Cropped out - an Oscar Piastri x OC fic

Chapter 1- Clasp

⋆⁺₊⋆𖦹⋆₊⁺⋆

Eliana:

The music was travelling down the streets. I don't know how the locals can live like this, but London is a place where you either block out the noise or join in with it. Today I was the latter. I focused on placing one foot in front of the other, following the sound of Liv's giggles who, although had more pre's than I did, was walking, hand in hand, with a guy she just met as if she hadn't touched the bottle of vodka back in my flat. In retrospect, I shouldn't have guzzled 7 shots and 3 apple sours, but it's my last free weekend before I'm thrown into the big world of work and drudgery. Travel the world doing what I want, but leaving Liv behind. So I have my reasons for my antics.

Liv's dad, or her uncle, I can never remember which one it is, owns this specific club on the lively streets of Soho. It's most definitely got some illegal activities going on in it, but I usually shut my eyes and ears when quick entry and free drinks are tossed my way. An incentive not to say anything, not that I would, as I've come here since me and Liv were 18 but the freebies are a nice touch anyways.

I wait back whilst Liv talks to the security guard, Aaron i think. The last one got laid off after he got caught snorting coke before his shift. With Liv, might I add. He turns around and smiles at me, to which I return with all the falsified kindness I can muster. This man doesn't know me, and I've seen the way his eyes follow the curve of my best friend's ass when she saunters inside the club. I follow inside, but a hand curves around my elbow.

"Let her know I finish in an hour" Aaron whispers into my neck, and releases my arm.

All I do is walk away, with a slight nod. I know he'll find her. And I know she won't try to stop him, so there's no point stalling the inevitable. Anyways, she won't leave here. Any and all 'transactions of pleasure', she likes to call it, happens inside the club. You never know what psychos stalk the streets of London and would be thrilled to have her alone.

As I walk through the entrance hallway, I catch my reflection in the mirrored floor to ceiling walls. My new black dress clings to me, lands just above my knee to show my thigh tattoo and skims my chest with lace, barely covering my tits. But when in rome. Wine red prada heels match my hair, which I dyed 2 days ago in an anxiety episode but have grown to love, and a red glass heart hangs at my throat, a present Liv got me for my new job. I'll have to get a new tattoo soon, I think as I glance at my tiger prowling my thigh. I got him 6 months ago in Spain. A black tiger with red cherry blossoms. My mum nearly got a brain aneurysm when she saw it, but has grown to love it as much as I do.

I head straight to the bar, the pre's already wearing off, and order a shot and a pornstar martini. I'm grabbing for the martini before the shot has finished trickling its way down my throat, but I'm too pumped to care. My last night, probably for a while, in this place. The place I grew up in, revised for exams in whilst cleaners prepared for the night, comforted Liv in when she broke up with her boyfriend, and lost my virginity in. A place like this holds memories. Memories I don't wanna let go of. So I drink. I drink so i don't forget them, so i can remember how I got black-out drunk and had the best night of my life before my big girl job.

⋆⁺₊⋆𖦹⋆₊⁺⋆

I stagger to the bar, feet aching and body glistening from the combined sweat of many, many bodies on the dance floor. I order a water and another shot. Downing the water I reach for the shot, turning around so I can lean against the bar. As I rest my back against the bar, the shot flies out of my hand and smashes on the floor, splashing all over my new heels. I look up to the culprit and find a man with a scowl on his face already staring at me.

"What the fuck was that for!" i sneer

"I was trying to get past, and some people don't need to get pissed to enjoy themselves, sweetheart." the mystery man retorts, a foreign twang to it. Australian perhaps?

"I'm not pissed, simply accepting of the liquid courage. And who are you calling 'sweetheart', sweetheart'

He chuckles, and it shocks me to my core. No, it's the alcohol. No respectable man would waste expensive vodka like that.

Two people get out of the bar seats and so I place myself down in one, waiting to see if he will too. Reluctantly, he does. I glare at him for a while, noticing in the low light of the bar the line of his jaw and the curve of his nose. If I was more drunk and in a different bar, I may have slept with this man, but tonight I'm restraining myself.

"What do you want? You're ruining my night." he states

"I'm ruining your night? You just fucking ruined my shoes, and my vodka, which i have been looking forward to since i stepped off that dance floor."

"You talk a lot, do you know that?"

"And you talk too little for being such a dickhead"

"What does that-"

"It doesn't matter. What does matter is that you apologise."

"For what"

I shoot him daggers. I don't care how beautiful this man is, my pissed brain wont forgive him for the audacity of being so unbelievably dumb. Yes, dumb. Apparently beauty and brains don't mix, apart from me and Liv obviously. That's beside the point. So do you know what I do? I pick up the foot that got ruined, and place it on his lap. Pointing, "Look. They're ruined because you cant fucking see."

"Not my problem" he blatantly states

"Ugh fine, whatever." I babble as I start to unclasp my shoes, starting with the one on his lap.

"What are you doing?" he askes confusedly

"Taking off my shoes, clearly." I almost growl as i drop the last remaining shoe on the floor, my feet free of the wet material.

"A bloody mary, please" I call down the bar, and within a few minutes it's placed in front of me. He's staring at me, I can feel it.

"What do you actually want? A shag? Because you're not going to get it, alright pretty boy." i whisper-shout near his ear

"You wish." i hear him draw out

"You're a cunt you know that?"

"Seems we have something in common." he says smugly

I almost whirl on him right then when I feel someone tap my shoulder, and as soon as I turn around I'm dragged to the dance floor again by Liv, who shouts in my ear "Who's that?" i go to respond, but then i realise i don't actually know his name.

⋆⁺₊⋆𖦹⋆₊⁺⋆

The night blurs as I drink more and more alcohol, fueled by my interaction with the nightmare man at the bar. And before I know it, me and Liv are stumbling out of a taxi and are giggling whilst we trip up the front steps to my flat complex. We enter the lift and go up to level 12, where my apartment is, pretty much falling through the door and collapsing on my bed. It's almost like that whole thing at the bar never happened, although I know it did, since I walked up the front steps with no shoes on.

⋆⁺₊⋆𖦹⋆₊⁺⋆

—
Word count:1309

Authors note:
she's feisty!! i hope we like her, and know that she's not gonna give 2 shits about what happens in her life (or will she)

Farewell, Freya <3