A/N: 23.06.2022
New update!
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My YouTube username: letsgohomehidee
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Shit!
I quickly squeezed through the crowd, apologizing as I pushed and stepped on people's feet. I checked all the bathroom stalls but couldn't find my phone. Where had it gone? It was in my hands ten minutes ago.
My muscles tensed when I remembered bumping into someone when I left the bathroom. Had I dropped it then? Did someone pick it up already? I rushed back to the bar still drunk and clearly not thinking straight. I tried my best not to slur as I made grand gestures, explaining my situation. I asked them if they had seen my phone or if someone had returned it, but they seemed clueless. I probably looked like I was in a bad state because they offered to call an uber to drive me home, but there was no way I could leave this bar knowing that someone might find out about my relationship with Aaron.
Well, past relationship.
My heart sunk deeper into the pit of my stomach.
I looked around me. Everybody was laughing and chatting, dancing and having fun. People were drunk and partying the night away. My vision doubled and everything moved in slow motion. The loud music in the back was making my head heart. I wanted to get out of here. I knew I took one too many shots. I normally controlled myself and never overdrank, but I guess tonight was just one of those nights I needed to drink away my pain.
Jack was right. My life really was a chaotic mess.
I asked the bartender if I could borrow his phone for a sec. I was about to call Jack but realized that I didn't know his phone number. I didn't know anybody's phone number by heart except for Aaron's, and he was the last person I wanted to call. I ran a frantic hand through my hair, trying to think of someone I could call.
What if I called Oliver?
Another rule for every personal assistant was that we needed to memorize the phone number of the celebrity we worked for. Even though Oliver never gave me his phone number, it was already registered in the agency and written on his profile. I knew his birthday, where he was born, the schools he went to, and his phone number before knocking at his door.
I punched in his number, anxiously waiting for him to pick up.
"Hello?"
My heart jumped when I heard his voice.
"Oliver!" I exclaimed, unable to hide my excitement. "I'm Daniel, your personal assistant."
"Good evening, Daniel." A pause. "Are you outside?"
"I'm at a bar," I answered sheepishly. "And I'm kind of in a pickle."
"A what?"
"A pickle," I repeated.
"Okay." A pause. "Nice."
"I'm sorry for calling you at such a late hour, and I know that this isn't professional at all, but I'm really in a lot of trouble and I'm kind of drunk," I admitted in shame. "I didn't know who else to call because I lost my phone and the only person I could think of was you. I'm really, really sorry for bothering you."
"It's fine," he said calmly. His soothing voice strangely felt reassuring. "What happened?"
I took in a deep breath, trying to collect my thoughts.
"I lost my phone and I can't find my best friend."
"You really are in a pickle."
I felt a small smile pull on my lips despite my situation.
"Send me the address and I'll pick you up," he said.
I blinked in surprise. "Are you sure you can come? If you're busy-"
"I'll be there."
He sounded so certain that I didn't know what else to say.
"O... Okay. Again, I'm really sorry for the trouble," I murmured.
"You already said that, Daniel," he chuckled gently, and my chest tightened when he said my name. "Stay near the bar and don't accept drinks from strangers, alright?"
He didn't hang up until I gave him an answer.
"Okay," I said, and then added, "I promise."
"I'll see you soon. Bye."
And then he hung up.
***
I had the tendency to make the worst mistakes when I was drunk.
I realized asking Oliver to come was a mistake. What if people recognized him? What if this created a huge scandal? Rumors would spread if the paparazzi snapped pictures of him at a bar. This really wasn't professional of me at all. My job was to protect Oliver's reputation, not damage it.
But now that I thought about it, nobody knew what Oliver looked like. Unlike Aaron was constantly in the public's eyes, shooting T.V series and advertisements, Oliver never went on T.V. He was a writer, so people knew him for his writing, not for his looks.
But what if he drove here in a fancy, luxurious car? Celebrities like him usually chose the brightest, trendiest cars. Even if people didn't recognize him, his car would still attract attention. What car did he drive? A Ferrari? A Lambo?
I really didn't think this through, did I?
I anxiously waited in the bar, sipping a glass of cold water as I glanced out the window to see if there were any red sports car. My brows pulled together when a yellow Twingo drove in. It looked old and small. That couldn't be...
My lips parted when Oliver came out of the car. I was both relieved and slightly concerned that he was driving such an old car. At least he didn't have to worry about attracting unwanted attention.
Oliver walked into the bar and scanned his surroundings. He wore a brown jacket, plain jeans, and another quirky T-shirt with a cute pug on his chest. He looked like the most casual guy you'd stumble upon at a bar. No, he looked more casual than the average casual.
He searched the bar and made a face when he saw a crowd of people as if it the human species were his worst enemy. His eyes found mine and softened slightly. I gave him a shy wave.
"Hi," I smiled until I saw his shoes. "Are you wearing sandals?"
With jeans?
I felt personally attacked.
"I couldn't find my socks," he said dismissively, giving no importance to his fashion. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, the alcohol is starting to wear off."
But those sandals...
"Great, let's go home."
Oliver turned around but I quickly caught the sleeve of his jacket.
"I can't leave without my phone," I blurted. He ran a hand through his hair, looking annoyed.
"Someone probably already stole it."
My lips parted in shock. That was definitely not reassuring at all, but Oliver's serious expression remained slack. I could tell he wanted to go home. Did he not like crowded places?
"I can't leave without it. There's important stuff in there that I can't lose," I murmured.
"Important stuff like what?"
I tried to think of something. "My cat."
Before Oliver could judge me - which he probably already was - I quickly added, "It's important to me."
"Fine, I'll look for your phone," he finally said.
"Okay, I'll help."
"No, you wait in the batmobile," he said, pointing at his yellow Twingo. "You're still drunk and I don't trust you."
"Because I'm drunk?" I frowned.
"No, because I hardly know you."
I almost felt offended, but he had a point. We met yesterday, and amidst my introduction, he fell asleep on the couch, so apart from my name, he didn't know anything about me.
"You sure you don't need my help?" I asked, feeling a pang of guilt. "I'm really not that drunk."
He took a step closer, and his height cast a shadow over me. Why did he have to be so broad and tall? I flinched when he put the back of his hand against my forehead, and I felt my entire face grow warm.
"You're hot."
My entire grew red and I almost stuttered 'thank you' until I realized he was talking about my temperature.
Oliver turned his face to the side and his eyes focused on something else. I followed his vision and saw a group of guys who'd been staring at me for a while. Oliver seemed even more annoyed and grumbled something under his breath. He removed his hand from my forehead and handed me his car keys.
"Wait for me," he said. I gulped.
"In the batmobile?"
"In the batmobile," he replied with a deadpan face.
Just a few seconds ago he told me he didn't trust me, and now he was giving me his car keys? What was up with that?
He was about to leave but quickly backtracked.
"Oh, and don't steal my car."
I didn't know how to react to his deadpan humor so a noise that something in between a laugh and a cry escaped my throat. I followed his orders and waited for him in his car, worried that someone might have already gone through my phone's gallery.
I really needed to delete the pictures of me and Aaron...
The alcohol made my head hurt, so I rested my head against the window, hoping the pictures were safe.
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A/N: Okay, I may be a little biased, but I love Oliver 🤣 he's just such a chill guy and has a great sense of humor without trying.
Q/A: Who is your fictional crush? Could be from any book, anime, Manga, movie, comic...
OH AND PLEASE DONT FORGET TO LEAVE A VOTE. If we hit 350 votes, I'll post the next chapter early 🥰