Oh damn! An actual update!
For those of you following along with my Tumblr, you probably read that I hadn't actually planned on continuing along with this fic. I've had some issues with it, plot and character wise. But I sort of felt the encouragement from people who are enjoying the story to continue. I think the fact that I want to break away from writing straight up rom-com sort of stories is what has me a little unmotivated for this fic. Nothing against the rom-com fics! They are so fun to read :)
ANYWAYS, I could go on, but I'll let you guys read. Hope you enjoy! Apologies for the numerous mistakes I'm sure are included throughout this chapter. I wrote it very quickly and gave it a very sparse read through before posting.
Ridiculous.
That was the best way to describe what she saw as she turned the corner and rounded toward Verdant. There were so many people on the street that it was impossible to maneuver her little coup anywhere close to the club. She abandoned it next to a meter the first chance she got and ended up hiking three blocks to the main entrance.
It was like Vegas and Mardi Gras had a baby right there outside the street. News vans and partiers were mixed all around. It was amazing that there wasn't a single cop in sight.
The worried look on Diggle's face didn't do much to ease her trepidation. He seemed to be manning the door as best he could.
"What's going on?" Felicity asked.
A drunk girl barreled into her, splashing her blouse with some sort of red drink. The glass dropped from her hand and shattered on the side walk and she laughed and screamed as some equally as inebriated guy chased her into the street.
"Oliver," Diggle said. "He put the word out for the city's biggest rager. He's giving everything away for free. No rules, nothing held back. They're tearing the place a part and he doesn't give a damn."
"Why hasn't anyone called the cops?"
"In this city?" he scoffed. "Half of the ones who have shown up have joined in, the others only needed to see a little green before they backed off."
The knot in Felicity's stomach tightened, but she threw her shoulders back. "I need to find him."
She stepped gingerly around the broken glass. Diggle reached out and took her arm, helping her. He gave it a little squeeze. "If you're not back in ten minutes, I'm coming after you. It's a jungle in there."
Felicity half smiled. "I'll be fine."
Jungle had been an understatement.
Chaos seemed to be the theme of the night. Trashy trance music played as drunk people danced and writhed in various states of undress. The air was putrid with alcohol and sweet liqueur smells that turned her stomach. It was damn near impossible to squeeze through the voracious crowd, slicked in sweat and debauchery.
She scanned the bars and spotted Sara, trying her best to maintain a weak grip on control. Her blonde waves whirled as she ran back and forth, filling drinks and trying to keep grabby hands away from her bar and her ass.
Felicity almost called out to her, but it would have been impossible for her to hear. She pressed on.
The VIP area seemed to have lost it's exclusiveness and become Verdant's personal drug den. A sick, sweet smell of weed permeated the lofted area and Felicity spotted a few white lines across one of the tables in the back. She said a silent thank you to whoever was listening that she didn't find Oliver there.
After circling the area twice, she pushed and squeezed her way toward the basement.
Down below, she found Tommy, hiding out. He jumped up and walked toward her.
"What is going on?" Felicity asked. "What happened?"
"I don't know," Tommy stammered. "He just went off, pounded a bottle of whiskey, and then decided to throw a party."
"That isn't a party! It's a—a—" Felicity's forehead scrunched. "It's something really bad is what it is." She sighed, dropping her head into her hand. "Did he say anything to you at all?"
"It's just getting to him. His family, the company, his father…he just—"
"Why didn't you try to stop him?"
"He's my best friend," Tommy said. "What was I supposed to say? He's just acting up a little."
"A little?" Felicity scoffed.
Tommy's eyes narrowed. "Look, this is what Oliver does. I've known him long before you came along to start policing his behavior."
It was the meanest thing Felicity had ever heard Tommy say and it stung all the more because it was directed at her. She held her ground, in spite of the jab. "Then I guess you didn't need me to come here in the first place."
The angry expression on Tommy's face gave away to exhaustion. He wiped his hand over his face. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. Please—"
Whatever he was going to say was interrupted by the screech of feedback from the amps above. They both looked at each, holding a collective breath, waiting for what the sudden stopping of the music might mean.
"Ladies and gentlemen!"
