31/07/2015.

Ohhhhhh here it is you guyssss... My interpretation of Owen's first date with Claire. YIKES! Let's see how this goes, eh? It's probably completely wrong and btw I am NOT showing Claire as a rude or ignorant person here, but rather she has commitments and is busy like heck so this is why things like this happen. Also I cannot remember for the love of god what exactly happened on their first date so I just made some stuff up.

PS if there are mistakes so sorry i typed this up really quickly and was sooo excited to post it up!

Just to let you know I've been on a first date with a guy who wore jogging pants, a sweatstained hoodie and took me to McDonalds.

THE BAD DATE

It was the night of the highly anticipated date with Claire.

The day seemed to fly past; he did his training with the raptors, working on them on a one to one basis whilst Lindy could be seen tottering around after Barry, Owen switched on his music player and tunes hailing from the 70's began blaring within his bungalow. He was in such a good mood he kept his front door open as he leapt into the shower, lip syncing whilst holding the shower head, staring at his reflection in the foggy mirror. He washed his hair, trimmed some hairs from his chin, slapped some aftershave and then flossed his teeth. Now this would be his usual routine in terms of getting up in the morning; he didn't really see a difference to his usual regime. Claire would have to make do with it; it wasn't all about the looks, right?

He got dressed in a clean shirt and boardshorts. The place he had in mind was casual so no need to overdo the attire. plus on Fridays they did the Hawaiian night so he would totally blend in with the rest of the customers who would be dining there. He checked his wallet to see he had enough to cover a meal for two and some drinks and when satisfied, left the sanctity of his home and climbed onto his motorbike.

Claire said she would meet him at the restaurant; he didn't mind, he guessed, although he always thought it was more polite for the guy to pick up the chick. Oh well. He drove the bike all the way to Main Street where it was filled to the brim with tourists and other employees alike all dressed down and enjoying the Friday evening. The weather was simply fantastic – the sky was a spray of orange and red and the sun could be seen setting over the horizon and casting a glittering glow on the lagoon of the Mosasaurus.

He spotted Claire at the sidewalk where they agreed to meet and once he parked the bike and strode up to her, she looked at him from head toe. She was wearing a beautiful black cocktail dress and was clutching a matching small black purse.

"Boardshorts?!" She exclaimed.

"What?" He said, holding his arms out.

Claire put a hand to her face, glancing to the side. "...This is a date, Mr Grady."

"Yeah, so?" He added.

She bit her lip, now throwing her gaze to her patent heels. Claire had indeed dressed up for him. He stood in his shirt and boardshorts, not really understanding what the problem was.

"We're going for burgers. It's bound to get messy - "

"Burgers?"

"Yeah."

Her eyes seemed to have bulged in her sockets. "I thought we were..." Her eyes then strayed to the opposite end of the sidewalk, where the most prestigious restaurants of Jurassic World stood in their glory, with dozens of well-dressed patrons chatting amiably with one another whilst waiting on a red carpet to be welcomed in by the equally well-dressed VIP bouncer.

Owen followed her gaze. "You thought we were going to Le Meurice? It costs $300 to eat there." He pointed out before he began marching towards the burger joint, "By the way, you should be careful when we eat; you might ruin your dress."

Her eyebrow rose in astonishment, but then her brow creased and Claire held both arms up in defeat. "...Fine, whatever, we're here anyway. Let's go."

"Alright."

He led her into the establishment. It was already off to a rocky start.

The queue was long and their wait for the table for two would've taken ninety minutes if Claire wasn't the Park's Operations Manager. Despite her status, Claire said they would still pay for the bill. They found themselves seated within ten minutes and menus were presented to them. Claire glanced around; she was too overdressed for the occasion and she was worried about her clutch. She didn't want to put it on the floor so kept it on her lap, balancing it on her knees although it would keep slipping off due to the slippery material of her dress and bag alike.

Owen ordered the restaurant's special burger, a beer and an extra helping of cheesy fries. Claire ordered something that would be non-messy and would need a fork. She ended up choosing a salad.

"Salad?" He questioned.

"Yes, I'm on a diet." She replied.

"You? On a diet?"

"Yes, is that so hard to believe?"

"You don't need to go on one." He retorted.

"Well, I still want to eat a little healthier." was her response.

"Okay, so what drink are you having? Heard you like your tequila."

"No, my diet doesn't allow tequila."

"What? What kind of diet doesn't allow tequila?"

"The purpose of a diet, Mr Grady, is to cut out certain beverages and foods. Tequila is one of them."

"That's terrible." He said, chuckling.

Turning to the waiter, she said, "I'll have water, thanks." Closing the menu, she gave him a smile and handed it to him.

