You were a normal girl, living your normal life, on your way to the diner to have some lunch. Walking your usual route, you pass an alleyway, and come to a stop.

The sound of rhythmic snapping fingers and leather squeaking caught your attention, and you turned your head with a weirded out grimace to see four guys, all leaned against the wall in a row, snapping their fingers and keeping their heads tilted down mysteriously.

One, named Alex, had a gelled quiff and was covered head to toe in leather, a cigarette hanging out of his mouth and an ugly smirk on his face. Next to him, Matt, was bigger and less enthusiastic with his clicking. Then Jamie, who was ruining the whole thing by staring at you instead of being mysterious like the others, and then Nick, who looked utterly miserable and just as weirded out as you.

Suddenly, Alex, the little one, presented himself as the ringleader as he began scatting with a smirk, the others joining in like a greasy barbershop quartet as they attempted to woo you with their attempted greaser flair.