Ross Lynch Imagines

New York City

"Helen, get over here!" A mother screeched, snatching her child in her arms. "This is New York City, baby. It's a big city. Not save for little girls like you." The child's mother softly scolded her.

You sat there on a bench in Central Park, watching people go on with their daily lives. It was a Saturday and your whole family decided to take a day trip to the largest city in the United States of America; NYC.

It was nearing four in the evening, and you stayed on one of the benches eating a hot dog while your little sister and parents went off to the M&M store.

Suddenly the use to be empty spot next to you was now taken by a boy that looked around your age. You glanced over at him, fully taking in his appearance.

Luscious bleach blonde hair that covered his ears, but has sunglasses on his head, pushing his hair back—nonetheless, it was a sexy look. He had on tight black jeans, beaten up black converses, a white tee, with a black leather jacket to top it off. He didn't seem like a gloomy, dark person...he simply seemed to just like wearing the color black. You also couldn't help but notice he had earphones in his ears, connected to his iPhone and his large right hand was tapping on his knee to the beat of whatever he was listening to.

Very cute. You thought to yourself, biting your lip to prevent a smile from forming. You also examined the numerous amount of rings on his fingers, the one on the ring finger had an R on it.

You glanced down at the half eaten hot dog in your hands, not feeling so hungry anymore. You quickly threw it out in the trash can next to you, and tried coming up with a plan so you could talk to this gorgeous blonde R guy.

Maybe I should scream and pretend there is a bug on me? You thought, but shook your head. It was way too silly, and you would just appear stupid.

You took out your phone, checking to see if you received any missed calls or texts from your family. You received none.

You studied the teenage boy again, but he was still drowned in his own world. He didn't seem interested in talking to you, and didn't even seem to notice your presence.

With a sigh, you got up and started to walk away, but something clasped around your wrist, pulling you back.

It was him.

  "Do you have something to say?" He released your wrist, taking his earbuds out his ears.

"Excuse me?" You hummed, playing the dumb card.

"You were looking at me for quite sometime," he stated, causing heat to rise to your cheeks. How did he know? "If staring at me like a creepy stalker is your way of getting someone's attention, then you better start working on that."

You were appalled at the words coming out of his lips. This boy is nice to look at, but not to communicate with.

"I wasn't looking at you," you huffed. "I was watching the little pigeons eating out of the bird feeder." You pointed to the flock of pigeons in fact eating at the exact spot.

"Nice stuttering," he chuckles, fixing his black sunglasses on top of his head. "Now, are you going to tell me the real reason why you were looking at me or are you gonna stutter a bunch of lame excuses?"

"Well aren't you very rude," you crossed your arms over your chest, looking down at him. "No offense, but why would I look at a dickface like you?"

The boy growled, standing up—basically towering over you. You gulped, instantly regretting this whole thing. This is New York City, full of insane people and you should of never messed with this dude.