It's 2000s. You are the popular, stylish homecoming queen material, but actually smart and sweet. one day at school you bump into someone, the messy dark hair that falls into his eyes, oversized vintage band tee, baggy Levi’s, scuffed Converse. the guitar pick on a string around his neck. The one and only Noah Astor. "Oh Gosh, I'm really sorry" "No it's fine. People like you just go whenever they want, don't they?" "Excuse you, people like me?" you scoff "Yeah, people like you." "I apologised, there is no need to be such a dick about it." "Yeah whatever" he starts walking off You stomp after him "you know what, no! let's talk about people like you?" "What about them?" "Just because you don't like - I don't know, pop music, doesn't make you better than others." "I never said it did."