the one that got away, zayn malik

chapter twenty five

THE ONE THAT GOT AWAY
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
10th of august 2016

OLIVE walked into the dimly lit, exclusive club, a soft hum of music rising to meet her. she wasn't sure what she was expecting, but the thumping bass, flashing lights, and murmurs of people who had clearly been here longer than she had made her feel like an outsider. but that was the point—get out, forget the noise of her life for a little while, and lose herself in a night she didn't have to think about. the club was packed, but the air felt cool, a little too tight, like the kind of place that was designed for people who wanted to see and be seen.

she made her way to the bar, eyes scanning the crowd, and then she saw him. dylan o'brien was leaning casually against the counter, one elbow propped on the polished surface, a drink in hand. his hair was messy in that effortlessly cool way, and he was talking to the bartender, laughing at something that wasn't all that funny, but it was still charming. olive didn't need to think twice—she could already tell this was the kind of person she could have a conversation with, the kind of person who didn't mind getting lost in the mess of it all.

she slid onto the stool beside him, the low hum of the crowd still buzzing in her ears. she caught his attention, and for a moment, his eyes locked on her with recognition.

"well, this is a surprise," dylan said, his grin widening as he took her in. "didn't expect to see you here."

olive couldn't help but smile back. "not really my scene either," she said, her accent clear but calm in the sea of american(ness), not trying to stand out. "but here i am. and you?"

dylan shrugged, clearly unbothered. "the night's young. why not?"

the bartender handed him a drink, and he raised his glass slightly. "i've heard about you," he added, his voice playful but not teasing.

"good things, i hope," olive replied, raising an eyebrow as she ordered her own drink.

"they mostly just said you were hard to get a hold of." his eyes twinkled as he leaned a little closer. "is that true?"

"selective with my time," olive said with a shrug, a smile tugging at her lips.

dylan grinned back, clearly intrigued. "i get that. i mean, new york's big, right? and we're just... two people in the same place at the same time." he glanced at her, eyes narrowing slightly. "guess i'm lucky tonight."

"guess so," olive said, a touch of playfulness creeping into her voice.

the conversation flowed easily after that. they traded stories about new york, poked fun at the nightlife scene, and talked about their jobs—though neither of them seemed too invested in discussing work for long. dylan mentioned a project he'd been working on, and olive responded by telling him about a new song she was recording, ones she hadn't released yet. they both laughed when dylan pretended to be interested in learning more about music production.

"maybe i'll be a part of your next album," dylan joked, leaning in, his voice quiet. "i'll have like... a mysterious guest feature- or, i don't know, maybe you could write a song about me."

olive tilted her head, intrigued. "i'll keep that in mind."

they laughed, and just for a second, olive felt like she could relax, really let go, without worrying about anyone else around them. the night, despite the loud noise and flashing lights, felt quieter in this corner of the bar.

dylan continued, "it's not often i meet someone who doesn't immediately tell me their life story. i think that's rare. you british types, huh?"

"not everyone's like that," olive said, raising her glass and looking at him over the rim. "some of us just like to observe. you know, take it all in."