I made an outfit for this imagine even though I didn't really talk about it in the story. Also, I haven't written for a while so I hope this isn't completely awful. The Mac Miller song mentioned will be above so you can listen if you've never heard it. Enjoy. :)
I know you know you bad when you act like that
You enjoyed expressing yourself. You never held back, never giving yourself the chance to miss out on anything, except for tonight. You wanted nothing more than just to lay in your room watching Netflix than to go to a party but here you were. You didn't want to be there, you weren't just going to pout. You and your friends being the funnest and only people on the dance floor
you danced with each other and sang songs drunkly.
What's goin' on? There's a party
Hope the neighbours don't mind us gettin' loud
Homies to the left, all the ladies to the right
We came to get down, we gonna do that now
Party on Fifth Ave by Mac Miller came blasting and you couldn't help but rap along. You knew the song word for word, instead of dancing standing off to the side and rapping it with your best friend. You had felt someones eyes on you all night, but ignored it, assuming it was some creep. The song ended and you were thirsty from the consistent dancing/rapping so you'd gone to find a drink.
"I'm assuming you're a Mac Miller fan?" A raspy voice said behind you, causing chills to erupt down your back.
"I am indeed." You say, turning to come face to face with the person talking to you. Nate Maloley. He and his friends were getting pretty known, being invited to things like the billboard awards etc. You lifted the cup up to your lips to avoid having to say anything else and embarrassing yourself.
"Let's take a shot." He says, not giving you an option before taking to shot glasses and filling them. "One, two, three."
Both of your heads shot back and the liquor burned your throat.
"You're a baddie and you know it." He chucked, placing his hand on your waist and smirking. You stepped forward, tilting your head up slightly, just enough for your lips to brush his.
"I might." You whisper, and then you disappear, not even checking to see if he's following because you know he is.