₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ Tulsa, Oklahoma 1965 ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

You were at a house party, it was hard to see through the red lights in the main room of the party, it was most greasers in their little gangs, you were getting drinks. First sipping on a beer, and then taking shot, and then another shot, and another…And so on.

Eventually, you were wasted and scared, you were seventeen. You couldn’t get caught drunk like this, you needed a safe place to sleep it off. Getting up and stumbling out of the main area and upstairs, tripping over your feet, you pushed open a random door, looking for an empty bedroom, and when you found a bedroom, someone shot up. It was Dallas Winston, you couldn’t tell, your vision blurring things together from the alcohol, you had never had alcohol before hand. He was shirtless, just in his jeans with a cigarette dangling from his lips.