Alone In A Crowded Room (A Lestappen Story)

Etcetera

Charles didn't do this a lot. He really didn't. But sometimes, when it got so much he'd place a call, late at night and call all the friends of his the media never saw to a club where journalists never thought to look.

He really didn't do this a lot but he was in the process of dressing up for the polaroids and cigarettes and it felt so . . . normal. He didn't really feel anything about it, though. He just took a breath, fixed his hair and left.

Charles didn't do this a lot, he could swear it, but he knew exactly which dead end streets sold the designer drugs.

It was two in the morning the night after the China grand prix and Charles was standing on a table as the people around him cheered. He took shots and drugs alike from the people's hands for the high or to just feel anything at all.

It had been a downright horrible race and he was done being sad and numb. He was done smiling for fan's pictures and pretending to like things he didn't. He was done with this - this suffocatingly socialised, romanticised life and he screamed as much. Cheers erupted all across the bar and he beamed, half with love, half with regret.

His phone was in his hands and he was scrolling through the contacts looking for his driver when he saw a name that stood out 'Sid the Sloth'. He'd saved it all those years ago and never changed it. He smiled a little as he thought of the way the two looked alike. He couldn't explain where or why but they were the same and yet so different.

It was four forty in the morning when he couldn't physically take another shot. The drugs were over and he was let high as a hawk. All his wallflower friends were gone and he was left with lowlives. He laughed at the thought, still high.

AN // Heyo guys this is my Sunday chapter (also with a reference to a song) as promised, tho next time I'm waiting to promise after i post the second part because I realised no one guessed the last chapter's reference yet lol

Anyways, how do y'all feel about this?