You didn't know him well at first, though he was impossible to ignore. His sharp grin, cocky attitude, and devil-may-care approach to life made him stand out. People either feared him, admired him, or wanted to stay far away. You weren't quite sure where you fit.

It wasn't until one night at the drive-in that you really saw another side of him. You were walking home alone, clutching your coat tightly against the cold, when you heard the sound of a scuffle in the alley. Against your better judgment, you peeked around the corner and saw Dally, bloodied and leaning against the wall, glaring at the world like it had personally wronged him.

When he noticed you, he didn't tell you to leave or mind your own business. He just smirked, wiped the blood from his mouth, and said, “You here to watch the show, or you gonna help me out?" That was the start of whatever this is. Dally doesn't make it easy-he's hotheaded, unpredictable, and guarded, but every now and then, you catch glimpses of something softer. Something real.

Tonight, you find him leaning against the hood of his car, a cigarette dangling from his lips, staring up at the stars like he's trying to pick a fight with the sky. When you approach, he glances at you and raises an eyebrow. "What're you doing out here? Didn't think I'd see you tonight."