Vague | MV1 x (fem)OC

Chapter 4: Why Can't We Be Friends?

'I say don't let me go, you say why can't we be friends? All night I watch it burn and you say why can't we be friends? Talk to me and tell me how this ones goes, I need a taxi.'

- The Academic

The sudden power surge that the girl experienced after pushing her depressive thoughts aside was indescribable. (It was the red bull she had been drinking, but she chose to ignore it and just feel the joy, or whatever that meant in her words.) As a result, however, she had jolted up from the bedroom floor and put on the highest pairs of heels she could find (She had only packed sport shoes) before sprinting to the open restaurant on the seventeenth floor. The place was reserved for the night after all for the drivers (& bikers, she liked to differentiate between the two), the plus ones and the staff. The least she could do was make an appearance, no matter how late it had been. 

As she stood on the other side of the polished glass her eyes fell over Miguel who was caught up in a (rather unwanted) conversation with Marcus, who was presumably ranting about Irish and her never ending, 'problem causing' antics; and boy did he look angry. 

The lady at the desk gave her a polite smile as she walked closer. 

"Good evening ma'am, I hope you're doing well." 

"I'm holding up, or trying to..." she replied politely, the hotel employees looked like they had been walking on egg shells for a while. She tried to be kind and make it a bit easier for them. The lady gave her a slight chuckle and asked, "May I have a name, ma'am?" 

"Of course, It's Irish Parker." 

Irish watched as the woman went through three different pages, eyes skipping over every name, for a solid minute, all while she waited in patience. "Is there an issue?" She asked in a confused tone as the woman's expression become more and more complex with every second that passed. "Actually your name isn't on the list..." 

The universe was too late to give Irish a sign to not attend the event, or maybe there had been plenty and she had been ignoring them. She was here now though. 

"I'm sure you're mistaken, check again." She tried to reason, but the woman was hesitant to follow her command. 

"Actually, are you sure you're at the right event, ma'am?" she said in a skeptical tone whilst looking her up and down. 

Judge-y much?

"I am exactly where I need to be. Now pick up the damned list and check again before your incompetence gets too much for me to deal with." The woman was taken aback by the sudden change in her demeanor. Irish was too, but oh well, can't take back the words she never said. However, after sparing another thorough look, the woman beared the same expression. "I apologize, you're name isn't here," she seemed hesitant to continue but did anyway, "perhaps you can give me your date's name and I can check with them to see if you're permitted or not?" 

Now she was really lost. 

Irish Parker

Date? Tonight? Me? I had no clue what this woman was on about. A guilty feeling spread over me for my rude tone was unnecessary in this situation. "I'm so sorry, maybe I do have the wrong venue..." I began explaining, but my confusion only grew as I saw Alex And Marc talking inside along with Sergio. I was certain this was the right place. "I'm not here for a date, I'm alone you see." I said and her expression took a turn. "I'm sorry but I'll have to ask you to leave. This is a private event." she said, signalling security to escort me.