step towards me. I gave him a weird look and turned to the smiling one, who wasn't smiling anymore.

"I'm Peter." He smiled again.

"Hi there, I'm Micky."

"And uh, I'm Mike." He smiled at me and I smiled back at him. We stood there for just a moment before I just wanted to leave the house I was in and see what their place looked like.

"Please take my hand. It gives my aunt a feeling of security." I said, grabbing Mike's hand and leading all of them out of the house. What I said wasn't true at all. I just wanted to hold his hand.
We all went to their car, which they called the Monkeemobile, and spent the ride talking and learning more about each other. They explained to me how they were a struggling band (we're in tv land here) and how they didn't know they were babysitting. They had came to my house because they thought there was a party. Ridiculous. Why would my aunt tell them that? But, the more and more I learned about the each of them, the more fond of them I became. Especially Mike.
We soon arrived at what they called their 'pad.' Even though I was a typical young adult, my aunt didn't like me to use modern slang. I was brought up in a much more serious manner.

"So, this is the place we call home." Mike introduced the house to me. "What do you think?"

"Well," I said examining the place, "it's, uh, nice." I leaned against the table that was next to the couch, but it collapsed. "Sorry."