Both Tommy and Felicity dashed up the stairs to the top floor as soon as they heard Oliver's gleeful voice echoing over the sound system.
Oliver was on the stage by the DJ booth, arms spread out, accepting the cheers and claps as if he were some deity over Starling City.
Felicity moved to push through the crowd, but Tommy grabbed her arm and pulled her in another direction, a back route with considerably less people.
"Good evening!" Oliver's voice echoed. "Thank you, for coming out, Starling City."
"I'm so glad that all of you are here. I don't know most of you, I will probably never meet most of you, but you know me. You know me because of stories you see on TMZ or the internet. Idle, cheap gossip it what you've heard…and I'm here tonight to tell you…that it's all true!"
A resounding round of cheers exploded as Tommy and Felicity reached the stage. She could see a crazy gleam in Oliver's eyes.
"I had a dream when I opened this club. I wanted it to be my own place. Something I built, that I could call my own. Not something that was gifted to me because of my name or who I am or how much money my family has. And you've all helped me realize that dream.
But more importantly, I've recently learned that it's more important to be who you are, no matter what. No one should ever have to feel that they need to pretend to be someone else, to gain approval."
The words sounded good on the surface, but Felicity could hear the antagonism behind each syllable. Oliver's "be yourself" speech wasn't born from epiphany, it was made by anger and disappointment, and probably a little Jack Daniel's.
"So tonight and every night, I invite you, to be what you are Starling City. The party, will never stop, until we say it stops!"
Again, cheers exploded and the music turned up again.
Oliver took a few moments to bask in the electric glow, posing for the cameras, before turning and noticing Felicity.
She wasn't sure what she was expecting, considering they hadn't spoken or seen each other since he left her apartment a week ago, but the smile on his face gave no indication that he was aware of that fact.
"There's my favorite girl," Oliver sidled up to her and planted a kiss on her cheek.
She never thought physical affection from Oliver would be something that disgusted her, but the kiss felt slimy, somehow, with his face etched into a permanent, charming grin. He didn't look like Oliver at all. Not her Oliver.
"Favorite girl?" Felicity made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a scoff, but it was lost to the thrum of the bass from the amps. "Then why haven't I heard from you in a week?"
"Aww, don't be like that," Oliver said taking her by the waist and attempting to pull her close. Felicity pushed her hands against his chest.
"What is going on with you?" she asked, trying not to be too loud, even though she had to shout to be heard over the music.
"It's a party," Oliver replied.
"This isn't a party, it's a zoo without cages," Felicity said. "I'm talking about you, why are you acting like this?"
Oliver's hands dropped away from her waist and he walked around her, a wry smile on his face. "Can we skip the dramatic, angry girlfriend act? Seriously, it's not you."
Felicity scowled, stomping down the stairs of the stage and after him as he headed toward the bar. "You're right, it's not me. Because I'm not your girlfriend. I am your friend and I've done nothing to deserve you treating me like I don't matter. Can we skip the giant asshole act? Seriously, it's not you."
Oliver swung around to face her, the two of them surrounded by dancing clubbers.
"This is who I am," he said to her, cavalier smile painted across his face. "I'm an asshole. You knew it the night you met me and even after you realized who I really was. You knew what you were getting into when you climbed onto my bike and then climbed into my bed."
"Fine. Maybe that's what it was the night we met, a one night stand," Felicity argued. "But the other night was—"
"More?" Oliver shook his head. "There isn't more with me, what you see is what you get. If you're not along for the ride, then feel free to step off."
"Oliver—"
"Look, don't feel so bad. Hundreds of girls fall for it. I know exactly what to say and do to get what I want. And after that first night together, I knew I wanted another. So I pretended to be the helpless, directionless guy that wants to change, because that's what girls like you like. You like a guy who you think you can change and save, but baby, that routine only last as long as it takes to get you out of your dress."
Oliver's head snapped to the side and the eyes surrounding them snapped in his direction. It happened so quickly that no one had actually seen, except Tommy, who'd been following behind and Sara who'd run up when she saw her friend getting into an argument and possibly in need of back up.
Felicity had hauled off and slapped Oliver.
He rubbed his cheek, gritting his teeth against the sting of her palm.
