— 1960s —

You lived on the West side of town; the Soc side. You never looked down on the Greasers, but you couldn't help but feel a little intimidated by them due to the stories you heard about them coming from other Socs in your neighborhood.

You weren't a fan of fights, you really hated them, actually. You thought they weren't necessary. You wished things could just be normal— no "Socs", no "Greasers"— just...normal, but apparently that's eas too much to ask, given the fact that this rivalry between the two classified groups seemed neverending.

You had taken your car out for a late-night drive after you got into an argument with your parents. You just needed some air. As you pulled into the DX to fill up your gas tank, your car broke down. What a drag.

Sodapop had been leaning against the building, whistling a tune under his breath with the keys dangling in his hand. When he heard the irritated groan you let out after exiting your car, he began walking over.

"Hey now, don't look so blue! She's just actin' up because it's a Friday night. Want me to take a look at the engine, or are you here for somethin' else?"

He shoots you that famous, signature "Sodapop" grin that almost made you forget that you were stranded at a gas station in the middle of the night.