VIPER || Oscar Piastri

Chapter 36

{NOTE : Changing my update days to Mondays 🤭🙈 Apologies}

[POV: Andreanna Saunterre]

Straining out an ugly "Urrrrggghhh" was the first thing I did when I woke up.

Everything ached. Or, at least it felt like it did. Really, it was just my head that killed - but it killed enough to make me feel like I couldn't move. Through instinct, once I felt the pain, my hand rushed to clutch my forehead but that only made things worse. I winced and immediately went limp, not wanting to use any more energy. I couldn't even bare to open my eyes.

This is why I don't enjoy pub crawls, I said mentally - even the voice in my head was croaky.

After I'd thought about it, and deduced that I should probably check the time, I knew I had to open my eyes.

Slowly, and painfully, my eyes slowly crept open as I spotted my usual—

Blue bedsheets?
These aren't my...

I tilted my head upwards.

Grey curtains?
But mine are...

My body suddenly worked quicker than my brain did; I jolted upwards, a gasp escaping me as my eyes widened.

These aren't my bedsheets.
Those aren't my curtains.
This isn't my room.

An ache shot across my forehead from the sudden movement but I ignored it; Where the hell am I? How did I get here?

I tried desperately to think back to the events of last night, at the same time removing myself from the bed that wasn't mine.

Who's room is this? Shit, what if they're—

A wave of fright consumed me suddenly, when before it had just been overwhelming shock. They're not still here, are they? I scanned the room I was in. It looked like any other hotel room, meaning that the front door was around the corner and out of sight. I didn't want to move in fear of making any more noise than I already had. It doesn't seem like anyone's here.

I looked down at myself; I had the same clothes on as last night. Same shirt, jeans, socks, and— I snapped my head upwards, looking around for my shoes that were no longer on my feet.

I braced myself. I began to make my way over to where I assumed an exit would be. Once I got to it, I poked my head around the corner and confirmed my suspicions. I found my shoes, too; they were placed neatly beside the the front door with their tips facing the wall — ready for me to slip them on.

Having not heard anyone or anything other than myself the entire time, I deduced that I was alone. My shoulders relaxed, as did I...

...for a grand total of ten seconds.

Keys gangled to reach the lock from the other side of the door. I practically flew towards my shoes; grabbing one in each hand and standing in the centre of the hallway.

Not a very effective weapon, I'm aware. But defence is defence.

[POV: Narrator]

Normally, if you're to be attacked, it happens in a dark alley or some isolated, in-the-middle-of-nowhere street. Rarely is the attacker waiting for you inside your own hotel room.

Yet, as Oscar Piastri twisted the key into the lock and pushed open the door, he was met not by the expected silence, but by the furious scream of a woman wielding nothing more fearsome—or bizarre—than her shoes.

In a panic, his immediate reaction was to dodge the shoe that was being propelled towards him. Anything that he had in his hands were thereafter on the floor as he felt his heart momentarily stop dead. But, just before it hit him square in the face, it stopped mid-air.