Felicity's eyes were watering and she tried to hold back the tears. There was nothing in his eyes except cool, blue annoyance.
"I thought you were better than this," she said, trying to keep her lip from shaking.
Oliver's frowned down at her, completely void of emotion. His eyes weren't the kind eyes she had come to love or even full of the false merriment she'd loathed only moments before. There was a dismissal within them that made her cringe back.
"Your mistake," he said, before turning on his heels and disappearing through the basement door.
Tommy was at her side in a moment, saying something, but Sara was there, too, pushing him away from her.
"Don't even try to defend him," she warned.
"He's just—"
"I said don't!" Sara shouted at him. "You're both poor little rich boys, fucking around because you think the world belongs to you. Guess what? It doesn't. We're done with both of you."
Felicity heard the words and normally would have patted her on the back and strutted out with her, but she was too stunned and heartbroken to move. She felt Sara's hand wrap around her arm and allowed herself to be tugged away from a helpless looking Tommy and past a crowd of cell phone holding onlookers to the doors.
It wasn't until they were out on the street that Felicity pulled back and forced Sara to stop her rage fueled escape.
"Wait, you—"
"Felicity Megan Smoak," Sara snapped. "Don't you even start to tell me that I can't quit my job, because there is no way that I can work for the asshole who broke my friend's heart into a million pieces. Or the asshole that continues to defend his behavior. You aren't the only one sick and tired of their bullshit! We're better than this! We don't deserve this! So if you try and turn this into a lecture about responsibility and sticking to my commitments and becoming a self sufficient adult I swear I'm going to scream."
Somehow, in spite of feeling like a train just ran over her heart, she managed a little grin at her friend's rant.
"I was going to say you're walking the wrong way. My car is around the other corner."
"Oh," Sara said, dropping back a half step. "Well, let's go."
She looped her elbow around Felicity's arm and they headed in the opposite direction. Felicity dropped her head against Sara's shoulder.
"Thanks," she said. "You're amazing."
Sara smiled and bobbed her head back against Felicity's as they walked. "You're amazing. Don't forget it."
Felicity had forgotten. Somewhere along the way, she'd forgotten how truly amazing she was. Her worth wasn't measured by someone like Oliver Queen had managed to look at her for more than five minutes, but because she was a brilliant woman, with a bright future ahead of her and friends who loved her and so much world ahead of her. She'd gotten lost, devoting so much time and energy to Oliver, and she had ended up exactly where she knew she would end up all along: on a big trip to brokenhearts-ville.
It would be okay, though. As Sara said, she was Felicity Megan Smoak, and she wouldn't let a man like that break her. She'd hurt now, but that hurt would go away eventually. She still had her brain and her great friends and her hopes for a great life. Nothing could take that away.
As she chirped open her car and climbed in to the driver's seat, she knew her next steps. It wasn't going to be easy and she would be taking a serious hit to her ego, but a woman had to do what a woman had to do.
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Oliver stared up at a bright, white light. Not knowing where the hell he was. His body felt like it had been ripped to shreds and there was a sharp stab between his brows. The world slowly came into focus as he continued to blink at the blinding light and he realized it was the sun streaming in through the skylight above him.
His fingers touched cool tile and he turned his head, feeling the rough scrap of rug against his cheek.
It took him a few moments to realize he was in Tommy's guest bathroom, curled up on the bathroom mat and staring at the toilet.
Oliver groaned, laying a hand over his eyes. He hadn't been this hung over since his college days. His mouth tasted like bile and cotton and his stomach ached from what he guessed must have been the multiple times that he'd thrown up. He was almost scared to move.
The need for water and the ache in his back from passing out on the cold, hard floor, gave him motivation to at least make an attempt at getting upright.
He stumbled down the hall, in just the boxer briefs he'd been wearing the night before, and found Tommy in the kitchen with coffee.
His friend looked up at him, but there was no mirth to be found in his expression. No affectionate chuckle at his state. No jokes about the bad decisions he might have made the night before.
Tommy's mouth was turned down into a disappointed frown.
"I'm surprised you're alive," he said, sitting up from where he'd been hunched over his iPad.
"I don't feel alive."
