Meeting You (Chris Pratt Fanfic)

Chapter 1

I sat at the bar drinking away my sorrows and texting my best friend. I was telling her all of my problems and how I didn't feel good about myself right now. Today I auditioned for a movie and really thought I would get the role. I put so much time and effort into trying to understand the character, but the casting directors didn't even consider me. That was the 100th time I got rejected for a movie, and on top of that, I caught my boyfriend of 6 months cheating on me with my acting teacher. Life was just hell for me right now.

Emily: What are you going to do now?

Me: I don't know. But right now I'm going to drink until I can't move. Wanna join?

Emily: no, but I'll go pick you up. Where r u?

Me: a bar.

Emily: which bar?

Me: this one.

Emily: ugh! You're so difficult when you're drunk. R u at the one downtown?

Me: lol, maybe.

Emily: I'm on my way. Don't do anything stupid.

I rolled my eyes and shoved my phone back into my pocket before downing another shot of cold, dull tequila. It wasn't my preferred drink, but it was what I could afford.

"To 20 million on opening weekend!!" I heard a guy shout before the group of people just a few feet away from where I sat started chanting Guardians! Guardians!

I turned around to see what was going on and mumbled, "ugh, shut up." Before turning my attention back to the bartender. "Keep 'em coming." I ordered.

Just as the bartender was pouring more alcohol into my glass, the guy that had shouted earlier walked up and asked for another round of drinks.

"10 more please!" He said before looking over at me with an annoyingly enthusiastic smile. I faked a polite smile before turning back to my drink with a look of sheer exasperation.

"Hey, how's it going?" He greeted nicely.

I groaned in response and looked away, hoping the guy would leave. Luckily, it worked. When I turned back around the guy had gone back to his group of friends.

A while later, the guy walked back to the bar and this time looked determined to speak to me.

"Hi again." He said. Once again, I ignored him.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

I was going to walk away, but by now I was far beyond my drinking capacity. My thoughts, somewhat clouded, made me decide to tell this guy my problems. Bedsides, I'll probably never see him again anyways. Being as drunk as I was, I didn't even think twice about the consequences of telling a complete stranger about how terrible I was feeling. 

"No." I answered. "I'm far from ok."

"Whats wrong?" He asked as he took the seat beside me.

"Aren't you supposed to be with your friends?" I asked in a grouchy tone. Well, more like a drunk tone.

"They're all dancing." He said.

"You should go join them." I rudely hinted for him to leave, despite having already decided to talk to him.

"I'm not much of a dancer." he admitted.

"Oh my gosh," I looked at him in disbelief, "Me either!" 

He chuckled, probably realizing that I had had too many drinks already. "So what's got you down?" he asked. His body was now turned towards mine. One arm was resting on the bar, with his head rested on his palm.