More Than Just A Dream || Thomas Sangster Imagines

[1] At The Club

"Do I really have to wear this?"

You looked in the full body mirror of the dressing room to see the short, black sequined dress your best friend, Ashley picked out. (If your name is Ashley, I'm sorry, you can change the name.)

"Yes," she said, dragging out the 's'. "You promised to come with me to the club tonight and I don't want you wearing your regular 'jeans and a t-shirt' style. There may be some cute boys there, so you need to look hot."

She put her hands on your shoulders and spun you around to face her. She bit her lip in thought as she looked you up and down.

"Eh, it's okay, but I think you need something shorter and tighter," she suggested.

"What? No!" You shouted, shoving her out of the dressing room. "I said I would go, but I don't need to look like a... slut for it. This is good enough."

She giggled and leaned against the door once you locked it. "Okay, but I just wanted to boost your chances of getting laid."

You shouted at her once again, clarifying that you didn't need to get laid, that's not what this night was for.

Once you were dressed in your normal clothes, you walked out of the dressing room with the dress folded neatly. You walked to the counter and payed for the dress, Ashley paying for hers as well.

And then you guys were out the door and driving home.

- t i m e s k i p -

You looked at your phone for the time. 8:43. Where was Ashley? She was supposed to pick you up at 8:30.

All of the sudden, your phone went off. You opened it up to find a text message from Ashley.

"Sorry... Bryan offered to take me to the club and I couldn't refuse. I hope you'll still find a way to come. ☹️"

"Of course," you chuckled bitterly. "Why wouldn't she ditch me for her rich boyfriend?"

You grabbed your keys and walked out the door and drove to the club.

Once you got in, you immediately went to find Ashley. She was over by the bar, Bryan's arm around her as they talked and laughed.

Anger boiled inside of you. This wasn't the first time she'd done something like this and every time, she acted like it was nothing.

You stormed over to her with clenched fists and gritted teeth.

"That's for bringing me here," you mocked, annoyed. "You're a really great friend."

"Y/n?" She asked, confused and fake hurt. "I told you I was sorry, what more do you want?"

"I want you to actually be a good friend for once."

"I am a good friend."

"Yes, because good friends invite their friends places and then ditch them for their boyfriend, right, sorry," you rolled your eyes and walked off.

As you moved closer to the exit, you got more lost and thought and weren't paying attention to where you were going.

Soon enough, you ran into a warm strong body and they stumbled back, spilling their drink on you.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry," the person, a young man with sandy blond hair, dark brown eyes, and pale skin, apologized.

"Oh, no. It's okay, it was my fault. I should've payed attention to where I was going."

He smiled at you and put his hand out toward you. "Here, follow me."

You hesitated for a second, but then decided he seemed nice enough and put your hand in his.

He pulled you toward the back of the bar and called out to one of the bartenders.

"Hey, George? Can we get some napkins?"

"Sure," the man, now known as George, said and brought some napkins.

The sandy haired man grabbed a napkin and kneeled down to dry off my dress.

"May I?" He asked politely, I just nodded my head in approval.

He started to dab at the dress, getting the drink he spilled off.

"My name's Thomas by the way," he spoke suddenly.

It was so loud in there that you barely heard him, but you still did.

"Y/n," You replied, smiling.

He cleaned off the last of the dress and put the napkin down, standing up.

"Well, Y/n, would you maybe like to dance?"

"I'd love to, Thomas."

And there you were, dancing into the early morning, smiles plastered on both of your faces.