Tommy's brows twitched, but he didn't say any more, turning his attention back to whatever he'd been reading before.
Oliver ventured further into the kitchen toward him.
"Can I get some water?"
It felt strange, having to ask for something so simple. Especially when Oliver had practically lived in Tommy's apartment. Normally, he would have grabbed water, bagels, and whatever else he wanted.
He suddenly felt like a stranger; an unwanted guest that Tommy was having to put up with for the morning out of common decency.
"You know where everything is," Tommy replied, not moving his eyes from his screen.
Everything sounded too loud. The squeak as he opened the cabinet, the clink of the glass he pulled down, the shift of the ice and the spray of the water from the refrigerator fountain.
Oliver gulped down the cool liquid, letting it sooth his dry throat.
"Do I even want to ask what happened last night?"
Tommy flicked his eyes up toward him again. Oliver could feel the annoyance rolling off of him.
"How about I just show you?" Tommy stood and walked out of the kitchen. He didn't turn back, assuming that Oliver would follow. He did.
He rounded in front of the couch to the coffee table and picked up the control, turning on the television to some news channel.
His mouth fell open, when he saw the morning's big story. It was him and Felicity. A shitty cell phone camera had captured the drama. Felicity's hand flashed up and struck him in the face. Oliver touched his cheek, feeling the phantom sting of where she had hit him.
Tommy flipped the channel to an entertainment news source. There it was again, from another angle. The two of them clearly bickering and then the slap.
Once again, he turned the station, and there was another replay of the video, this time with commentary about who Felicity was and why she might have slapped Oliver Queen. They knew her name, knew she worked at Queen Consolidated, it was petty gossip being pushed as real news.
Tommy shoved the iPad he'd been holding in the kitchen into Oliver's chest. It was cued up to a YouTube video of him and Felicity.
Oliver caught the device and looked up at Tommy.
"You want to know what happened last night?" He asked. "Watch that a few hundred times and see if you can figure it out."
Tommy stalked away, leaving the TV on behind him.
"Tommy, come on—"
"No," he said, spinning back and holding out a finger. Oliver shut up right away, unsettled by the disappointment in Tommy's eyes. "Your temper tantrum resulted in a few casualties this time and you have to deal with that." He turned away again, but then stopped, seeming to think of something else to say and turned back. "I can't defend you anymore. You're my best friend but I just—" Tommy let out a heavy sigh. "I've never said anything to you, even when I think you were being the world's biggest dick, alright? When you were with Laurel, do you think it was easy for me to just sit here and listen to all the things you said about her and not saying anything in her defense?"
"This is about Laurel?"
"No, it's not about Laurel," Tommy groaned. "Yeah, I was in love with her, but that's in the past. This is about the fact that I've never said anything because you're my best friend and I was always too scared to, because that isn't who we are. We joke around and we don't take anything seriously and we tell people to fuck off who try to bring us down."
"I'm sorry, I know I've been—"
Tommy let out a harsh laugh. "You don't know. You don't aren't even close to knowing. Felicity stood up to you last night—something I've never been able to do—and you reacted in the way that we always react. The way that I've always been afraid you would react if I ever bothered to do something like that."
Tommy dropped his head, shaking it back and forth. Oliver gripped the iPad as the television droned on about the Queen family and recapped Robert's recent indiscretions, taking a short break to cover the weather and Starling traffic. He stared at the floor, unable to meet Tommy's eyes.
Was he really that big of an asshole that even his best friend, the person he trusted more than anything in the world, couldn't be completely truthful with him?
The sound of Tommy leaving the room made him lift his eyes again.
He looked down at the iPad in his hand and slumped onto the couch, hitting play and watch the content.
Even through the grainy quality of the video, he could see the hurt and anger in Felicity. He wanted to punch the smug expression off of his own face, wishing he knew what they were saying. Felicity struck him again. Each time he watched the video, he could feel the slap, all the way down to his bones.
"This just in," the reported on the TV said. "Our team over at Queen Consolidated has reported seeing Felicity Smoak driving into the building."
Oliver set down the iPad and turned up the volume on the television, listening to the rumors and speculation going about their relationship. The commentators wondered if she was a social climber, based on the report that she'd only been working at Queen Consolidated for two months. Was she attempting to infiltrate the company? Was she another Isabella Rochev, using blackmail and sex to climb the corporate ladder?
