THE END | Oscar Piastri

54. wild flowers

Sav's pov

I can't stop writing. Every few days there's another song fully penciled in on another page in my journal.

And it's not difficult either. The words easily flow out of me like someone's put a huge gash into my arm and I'm bleeding all over the pages, but the blood is just words.

It's all his fault. I know it is. Every message he sends or any time I even think about him seems to unlock a part of my brain that I couldn't access before.

It's only been two weeks since I last saw him, but it feels so much longer.

There's a loud knock on the door while I'm getting ready to go to the studio. I rake through my memory, trying to remember if I have someone coming over, or if Id ordered anything. Nothing comes to mind.

When I open the door, the delivery man stands there with a giant bouquet of assorted flowers, already sitting in a fancy glass vase. They're gorgeous. The bright colors of flowers that can only be found in spring are delicately arranged to make the perfect looking bouquet. It's the work of someone who was not only paid well but knows what they're doing.

His head peaks over the top of them. "Savannah Scott?" He asks. I answer hesitantly, confused. "Yeah..." I'm certain I haven't forgotten any special date, or anything like that.

"Great, these are for you." He rushes to place the flowers in my hand. The bunch of them are heavier than I anticipated, and I almost drop them. "Have a great day!" He yells, running down my driveway. I don't even get to reply, he's already in his truck and down the street.

I kick the door closed with my heel, and blindly find the dining room table. I can't see over the top of it.

I search for a full five minutes for a note, only to not find one. I throw myself down in the chair. It takes less than a full ring for Oscar to answer my FaceTime call.

"You have great timing cause I just got back to my room." He laughs. His sweaty hair and the race suit confirms his words. "Yeah... uh, what're these?" I ask him. The flowers don't even fit in the full shot of the camera.

He shrugs. "They look like flowers to me."
I smile at his sarcasm. "I meant, why did you get them?"

"Cause I've been gone..." he trails off, though I know there's more to his explanation, so I stay silent. "And you said I remind you of wild flowers." The corner of his mouth tweaks up into a small smirk.

Of course, he's referring to the time I went out with Logan after a race, and got so drunk I became terribly tired. I left with Oscar because he offered, and also wanted to leave.

While I don't remember the actual memory, I do remember his retelling. It's just as embarrassing. "I was drunk!" I defend loudly. "Likely excuse!" He mimics my tone.

My head falls to the table, a light thump echoing from it. "It's not an excuse! I was so drunk I don't even remember the night." I continue, wanting to bang my head repeatedly against the table out of embarrassment.

Oscar's very amused. "You still don't remember?" Its clear he's holding back a laugh. "No, I don't." He lets out a small laugh.

"It's still not an excuse." He says, the smile on his face becoming larger as he continues to make fun of me.

I shake my head, removing myself from the dining room and grab my keys from the kitchen counter. "I'm going. Talk to you later?"

His face drops. "Where are you going?" His question is rushed. "Oh, sorry mom. I thought I was talking to my boyfriend." The boyfriend in question gives me a blank stare. "I'm going to the studio. We still have some stuff to work out. And I need to go like now or I'm going to be late" I explain.

"How can you be late? Doesn't he work for you?" He asks as I'm walking out of the house. "I guess. But it's still rude to be late. You wouldn't want Stella to be late to a meeting, would you?"

He's silent for a moment before answering. "No." He shakes his head.

"Okay. I don't know how long it'll be, so don't stay up." I point an accusing finger at him, knowing full well he won't listen. "Oh, sorry mom. I thought I was talking to my girlfriend." He says, a direct copy of my own words.

"Goodbye!"

-★-

Pato asked me to tell
you to stop talking about me

Oh what a snitch

AHAHAHA
PATO DIDN'T SAY SHIT TO ME
YOU JUST RATTED YOURSELF OUT

Well
Can you blame me?

No
You're in all of my conversations too
I think Steven is getting tired of it

I think you need to find a new producer.
Anyone in their right mind would never get tired of you.

Alright no need to sweeten me up
I'm already your girlfriend

"Savannah." Steven says impatiently, turned around in his chair, leaning back with his arms crossed over his chest. "Yeah?"

"Are you done giggling like a little girl?" He turns his head curiously.

"I wasn't-" I go to defend myself, then realize I probably was giggling like a little girl. "Yeah." I answer.

"I need you to listen to this." I hop up from my own chair as he swivels around in his. Leaning over his shoulder, he plays the segment.

The beat he's created for the song fits so perfectly, a fast paced instrumental for a song all about a fast paced relationship.

"I love it. You're like a wizard with this thing."

"Perfect. Cause that's the last one." I gasp at his words. "You're kidding." He shakes his head.

A high pitched squeal emits from somewhere inside me, and I throw my arms around Steven. "We did it!" I cheer. He laughs. "Yeah, and it only took 9 hours." He jokes.

The clock confirms his timing is correct. '9 pm' it reads. It's two in the morning for Oscar. And he was just texting me back.

Jumping back to my phone, I go to get on his case about it, but his message stops me in my tracks.

Yes and I'm the luckiest guy on earth

Okay well I was going to yell at you for being up so late but that's cute so now I can't😕
But still, go to sleep.

Goodnight to you too❤️

I grab my laptop from my bag, nearly fumbling it due to how fast I tried to rip it out of the bag. "What are you doing?" Steven questions, curious.

"Getting a plane ticket."

★—————————————————★
A/N - okay I don't rlly like this chapter actually but I haven't updated in ages