(Book 2) The Dark Side of Fame - Scarlett Johansson x Female Reader

Hiding in Plain Sight

A month later...

I sit in the hotel bar late on, totally out of it. A familiar voice speaks up behind me.

???: Y/N?

I turn around to see Florence. I roll my eyes.

Me: I'm fine.
Florence: Yeah, looks like it. We've been looking everywhere for you. What are you doing to yourself?
Me: I said I'm fine. You can leave now.
Florence: Scarlett is going crazy trying to call you. Your mailbox is full from everyone calling you constantly. Is this how you treat people?
Me: You can tell her I'm fine too, I don't want to see her, don't fucking tell her where I am. Who knows where my phone is, probably with some media outlet, seeing as I'm all they want to take photos of these days. Oh look, there's another one.

I raise my middle finger to the paparazzi.

Florence: Y/N, please.
Me: Just leave me alone Flo. Don't tell anyone where I am, please. And yes, this is how I treat people now, people who turn their back and hand out divorce papers for the fun of it.
Florence: You and I both know she didn't mean that. You don't even look like you anymore. Your face is so fucked from the amount of shit you're doing.
Me: My face is always fucked. You see these?

I point at the shrapnel marks around my jaw.

Me: See? Always fucked. I should be dead, so I am dead as far as I'm concerned. Thanks for worrying, but I really don't need you.
Florence: You really are a selfish piece of shit, you know that, don't you? Everyone who loves you is trying to help but it looks like you don't need it huh? I'm done with you, and the sooner everyone else is, the quicker you'll realise how much you need us.

She walks away, leaving the hotel. I roll my eyes again and turn back around.

Me: Another whiskey please.

The barman pours the whiskey.

Barman: You've been here a while. I see you in here every night.
Me: Yup, just drinking myself into oblivion for a while before I'm inevitably forced to go to rehab by my wife, who definitely knows where I am now, if she didn't already.
Barman: Sounds like fun. I'm finished in an hour, wanna go out?
Me: Why not?

I head back up to my room and get changed into a vintage T-shirt and pants, then make my way back down to the reception an hour later to meet the barman.

We walk into a bar down the street, and everyone's taking photos with me. We sit in the VIP area after being offered it by the bar. We're served any amount of drinks, and I'm given a bag of cocaine by a very attractive dancer.

Me: What was your name again sorry?
Barman: Diego.
Me: Do you sniff, Diego?

He nods and takes the end of my key, sniffing some of the cocaine. I pack his back and laugh.

A few hours later we're on the dance floor going crazy with people around. The same dancer comes over, grinding on me. I push her away.

Me: I have a wife, dude, back off.
Dancer: I don't see her.
Me: Just back off.

She tuts and walks away. We carry on the night. The club closes and I stumble out, the dancer from before comes over and helps me back to the hotel. She opens the door and throws me on the bed.

Me: I'm sure you're lovely, but I really do have a wife.
Dancer: I know, I know who you are. I just wanted to make sure you got back okay, the paparazzi were all over you. Enjoy the rest of your night anyway.
Me: Wait! They're gonna think we slept together if you leave out of the front door, go out of the service exit, the same way we got in.