Oliver winced at the gossip, remembering the night that he'd punched the photographer, trying to defend Felicity. She'd never wanted this kind of attention. Now, because of him, the harsh spotlight had turned full blast onto her.
.
.
Felicity's goal was made a little more difficult as it was near impossible to get into Queen Consolidated the next morning. Fuel had been added to the fire when Felicity's slap went viral on YouTube. Staring News caught wind of the gossip and they declared the Queen family scandals kept piling up.
The Slap Hear 'Round Starling was all over every celebrity gossip network and Starling news outlet. The cheap notoriety was everything Felicity never wanted from her friendship with Oliver.
She looked into her rearview mirror and smooth back her ponytail, taking a deep breath and readying herself for the shark tank.
Photographers outside attempted to snap pictures of her through the plate glass windows of the QC lobby as she strode through the turnstiles and swiped her employee ID card.
Lewd looks from the men in the elevator and skeptical eyes from the ladies made her temper flare. Good, she would use it. When she was angry, she was less nervous, and less likely to incoherently babble.
Felicity went directly for the executive suite offices, finding her former executive assistant desk already filled by a new woman, about her age. The red head tried to stop Felicity from barging into Robert Queen's office, but Felicity ignored her and stomped forward, pushing the door open.
Robert Queen looked up from his desk as she barreled through the door. Mr. Steele was there, too. Felicity hated to do this in front of him. He was the one that hired her in the first place. She had great respect for the man, but she didn't have much of a choice.
"Sir, I tried to stop her," the new assistant called as she trailed Felicity into the office.
"It's alright," Robert assured her. "Miss Smoak, what can I do for you?"
"I need to speak with you."
"Of course. But I am in the middle of an important conference call, if you'll be so kind to schedule something with my assistant—"
"No, it has to be now. I don't care if you're on a conference call with the President, I'm not going to be pushed aside and made to wait two weeks to be granted an audience with Mr. Queen. I was in her shoes just a week ago and I know what 'schedule something with my assistant' is code for."
Silence hung around them as Felicity waited for Robert's answer. She watched him nod to the woman behind her and heard the door close.
"Attorney General," Robert said to the speakerphone, leveling Felicity with a look. "I'll have to call you back."
"So you were actually talking to the White House?" Felicity asked. She'd actually been exaggerating about the President thing.
"A new military weapons contract," Robert replied. "It was in the works before my trip."
Felicity nodded and moved closer to his desk. "Mr. Queen—"
Robert held up a hand to stop her. "Miss Smoak, before you proceed, I want to make one thing very clear. I am still the CEO of this company and your boss. You cannot manipulate me like you manipulated my son."
"Excuse me, but I never manipulated your son," Felicity countered. "If anything, this company stayed afloat because I was here to help your son, who frankly has no idea what the hell he is doing when it comes to running a multi-billion dollar corporation. So really, you should be thanking me instead of trying to put me down as some sort of dirty mistress like, say Isabel Rochev?"
"Miss Smoak—"
"Oh and you're wrong about another thing," Felicity continued. "You aren't my boss any more because I quit."
She didn't even wait for an answer or a reaction. She was shaking and she didn't want either of them to see. Instead she spun, her ponytail whipping around, and she strutted out of the office with her head held high.
Later that evening, she was parked on the couch at Laurel's apartment, waiting for Sara to come back with their take away dinner. Felicity had popped open a bottle of wine, but the glass she poured went untouched as she scrolled through Netflix and searched for something to watch.
The front door opened, but instead of Sara, it was Laurel who came through, home from work with brief case in hand. Felicity shifted nervously as Laurel set down her things and removed her gray blazer, that matched the pencil skirt she wore.
Hanging out at Laurel's apartment probably wasn't the best idea at the moment, but paparazzi were camped outside her own building, and Sara had promised that she would be a buffer to any awkwardness.
"Hi," Laurel said, stepping out of her heals and to the living area.
"Hi," Felicity returned, attempting a friendly smile. "Um, Sara should be back soon with some food."
"Are you okay?" Laurel asked.
