Henry Mills/Jared Gilmore Imagines

The Date That Goes Wrong

- Jared Gilmore -

~edited~

Jared's neighbor goes on a date with a rich boy.

Warnings: mentions of rape; bigotry; sexism

"I can't believe I agreed to go on this stupid date," you say, "I don't even know the guy. Other than he's rich and probably spoiled as hell,"

"Cmon, Y/N. Give him a chance," Jared says, his voice static from the horrible cell connection on the phone, and he says encouragingly, "Not all rich guys are snobs,"

You nod as you zip up your dress. With your phone lying on the bed, and speaker phone on, Jared says, "You look beautiful,"

"You can't even see me, Jared," you say.

"I can sense it," he says.

Jared is your apartment neighbor. He lives in the apartment right across from you, but right now he's as the
store. So you're calling him for some luck.

Jared is also your best friend.

He's always there for you no matter what.

"Cute," I reply, "What are you doing tonight?"

"Star Wars marathon,"

"What?!" You exclaim, "Its Friday night and the great Jared Gilmore is having a Star Wars marathon,"

"Hey, you make it sound like a bad thing," he defends.

"It's just; you're the one that said I should get out more. So here's me getting out. And you're at home. Watching movies. You lucky duck," you say as you grab your purse, "When are you going to find yourself a woman?"

"I have,"

You stop short on your tracks, "What?"

"Well...."

"Who is she?"

"I found her. She just hasn't found me," he says, "She's beautiful and we've known each other for a while,"

"Weird way to put it," you say, "Okay. I gotta go. Wish me luck,"

"You don't need it. You're charming enough," he says, and hangs up the phone.

-

When he pulls up with his red Ferrari in the driveway, I already know that I do not like this "Charlie Copper."

I rush down the stairs and greet him.

He gets out of the car and raises his eyebrows one he sees me.

I greet him, "Hey Charlie,"

"Excited to see me?" he asks.

"Excited to eat," you argue.

"Alright," he says. He reaches for the door, as if he were going to open it, but you open it first and let yourself in.

You hear him mumble, "Well okay then," before returning to his side of the car and letting himself in.

He stares at the road, and begins driving, "Just a little background info on the car......"

And as he lists on about horsepower and engine power and years, I know this is going to be a horrible date.

-

When we reach the restaurant, he pulls up to the front, parking in a fire lane.

"This is a fire lane," you point out.