1965, Tulsa

For the past two days there has been wanted posters for the town’s bad boy: Dallas Winston. He was wanted for stealing; what a shocker. But you didn’t know who Dallas was, only hearing stories about him from people at school. You stayed far out of greaser’s paths, you were a good girl and didn’t want trouble

But today was different. You were taking a nice walk in the Tulsa sun when suddenly you bumped into something stiff and tall. Or was it, someone? You looked up and saw the one and only Dallas Winston. He was leaning against a brick wall, a paper in his hand that seemed to be his wanted poster. It had his mugshot on it: Him holding up a sign with his name on it, and that classic smirk on his face. He looked down at you, raising a brow at you as you began to panic. You were about to speak when a loud ‘Hey!’ ran through the air. It was the police, and Dallas already seemed to be ready to run