"Oh, uh—yeah I'm okay. Unemployed now, but okay."
Laurel's eyes went wide. "They fired you?"
"No! No, no, no," Felicity waved her hand. "I quit."
Laurel let out a sigh and took a seat in the easy chair, kitty corner to where Felicity sat on the couch. "Good," she said. "I was about to offer my services to sue them for unfair dismissal."
Felicity laughed. "Thanks, maybe I'll keep that in mind the next time I decide to go to-toe-to with a powerful CEO who thinks I'm a giant, scheming whore."
"Oh, I applaud you. Even after dating Oliver and meeting his parents countless times, they always intimidated me. It was like they were always looking for a reason to not like me." Laurel's grin faded and Felicity felt some of the awkwardness that had dissipated start to creep back into the room. "For what it's worth, it's their loss. Queen Consolidated and Oliver's."
"I'm sorry I kept it a secret," Felicity said. "He's your ex."
"I appreciate that, but you don't have anything to apologize for," Laurel told her. "You don't owe me or anyone else an explanation. It hurts, knowing that I tried so hard to get Oliver to love me, and that he went and fell for someone else, but you didn't do anything wrong."
Felicity smiled, pushing at her glasses. "Oliver wasn't in love with me."
The smile Laurel gave her was a regretful one, a reflection of sad knowledge, that she'd rather not have. "Felicity, Oliver changed when he became friends with you. You gave him a reason to be someone different. If that's not love, then I don't know what is."
Felicity didn't know if that was true or not. Maybe it had been at one point, but after last night, it didn't seem to matter much any more.
"Okay, I've got pizza, garlic bread, mozzarella sticks, lots of fried goodness to down our—oh, hey Laurel."
Sara came through the front door, with pizza boxes in hand, and stopped when she noticed her sister sitting with Felicity. Her eyes flicked between the two of them, wondering what might have been happening before she got there.
Felicity turned to Laurel. "We've got a lot of food and wine and action movies, care to join us?"
"I could use a girl's night," Laurel smiled.
Sara let out a breath of relief and set the boxes of food out on the coffee table. Laurel grabbed plates and another wine glass and Felicity passed her the bottle. The three of them ate their feelings, finished off a bottle of wine, and bonded over stupid boys and broken hearts.
At around midnight, Felicity decided that it was time for her to sneak home, hoping that any lingering photogs had scurried home to whatever snake pit they lived in for the evening.
"Job hunt begins tomorrow?" Sara asked.
Felicity rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I can't afford to be unemployed for very long. I'm still trying to get back on track after moving. Although, I'm not looking forward to being at the Tech Hut, which is probably the only place that will hire me until the gossip dies down."
"You know," Laurel said. "CNRI is in need of an IT administrator. We deal with a lot of sensitive information and our systems are no where near as secure as they should be."
Felicity blinked. "Are you offering me a job?"
"It won't pay very much and I can only put in a good word but…" Laurel shrugged.
"I accept!" Felicity said quickly. "Seriously, it beats working in electronics repair. I did that all through college and I am never going back." She shivered just thinking about it.
"Great, I'll set something up for next week."
"Thanks, Laurel," Felicity said. Laurel told the two girls goodnight and Sara walked Felicity down to her car.
"Was it just me," she said. "Or were we having fun with Laurel tonight?"
"Laurel isn't that bad," Felicity said. "Plus, we bonded over having our heart broken by the same guy."
Sara tilted her head in sympathy and pulled her in for a quick hug. Felicity grinned, thinking that she felt a whole lot better than she should feel, considering everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours. Knowing she had her friends at her back though, made all the unwanted attention and heart break that much easier to bear.
"I'll call you tomorrow," Sara said and Felicity nodded, turning for her car.
"Felicity."
She stopped and turned toward the familiar male voice behind her. He was the last person she expected to see waiting for her outside of Laurel's building.
"What are you doing here?" She asked.
"Looking for you," he answered.
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Ending on a cliffy, to motivate myself for some more writing.
Thank you again to everyone who encourages me to keep writing this and telling me that they enjoy it. I'm here for you, if nothing else.
PS anyone watching Captain Amell on Summerslam tonight? I will be!
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