CAMERON MONAGHAN IMAGINES

I Don't Like Gingers. (Cameron)

"Uhhh...truth!" Dare is the scarcer option among ladies who haven't been drinking. It often entails kissing, flirting, sex, or more drinking, especially in the club environment.

Amanda takes a sip of her martini. "Hmmm..." She ponders. You listen in, like a puppy awaiting its cookie.

The roaring music makes any word sound like a mumble, so you have to pay close attention.

"Favorite eye color, least favorite hair color." 

No problem. "Blue, duhh. And red." You answer without doubt.

Amanda nods. "So why not red? Not into the whole firecrotch thing?" Yeah, leave it to Amanda to make things dirty rather than romantic.

"Dunno. It's the freckles, the curly hair, the pink lips. I would rather stick to someone normal looking." With that, your friend beside you smacks your arm.

"Never waste a good dick! Red haired or not!"

You're not sure how the penis part was relevant.

Your blonde friend, Michelle returns from buying another drink. You are all forced to squeeze tight in the booth.

"Y/N doesn't like gingers!" Amanda announces.

Who cares, though. You roll your eyes.

"Wierdo." Michelle drops the comment and moves on. "Ladies! I got us a man table!" This was her terminology for a table of men they could pick from, pretty self explanatory.

The girls cheer and twitch their drunken faces to the direction of their prey.

4 men slouch in their chairs, dressed in fancy suit attire. Every one of them looks clean and classy. They sip what looks like a vodka concoction. They make small talk between themselves and pay no mind to the crowd of intoxicated girls ogling them.

"Michelle, Truth or Dare." You distract the women from their eye candy.

"Dare."

"I dare you to..." You take a moment to ponder the idea. "Go to the man table and massage either of the guys shoulders."

"Consider it done." She scoots out of the seat and struts across the club. You can tell walking is already difficult for her based on the unsteadiness of her stilettos.

The girls at your table hush themselves to observe Michelle's tactic. First, she greets the men, flipping her hair like some dumb blonde. Next, she paces behind a brunette man. He has very good looks. His long locks stand up to the ceiling, eyebrows groomed. Michelle's hands smooth out his suit, then she goes in for the kill, massaging every inch of skin on his shoulders. She did play the sexy card well.

She says her goodbyes and walks back triumphantly, blowing on the tip of her finger gun.

"Well done!" Amanda says. 

"Hey Y/N. Truth or dare." Michelle confronts you.

You decide to live wildly. You can handle whatever task she spits at you. "Dare."

"Okay." Her devious mind conjuring a plan. "I dare you to kiss the ginger boy at the man table."

The other girls giggle in excitement. "I don't get to choose?"

"All the more reason to kiss him! Explore a little!"

This is going to be horrendous. You need more drinks in you to acquire the confidence needed. "Give me some time?" You request.

The others whine and Michelle replies. "It's a dare. Gotta do it."

You sigh with irritation and stand, straightening your tight gold dress. Here goes nothing.