All the couples that Alaia Repond has gotten together have stayed happily together, and at this point, she really should consider matchmaking as a profession. So when her close friend Ollie asks her to set up a friend of his, she's more than happy t...
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Franco wakes up the next morning with a glaring headache.
"Fuck," he groans. The headache is so bad he doesn't even address the unfamiliar surroundings until seconds later. He blinks, adjusting to the light as he looks around the room — but not too quickly, because he doesn't want to puke on someone else's sheets.
He then notices that there's someone sleeping next to him, and he recognises her in an instant. He's woken up next to her many times before, after all.
Alaia must've brought him back to her place last night after he got wasted. He groans, and then he looks at the bedside table with Panadol and a glass of water perched on it.
She must've put them there for me last night, Franco thinks. His heart warms at the kind gesture. He takes two of the pills, downing them with a glass of water.
The girl next to him stirs, and she turns to look at him. "Hi," she says groggily. "You're awake."
"Yeah," he mumbles. "Thanks for making sure that I was okay. I don't really remember much of last night — I drank too much."
That means he doesn't remember the conversation from last night, before the two fell asleep. Alaia expected this, but for some reason she feels slightly disappointed. Perhaps it was the fact that the conversation resembled something that would lead to... a relationship. Something that she finds herself kind of wanting now.
"No worries," she smiles. "You okay? Got a headache?"
He nods, groaning. "At least I'm not throwing up, so that's good. For both me, and for you." he chuckles.
"Yeah, it looks like you drank a shit ton last night. What happened?" she asks. She's wondering if sober Franco will give a different answer than drunk Franco.
He was jealous. That's the real answer. He hated that Lando Norris was interested in Alaia. He also hated that weird stranger at the club who was trying to chat her up at the bar — Franco doesn't remember much from last night, but he remembers walking up to the two of them and feeling anger and hatred towards the other man. But he couldn't tell Alaia that.
"I just... hadn't drank in a while." he lies, and Alaia nods.
"Oh, alright." she says. He did answer differently, and Alaia could tell that he was lying from the way his eyes scanned her bedroom to avoid eye contact with her.
"I should probably... go." he says. "I smell like vodka, and I need to brush my teeth and everything."
"You can do that here. I've got a spare toothbrush. On the counter in the bathroom." she tells him, pointing in the direction of the bathroom. Franco looks pleasantly surprised, thanking her before heading to brush his teeth.
Alaia rests her head against her pillow again, thinking about the conversation that they had last night. Franco liked her. He wanted to date her.
And she thinks she does too.
But Franco doesn't remember a single thing about their conversation, so how would she even bring it up?
Alaia hates when things are complicated, and relationship are inherently complicated. Hence, the lack of those in her life. The last thing she wants is to go through what her father had to — the fear of heartbreak is overwhelming, and detaching yourself from any possibilities of anything leading to heartbreak seems to be the solution.
But this... whatever this was with Franco, made her realise that she was actually quite lonely. It felt nice to be cared for, to actually show interest in someone else for more than one night. Because those nights with Franco did mean something to her, even if they returned to acting like just friends the next morning.
She gets out of bed, heading to the bathroom to brush her teeth and clear her thoughts. "I'm done," Franco says, placing the toothbrush on the counter. "Won't hog your bathroom anymore."
"It's fine," she says, waving it off. She squeezes a pea-sized amount of toothpaste onto her toothbrush. "I'll drive you to your hotel, if you need me to. I'm gonna be busy for the next week, because I've got a few shows to walk in... Schiaparelli, Dior... you know. So it might be a while until I can see you again."
"Trying to make every moment count, huh?" he chuckles. "But that would be lovely. Thanks, querida."
Alaia nods as she starts brushing her teeth, trying to hide the way her flustered expression from the nickname. Franco tells her that he's heading to the living room to go see Mimi, and she nods.
Mimi's curled up on the couch, and when Franco approaches, the cat looks at him. He sits down next to Mimi, and she curls up close to him. "You really do like me." he says, and it's as if the cat can understand him, because she purrs.
Franco's eyes suddenly catch a new addition on Alaia's living room shelf. It's the champagne bottle that he'd gifted to her after his podium in Barcelona, and Franco can't help but smile.
He's always been wondering if this predicament that they were in meant something more to her, and for some reason that small gesture makes him feel as if she really does like him.
Franco knows that he likes her, now. And he wants things to go further, but he knows that Alaia doesn't do relationships — so he guesses he'll just have to let these feelings sit there.
He sighs, petting Mimi's fur. "What do I do?" he mumbles.
He looks at the cat. "Do you think you could tell me?" Mimi looks at him curiously, and Alaia's voice grabs his attention away from Mimi.
"Hey, ready to go?" she asks.
Alaia smiles at the sight — it was clear to her that Franco was Mimi's favourite, out of all of the people that she's met.
Franco nods, getting up from his spot on the couch. "Bye, Mimi."
"She likes you the most, definitely." Alaia says, and Franco grins. "What can I say? I'm a very popular guy." he quips, and Alaia laughs, shaking her head.
"Also, sorry — I did want to ask you something." Franco says, just before Alaia slips her sneakers on.
"Shoot." she tells him.
"Did I say anything important last night? Or weird? Because I was so wasted."
Alaia ponders the idea of telling him about the conversation. But then that overwhelming fear gets a little too real, and she makes that split-second decision.
"No," she says, giving him a tight-lipped smile. "You didn't."
