.:{Imagines}:. ~ IM5

Dana Imagine for Anon

***

I know not a lot of people like leaving their names, but it would be nice if you did! Again, I hope you enjoy!

~ Alana

***

You didn't want to go.

To be honest, you would rather be at home listening to your own music than to some dumb boy-band. IM5, who were they anyways? You had no clue, you were just there for moral support.

You borrowed a shirt from your friend that had the band's logo plastered against your chest, front and center.

Great.

The entire car ride there was full of regret. You were going to the meet-and-greet, too. Somehow, your friends had managed to convince you to do all this, much to your dismay. You could never let them down. But what would you say? Hey, I don't know you. Bye.

Nevertheless, you had gotten yourself into it and there was no getting out.

The venue was huge, already packed with fans. You'd hoped that maybe you'd all sit in the back, where you couldn't see anything, but no, your seats were right in front.

You groaned, taking your seats. You were all almost late, so as soon as you'd gotten comfortable, the lights dropped, and music blasted out from each side of the stage. Preppy and totally pop, sadly. You were more of a rock girl.

The boys stepped out, each looking respectively different. One was blonde, a tall Asian boy, a Hispanic boy, a muscular boy with brown hair, and another in a snapback and varsity jacket that read "VAUGHNS 23". You rolled your eyes, dazed off the entire preformance. Yes, they were talented. Extremely. But not your taste.

You caught the boy in the varisty jacket staring at you a few times. You'd always shift in your seat and brush it off awkwardly, refusing to make eye contact. Maybe he wasn't. Maybe you were just crazy.

***

After the show, fans filed backstage for the meet-and-greet with the boys. You lazily stumbled behind your overly-excited friend, who clutched letters and other little gifts to the boys in her violently shaking hands.

"Can you believe this, {Y/N}?! We're meeting THE IM5!"

You scoffed. "Wow. Crazy."

It was finally your turn. While your friend babbled crazily to the boys all at once (to which they politely answered), you hung back, pretending to examine your nails.

A familiar voice piped up. "Excuse me?"

Your head whipped up, and the boy from earlier was starting at you with a small smile. "Yeah?" you mumble.

"May I ask what your name is?"

You bit back a groan. "None-of-your-business," you hissed. "It was my mom's name," you added, sarcastically.

He laughed, which made me angrier. "Well, 'None-Of-Your-Business, I'm Dana Vaughns. You're way to pretty to be so mean."

You scoffed, grabbing my friend by the arm and pulling her away as she approached him.

"Don't talk to this one," you warned. "He's deadly."

Your friend thrashed in your arms. "What?! {Y/N}, put me down!" She kicked until you finally let go. "What's your problem?" she hissed. "He's fine! And..." she smirked. "... totally into you."

You blushed, unintentionally. "What! No! He's just being a prick!"

She poked at you and giggled. "A cute prick."

"Dude," you object, putting a dismissive hand up.

"Ask him for his number!"

"WHAT?! Hell no!"

"C'mon! I dare you! You never give up dares."

You huffed, and your heart sank. You never did. You wouldn't; you couldn't. You wouldn't let her see you wimp out over a stupid boy. You could get his number easily, anyways. Like she said, he was into you.

You stalked right up to him, glaring a bit.

"Hey, pretty boy."

His head snapped up, and he grinned after a moment. "Oh, hey gorgeous," he purred.

You winced, trying to pretend he didn't say that. You hold out your arm, and a marker.

"Number. Now."

He raised his eyebrows, smirking, but instantly obeyed. His hand touched yours for a moment, sending a jolt of electricity up your spine.

Yup. She so owed you for this.

***

Hope you enjoyed!

~ Alana