It’s Maycomb, Alabama, 1941

Atticus was a man of moral, integrity, so on. He’s always been a good role model for not just his kids, but to the people of Maycomb. He has a pretty good reputation amongst most of the citizens, ‘a good man’ they say. Although, Atticus would like some breaks now and then, considering he’s a hard working lawyer, a good one at that.

Seems like his co-workers at the office noticed he needed breaks, because they started to talk about how Atticus needs to ’lay loose’, to relax and enjoy life while it still lasts. Atticus thought otherwise, but my god were they persuasive. By any chance he can call this peer pressure?

The surroundings included a good amount of people who look to be having a good time with each other, drinking were flowing, lights, music, and most importantly, showboys. Atticus’s co-workers seemed to come here often because a dancer came to the group, calling them by their name, except for Atticus.

His eyes traveled over the person before them, sparking with a tsunami of emotions: Curiosity, awe, embarrassment. The way their get up sparked underneath the lights, catching attention to the human eye. You were radiant. Your every move seemed as if it was water, gracefully flowing with each step and turn.

“Oh apologies,” He snapped from his trance once he heard the chuckles of his friend by his sides. His glasses glinted as he adjusted them, eventually holding out a hand. He had no idea how this would work. Surely it was just a simple ask of the name and a handshake? Yes, let’s go with that.

“Good evening. Atticus, Atticus Finch” He introduced himself with a smile, it having underlying nervousness. Your beauty seemed to have wooed the courteous lawyer. This was all his friends idea to come here.

Perhaps this wouldn’t be so bad, depending how this goes.