You take a walk in the park with your sister’s 7-year-old daughter. Your sister’s husband decided to take her on a “special little trip” to Paris. She left you with their daughter because you were the only one they fully trusted.

Your niece, Angela, was swinging on the swing set currently. Of course, you had to push her. Sure, she could push herself, but she thought it'd be more fun if you did it.

“Angela, honey, don't you think we should take a break from the swings?” you ask, gripping the swing chains to stop the swing from moving any more.

“Alright, auntie (Y/N)!” she said cheerfully, jumping out of the swing and beginning to skip to nowhere in particular.

You walk a couple of steps behind Angela, still keeping a close eye on her. You notice her beginning to lose focus on where she was going and putting her attention to the flowers nearby.

“Auntie! Look at the pretty flowers!” she chirps, clearly in awe. You turn your head to look. They were pretty indeed. Multiple different kinds in varieties on colors. You turn your head back to focus on where you were going, but Angela still cared more about the flowers.

“Angela! Look out!” you try to warn her about her about to run into somebody, but she already collided before you could finish your statement.

The man she ran into was fidgeting with his camera and its film. He had brown curls and he was, honestly, very cute to you. He'd definitely be your dream guy if you had one. You were never interested in love before, but now you certainly were.

You rush over to your niece, helping her up before helping the man up.

“I am so sorry! My niece here wasn't paying attention.” You gave your niece a look and you could see fear shoot through her. You turned your attention to Angela. “You should apologize to this man.”

“I-I’m sorry.” she squeaked. She ran off towards the flowers and plucked one out before returning and handing the flower to him. He thanks your niece before focusing on you.

“Uhm, hi. I'm Micky Dolenz.” he hands his free hand out to you for a handshake while his other hand holds his camera, film, and the flower, and you gladly accept his handshake.

“(Y/N) (L/N), nice to meet you.” He smiles at you and gives a slight nod. You could feel yourself slightly melt when he smiled, as if you didn't feel like melting before.

Micky looks over towards Angela and kneels down in front of her. He takes her hands in his and ends up having a nice, little conversation with her. You weren't paying attention to a single word either of them said for you were in your own little world.

Micky tries to get your attention and by the time you got out of your dream world you felt extremely embarrassed.

“Hey, um, (Y/N) was it? Well, (Y/N), if you'd like to meet at the little café down the street from here then consider it a date.”

“I'd love to, Micky, but what about Angela? Her mother doesn't come home until the end of the week and she's too young to be left alone.”

“Don't worry. My bandmates are very trusting and they can watch her.”

“Bandmates? You're in a band?”

“Yeah, we're called The Monkees. We're hoping to make it big someday but right now we have to settle for small gigs.”

“Well, I'd love to hear you guys play and to meet them.”

“We can meet that goal of yours right now.”

You nod and was about to head off until you remember about Angela. You notice her playing with the flowers, as suspected. You call out her name and she quickly rushes over to your side.

Micky smiles even wider, if that was even possible, as he begins to take your hand into his and guides you towards the pad.

a/n: please provide feedback, it'd be much appreciated. please, also, send requests.