Now it was the time to wait for the food. It was filled with silence even though several attempts to strike up conversation were made. He kept thinking about his girls, Blue, Charlie, Echo and Delta and sometimes Lindy and Barry would pop up in conversation too. Claire would mention Zara and Simon Masrani. They could occasionally relate to the pressures of work and they would talk about the raptors. Claire asked how Lindy was getting on and he mentioned 'good'. She was progressing very quickly and the raptors were warming up to her little by little. There was no mention of the thieves or the strange people who came to the park. Claire also kept looking at her phone as it rang constantly, flashing or vibrating as she received phonecalls, text messages alike.

"So as I was saying..." Owen started, having been interrupted for the fifth time, and then –

RING RING RING.

"...Is that your phone again?"

"Yes, unfortunately."

The phone blared angrily. RING RING RING.

She emitted a gentle sigh. "Excuse me, Mr Grady. I need to take this call." Returning to her phone, she swiped the screen, placing it against her ear. "Hello, you've reached Claire Dearing. How can I help? Ah, yes, Mr Campbell, was it?"

Owen took a sip from his beer, twiddling with his fork in hand, glancing around the rest of the restaurant. Outside the window, he saw Bates limping along the sidewalk with...Lindy? He sat up slightly in his seat in disbelief.

What the hell?!

Indeed, there was his intern with Mr Bates; she was holding a brown grocery bag in arms whilst Bates carried two bulging bags in each hand. They appeared to be in conversation, grinning and smiling at each other. He watched the pair pass the restaurant window with a strange feeling settling within the pit of his stomach. He remembered the last time something like this had happened – Lindy was getting the ingredients for pie and he went with her to the shops. They then went back to the bungalow where he would watch her make the pie; a fun and intriguing process since he'd never had homemade pie before, just stuff from the supermarkets.

The fact that Bates had probably taken his place at this point made him uneasy. Both were dressed in casual wear – Bates was in a t-shirt and boardshorts – just like how he looked this evening. And Lindy...well, Owen had never seen her wearing a dress before. She was donned in a sundress with thin straps. His eyebrow quirked up as they walked past – he didn't think they'd seen him since they weren't at a window seat. For some reason, he felt glad.

"Mr Grady?"

He glanced away, to Claire. "Huh?"

"The food." Claire said, and he saw his plate being settled in front of him.

"Oh right." He grunted; somehow his appetite seemed to have vanished.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, let's uh...let's eat." Grabbing his burger with his hands, Owen bit into it with little care whilst Claire picked and prodded at her salad carefully with the fork provided, having finally put away her phone.

Once they'd finished their meal, he was less than full. In fact, it didn't appear as though he had a whole burger, fries and beer. He was still hungry for some reason. "Want any dessert?" He asked.

"No thanks." She replied, not that he was surprised by her response.

He sat backwards in his seat, stretching somewhat. His mind was preoccupied with what he'd seen a while ago. What was Bates and Lindy doing? He just had to know! He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He was on a date with Claire! His attention should be purely focused on her, right? "Yeah, so just the other day I was – "

RING RING RING.

Claire glanced at her phone once more where the screen was flashing brightly. Simon Masrani was calling. This time, she appeared apologetic. "...Sorry, Mr Grady, but I really need to take this phonecall."

"Seriously? He couldn't even leave you alone, for one night?" He moaned.

"My working hours aren't restricted to nine to five." She quipped, lifting her phone and placing it to her ear. She rose from her seat, having to escape from the noisy atmosphere of the restaurant. He watched her wander to a quiet corner and lifted his fourth or fifth beer (he couldn't really remember), drinking another sip. He admitted he'd had quite a lot to drink tonight so was feeling a little more different than usual.

Once Claire returned, she said, "Where were we?"

He shrugged, drinking his sixth beer, "...Gettin' the bill I suppose."

She seemed surprised. "Oh, right. The night's flown past, hasn't it?"

He nodded in response. Yeah...flown by with you looking at text messages and phonecalls... "Wanna go for a drink?"

"I told you, Mr Grady, I'm off the tequila."

"Then have somethin' else."

"How many beers have you had?"

"I dunno, lost count..."

"I think you're drunk, Mr Grady."

"Am not, I can hold my drink."

"Really?" She crossed her arms, frowning.

"Yeah. And I can have tequila, unlike you. I can have as much as I want."

Unimpressed, she checked the time on her phone. "It's getting late. I should head back."

Had time really flown by that much? It hardly felt that way. He sat up in his seat, feeling rather tipsy. "Alright, fine with me..." He paid the bill, slamming down dollars into the waiter's hand and they left the vicinity.

"Well, Mr Grady. I...had a nice time. Thank you for the nice evening."

"Didn't feel like we did much. We hardly spoke to each other."

