behind cameras- c.l

twelve

By the time I've finished my third martini, the food starts arriving. Plates of sushi and edamame bean salads start appearing, being eaten as quickly as they are delivered.

After my weird conversation with Charles, we don't really talk for the rest of the evening. I divert my attention to Lando and Alex, where I gather a lot of embarrassing information about George, which I fully intend to use against him later.

The final dishes arrive, and I signal to a waiter for another drink. I hear Charles scoff next to me.

"Another one?" He mutters, reaching across to pick something up from next to me.

I roll my eyes. "Yeah. And?"

"I forget you're not driving tomorrow." He says. "Carry on, I guess."

"I will." I retort. "Also, if I was a Formula 1 driver, we both know I would beat you." My words come out slightly slurred, and he chuckles.

"Whatever you say, love."

My brows furrow. "Don't call me that. My name is..." I hiccup. "My name is Alicia, dickhead."

His gaze softens slightly. "Sorry, Alicia." That's the first time I can remember him calling me by my first name.

I pat him on his shoulder clumsily. "It's okay, Charles."

He lets out a breathy laugh, leaning into my touch. "I think you've had enough to drink already, Alicia." He says softly.

I shake my head. "Nonsense. There no such thing as too much to drink, you idiot."

"Right." He sounds amused. "Well, at least make sure you leave enough space to do shots with me later, okay?"

I nod. "Aye aye, captain."

He shakes his head fondly, reaching over to scoop some rice onto my plate for me. I watch him warily. "Don't poison me, please."

"I wouldn't dare." He replies, putting my plate back. "Do I not get a thank you?"

"Thank you, asshole." I say, scooping rice into my mouth. Charles chuckles again, signalling to the waiter.

"I'll have another martini as well, please." He says politely.

I snicker. "Hypocrite."

He turns to face me. "I figured we should be on the same wavelength tonight."

I scrunch my nose. "I don't know what that means but fuck yeah."

Charles laughs. "That's the spirit."

Our drinks arrive, and vanish just as quickly. Charles orders us another round, and we finish theses ones slower, eating as well as drinking to not pass out.

My brain feels fuzzy, and I feel really warm inside. I tend to get drunk often, so I still have control over my actions, whereas Charles seems to be falling apart at the seams a little quicker than me.

By the time all the plates have been cleared and other people also seem to be getting stuck into drinking now, Charles finally orders the tequila shots he promised me at the start of the night.

Kika, who is next to Charles, whoops when they arrive. George, from across the table, raises his eyebrows at me. We haven't spoken all night, being sat opposite and too far away, but I don't doubt he would have picked up on me and Charles' interactions.

I stick my tongue out at him, and he shakes his head subtly, his eyes glancing over to Charles, who's chair has moved nearer to mine, our arms touching. I flush slightly.

George carries on staring at me, biting the inside of his cheek, stony faced as Charles puts a hand my shoulder, tearing me away from the staring contest with George. The brunet offers me a shot glass, which I take gladly.