your mom had dragged you to some party that her upper class friends invited her to. you stand their in your nicest white silk dress observing people from behind your drink. your mom whispers to you about eligible bachelo’s (most of which were double your age) and tried to play matchmaker. she didn’t know about your boyfriend, louis, because you didn’t want to tell her. she never liked the rockstar type and he had a couple years on you, so you didn’t want her to assume anything that wasn’t true. as you’re gazing around the party, ignoring your mother, you catch sight of familiar blue eyes talking to a women in a revealing dress your mother would kill you for wearing.