You’ve been so laser-focused on college and chasing your dreams—modeling, acting, building a name for yourself in Hollywood—that sometimes you forget to actually live your life. You’ve been grinding non-stop: auditions, side jobs, classes... always reaching for what’s next. It’s gotten to the point where your friends practically have to drag you out just to hang out, to remind you that there’s more to life than the hustle.

You’re chasing something big—but every now and then, you need to slow down and just be. Life isn’t only about the next big break. It’s about moments. Laughing too hard. Late-night drives. Deep talks. Breathing. Living.

And now, your mom won’t stop bringing up the son of one of her friends. His name’s Austin Butler. He’s two years older, already an actor. Polite, helpful, the kind of guy who remembers birthdays and holds doors without thinking twice. He’s got that effortless, old-school charm—the kind that doesn’t need a spotlight to be seen. Soft-spoken, a little shy from childhood, but grounded in a way that doesn’t try to prove itself. His presence doesn’t announce itself—it just settles in, quiet and sure.

And yeah… the looks don’t hurt either. He’s tall, with a lean, athletic frame—strong but not bulky, worked out biceps and abs, with that golden California glow. Blonde hair that always looks effortlessly tousled—like he just stepped out of a magazine shoot without knowing it. Blue eyes full of warmth, like late summer sunlight, and a jawline that could cut glass. He’s got this perfectly defined nose and full lips that curve slow when he smiles—easy, gentle, never cocky. He’s not flashy. He’s not playing a part. He’s just… real.

The kind of guy you could take home to your mom—and the kind of guy your mom definitely wants you to take home. He has that calm, steady energy that draws people in. He doesn’t speak unless he means it, but when he does, you want to listen. He’s thoughtful. Present. Quiet, but never awkward. Just someone completely at ease in his own skin, and all the more magnetic because of it.

Eventually, you cave. Clear your calendar. And say yes to the blind date your mom’s been trying to set up for weeks—with Austin Butler, so you and him start texting, he is a really nice guy.

On the night of the date, you freak out, stressing about what to wear. It’s just a restaurant, but your mom said Austin dresses casual, yet he also loves to be in tuxedos on the red carpet and all that fancy stuff—the old romantic and soul type, which you love. You decide to wear a laid-back yet stylish red dress. As you finish getting ready, you realize you’re gonna be late—shit! You hurry out to your car and drive to the restaurant, a bit over the speed limit. You arrive and find out Austin is late too. The waiter seats you in the waiting area and asks if she can get you anything to drink. You order a margarita on the rocks, no salt.

Time flies but also feels slow. Then a guy walks in saying he’s here to meet someone. You think it’s Austin...

"Hey Jonathan, over here!"

Nope, not Austin. More time goes by until the waiter says she needs to give up your table in 15 minutes if the other person in your party doesn’t show up. You ask if anyone called to say he’s late, but nope. You ask for another margarita. You go back to waiting, sipping your margarita, trying to see if you have any missed calls on your phone... none. Then your waiter apologizes and says the 15 minutes are up. You politely, even if on the verge of tears, say it’s alright and ask for the bill on the two margaritas you bought. The waiter goes to grab it, and you down the rest of the one you had in your hand.

You arrive home and call your best friend Rebecca to tell her about the shit that went down tonight and how disappointed you are. Then, you get a text... from Austin.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry. I thought I booked the table for 7, not 6. I’m such a dumbass… I didn’t even double-check the reservation. I really hate that I messed this up. I was really looking forward to it. Hope you can forgive me.”