"I can't help it, Mr Grady. I'm a busy woman."

"I get it. You're just too...busy, and I get it. It's fine."

"Mr Grady, I – "

"It's okay, Claire, just go back to being the Park's Operation Manager. You're doing a really good job."

Again, Claire's eyebrow rose. "...Go and have some rest, Mr Grady. I'll see you on Monday."

She would disappear somewhere and Owen had no idea when she left or how. His mind was in shambles. Instead, he found himself hogging one entire bench to himself near the lagoon drinking two more beers. It was dark; the sun had gone and the moon was high with twinkling stars in the night sky. The Jurassic World flame torches lit up, along with some lampposts lining the sidewalk. It was quiet although he could hear the distant chatter and lively music from the bars and clubs nearby.

He was tempted to go there and sit at the counter but he didn't feel like it. He certainly didn't feel like going home. It was not even midnight yet.

"Owen?"

He looked up at the sound of the voice, only to see Lindy standing to his left a distance away with a bag in hand; he could see a bottle of sparkling water and a cup noodle sticking out. Late night shopping, perhaps.

"...Lindy?" He grunted out in exasperation, "What're you...doin' here? Where's Bates?"

She rose an eyebrow. "Huh? Kyle?"

He growled. "Now you're callin' him by his first name too."

"...What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

"You don't look so good." She muttered. He heard her approach, her feet hitting the numerous empty bottles littering the ground surrounding him. "Owen, you've drank quite a lot." She added, as he glanced away from her.

"Yeah."

When it went silent, he turned to see that she was kneeling down beside him. "...How was your date with Ms Dearing?"

Owen groaned loudly. "Urghhh...what? How could you know about that?"

"Barry told me."

He let out another long groan in response.

"Are you here by yourself?" Lindy asked, "Are you alright? How are you feeling?"

"...How I'm...feeling?" He began tiredly as he rethought about the date, staring at the dark sea before them, "...You know how...when you really want something badly, when you've been admiring something for a long time...or when you really look forward to something only to be disappointed...or for everything to blow up in your face..."

She nodded briefly.

"That's how I feel right now."

Lindy nodded again, glancing away to the side awkwardly. She wasn't sure what to say to that. Had the date gone so terribly?

"I want to be alone." He suddenly mumbled.

"I understand." She made a move to leave and rose, turning away from him.

"I said I want to be alone." He said, a little louder, and Lindy stopped in her tracks, glancing at him in confusion. Owen looked at her; when their eyes met he then hurriedly broke eye contact, swallowing down somewhat. He seemed to have sobered up slightly. "You're...wearing a dress." He croaked out.

"Huh?" Now she really was puzzled by his words. Seeing her boss drunk was a bizarre sight to behold.

"Never mind." He croaked out, and then -

RING RING RING.

Lindy glanced at her pocket where her phone could be seen flashing, indicating a call.

"...Aren't you gonna get that?" He asked, gesturing drunkenly to her phone as she checked the screen.

She shook her head as she returned the phone to her pocket. "It can wait."

"Might be important."

And she shrugged. "Not really." With that, she watched as he emitted a choked noise from the back of his throat as she returned to his side, kneeling beside him again, the phone forgotten. His mouth was dry; the beer did nothing but make him hungry and dizzy and when his stomach gurgled, Lindy blinked twice, wide eyed before she proceeded let out a helpless chuckle. "...Are you hungry?"

"Yeah. That burger didn't do anything. Didn't feel right. Don't know what. I actually really want some pie." He admitted.

She chuckled again. "Really?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, so...do you want to head back? Or are you going to sit here a bit longer?"

"Nah, I'm beat. Let's go. My bike's parked over there."

"You can't drive, you're drunk."

"Then you drive. You can drive, right?"

"Yes, I can drive."

"Damn, you shoulda told me earlier. And I've been drivin' you around all this time."

"You never asked." Lindy replied with a smile; reaching for him, she hauled him off the bench and looped his arm around her shoulder. "Come on, up you go. You need some rest."

"That's what she said too." He muttered, narrowing his eyes at her.

She couldn't believe the highlight of this conversation was pie. "I'll make you some pie, but you need rest." Lindy said, helping off the bench. His legs were weak and his weight was rather overbearing for her, but she managed to get him off the bench and they wobbled on the sidewalk. She could smell the intense amount of beer off him and as she adjusted her hold on his arm, he buried his face into her nape, closing his eyes.

Lindy stiffened at once. "...Owen?" She squeaked out.

"Lindy. You'll never be too busy, right?"

"Uh...well, no, I guess not." She replied, and he simmered into a silence and she thought he was asleep but then...

"She wasn't you," He mumbled under his breath, "She wasn't you."