Vague | MV1 x (fem)OC

Chapter 5: Good Looking

'The skyline falls as I try to make sense of it all, I thought I'd uncovered your secrets, but turns out there's more; you adored me before; oh, my good looking boy'

- Suki Waterhouse 

Irish was half down a bottle of  rosé. To her dismay (and her manager's delight) the place was seemingly too classy to serve tequila and/or vodka shots. Wine just could not get her, or anyone else for that matter, hammered. And that lead to the build up of some hope within Irish's mind that a somewhat sober night of sober interactions with sober people would be exactly what her sober self was in need of. 

"You're not here to get drunk Irish, you're here to mingle." Marcus said, popping out of nowhere. He had located her precisely three seconds ago and was ready to get on her nerves again, swearing to not get her out of his sight from that moment forth. "Wasn't my intention to, just piss off and leave me alone." she said bluntly, going back to taking a sip out of her glass. The younger man eyed her, "I swear! For the love of God, leave me alone." She exclaimed. Then, "I'm not getting drunk. I'm just..." she couldn't come up with a reasonable explanation to make him understand why she was drinking alone. There was something bothering her and everyone who had a pair of working eyes could make it out. She was oblivious to the fact that her actions, at the moment, were rather obvious - which was very unlike her usual self. 

"I won't get drunk Farah." The man stayed still. Marcus was a young fellow. Younger than her for all she knew. The subtle hint of far and intimidation behind his eyes was enough of a proof that he knew he did not have complete authority over the girl. Marcus did, however, happen to be the best at the job and hence, she couldn't get him fired. She couldn't get rid of the man.

"Irish, please..." his plea was desperate. After all, she did in fact get too much to manage at times. "Just a couple photos, for the press of course." and the social media, but that was understood. The only thought in Irish's mind at the time was to get done with it as soon as possible and hence, she complied. The woman stood up, but only after gulping down the remnants of her wine, and with a slight stumble in her initial steps, she walked towards Miguel who was standing alone by the window, looking at the city lights. 

As the man's eyes fell over his teammate, he did a weird gesture which Irish could not perceive. With widened eyes, the man ran his hands across his neck. Confused, she mouthed the words 'what?' while increasing her pace to make sure he was not seizing. He kept saying, "Walk away. No. Stop. Stop. BRAKE. STOP. $$#$#!$" and then randomly jerked away and calmly took a sip from his drink. Irish was perplexed. Calm at the fact that he was not, in fact, seizing. Maybe he was high, she thought. Until, she heard a voice which justified Miguel's monkey stance dance. 

"Irish! How nice of you to join us, we knew you wouldn't leave Miguel alone." she turned around to see Maya, Horner's assistant, with a pleasant smile on her face. Naturally she responded with a smile. Behind her stood Checo and, well, Max. 

Max Verstappen 

"You're staring." 

I flinched at the sudden comment. I looked over my shoulder to see Daniel standing behind me with a glass of whiskey in his hand, eyes wandering over me and her. I turned to face him. 

"Liefje..." 

My own voice rang inside my head as I recalled our previous run in, heat rising to my face, I brushed her thoughts away, as if it really was that easy. If only it was that easy.