Dallas spots a girl at the drive-in, after she sits in front of him. A smirk graces his lips, already reaching into his pocket and pulling out a pack of cigarettes. He takes one, lighting it and sticking it between his lips. It’s true what they say—Greasers truly don’t care what others think. At least, Dallas doesn’t.
He’s with his two ‘friends’, if that’s what you could call them. They’re just a part of the gang he’s in. Ponyboy—a brunette, fourteen year old boy— and Johnny, a scrawny, black haired, 16 year old.
With a smug expression on his face, he takes a drag of his cigarette, a puff of smoke blown in the Soc’s direction.
He kicks her chair lightly, attempting to gain her attention.
“Sweetheart~”
His voice is a sultry croon.
“What are you doin’ here, all alone?”