𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞; oscar piastri

PART ONE

Word count; 3,560

Tomás

— February 19th, 2023. Sakhir, Bahrain.

The bass hit me first, a deep thrum in my chest as I stepped through the doors, heads turning almost immediately - as they always did. The club reeked of sweat and spilled booze, of poor decisions and even poorer stakes; a familiar atmosphere - the low mumurs as I walked through the crowd, the stares piercing my back. Liam trailed just behind me, regret already harrowing his expression - the fact I'd dragged him here in the first place.

"Relax, mate." I told him, putting a hand on the nape of his neck.

"Easy for you to say," He retorted.

Of course it was, I smirked. I thrived in places like these, where the tequila poured freely into shot glasses, where the music surmounted any sense of responsibility. It was my world.

Approaching the bar, I thudded my fist on the counter, wondering what to order, when I noticed a familiar face at the other end; Pierre nodded in acknowledgement and I smirked in return, requesting five shots - four for us, one for him.

"What the hell, Taz," Liam complained, stealing my attention, "What happened to taking it easy?"

"You need to let loose, baby," I elbowed him, "How you gonna do that with adonises, huh?"

"I'll do perfectly fine." He frowned, watching the shots being poured in front of us.

I prompted my brows, picking up two of the glasses. Across the bar, Pierre thanked the tender for the shot, raising it in my direction respectfully. Smiling back, I threw the sambuca into the back of my mouth one after the other, throat warming at the taste.

"Oh, that's good," I returned the glasses to the counter.

Liam glared at me, his two shots untouched. I glared right back.

"I'm not touching them." He shrugged. "So unless you want to waste your money-"

I rolled my eyes, "What if I have one?"

"No."

"Yes."

"No!"

"Yes!" I chuckled, "You'll barely feel it."

"I find it quite convenient that you forget every other time I've had shots and thrown up after."

"Come on, man." I retrieved the two glasses, holding one out in front of him. "Just one."

He scowled at me, an exhale falling from his lips. He snatched the glass, wincing at the flavour.

"Well done, I'm proud of you," I downed my own, catching the attention of the bartender again. "Four more."

"Taz!"

I shushed him, admiring the liqueurs on the back wall, "Have you ever tried cointreau?"

Liam shook his head in irritation, ordering an adonis as if it would stop my pandering. I thumped my hand on his shoulder affectionately, at last taking a moment to look around the crowd behind me. It was a standard pre-season party, with drivers, friends, girlfriends - plus anyone that could find their way in, really. Still, the music blasted off the walls, almost numbing my ears, and I faced the back wall of the bar again.

"I don't know how you can drink that crap," I narrated, observing Liam sip on his adonis.

"What crap?"

"Sweet vermouth." I grimaced, finding one of the shots I had asked for and swallowing it in one.

"I'm sorry it's not to your standards." He riposted, taking another swig.