The Markelov Papers - Artem Markelov

PROLOGUE

"Another one of that, please." I told the bartender as I showed him the shooter glass I had just emptied. Tequila was what I needed at the moment.

"Same for me!"

I looked on my right to see a young brownish man take a sit next to me. The bar was almost empty, did he have to come right next to me? I sighed, not in the mood for some intense one-sided flirt.

"Bad day?" He asked.

"Why do you care?" My ton was severe, I was hoping he would understand he had no chance with me tonight and would leave me alone. I just got betrayed by the two most important persons in my life, and I wasn't the kind go into bed with the first stranger I encounter to forget how much my life sucks.

"Cause I'm having a pretty bad day, and it would be reassuring to know my life isn't the only one to be crap at the moment."

I stared as him for a while, intrigued by what he said. This wasn't a typical ladies man pick up line. Besides, he had a strange accent, maybe Russian, and I had no idea what he was doing in the middle of Enstone. This had stirred up the curious journalist in me.

"I'm intrigued. Go on." The bartender handed us our drinks and the stranger left a huge note on the counter, telling the bartender he was paying for both drinks and that he could keep the change. This man was definitely wealthy! If he was to ruin my get-drunk-and-move-on night, paying for my drink was the least he could do.

"I'm a racing driver. Except I have not won anything these past few months. I keep making mistakes, and not only when I'm in the car. My team will probably leave the championship next season and I won't find any other team if I don't do better. Also, I'm starting to get old, and I feel like my chances of making it to Formula 1 are getting thinner and thinner."

"Well, can't you? Do better? Driving a car can't be that difficult."

He snickered and shook his head, visibly amused. At least I'm good at changing people's mood!

"You've never watched Formula 2, have you?"

"Should I?" I emptied the shooter and asked for another. Sure, I heard about Formula 1 before, I guess Formula 2 is the same thing, but I never found any interest in watching cars run around after each other. Sports in general wasn't my thing, except football, but as a Brit I have to like football, right?

"Not necessarily. But I can tell you it's much more difficult than it looks like."

"That's what they all say." I paused. "You enjoy it?"

"Racing?"

"No, horse riding. Of course, racing!" I chuckled and tilted my head to the left.

"I love it. I always have, actually."

"If you like it so much, it shouldn't matter how hard it is. You should work your ass off and fight for it. So what if you're not sure you'll be there next year? Use it! It'll only make you stronger, and faster. Your mistakes should not define you. You make some, so what? It doesn't mean you're going to make others. That's up to you, and you only. You should fight for a chance to get into Formula 1. Nothing's lost yet, I'm sure." I stated, looking at him drinking his small glass in a gulp.

"I didn't take you for the philosopher type." He stared at me, now being intrigued himself.

"You don't know me."

"What's up with you then?"

"I just like having tequila on a Monday evening." I shrugged and drank my third shooter of the night, the wealthy stranger once again leaving the bartender a bill to pay for it.

"Alright, let me guess. It's about a guy?" I stared at him. Did he not understand I preferred to be left alone with my alcohol? "It's about a girl? Oh no, wait! It's about a guy and a girl! Am I right?" He wiggled his eyebrows and I couldn't prevent myself from laughing. Bloody tequila making me all joyful!

"Come on, spill it." He took his second shooter to his lips as he stared at me, waiting for me to start talking. I sighed as I understood he wouldn't leave me alone until I talked.

"I got dumped a couple of weeks ago. Which is alright, you know, independent woman who doesn't need a guy to be happy and all. But today I found out he was screwing my best friend."

"So you turned to your other best friend, the tequila." He pointed the emptied glasses of shooter before me.

"Yeah, she's the best. Never disappoints, and no risk she's going to betray me."

"You should not let people take you down like that. Whoever they are. As soon as they have a bad effect on you, you should erase them from your life and your memory. I don't know them, and I don't know you, but I don't think anyone is worth getting drunk on tequila for. Like you said, independent woman and all. You don't need anyone."

I stared at his face for a few seconds. This man was more interesting than I thought he would be. Actually, I was glad he came to me. This evening wouldn't have been the same otherwise. He had this thing, I don't know what, that made me feel comfortable enough to tell him about my life and show him my weaknesses.

"What's your name, racing boy?"

"Artem. What's yours, tequila girl?"

"Raina."

"We're both messed-up, huh?" Artem drank another shooter of tequila.

"I guess so, Artem."

He left the bar and went to the toilets. I used that time to look at my phone. It was midnight already. And I had work on the next day. I sighed and put my coat on and my handbag around your arm. As I was about to step out of the bar, I stared at the toilets' door where Artem left a few seconds before. I bite my bottom lip and, before thinking twice, wrote my phone number with my pink lipstick on a napkin that I slid under his last glass. He could do whatever he wanted with it. I left the bar and walked to my apartment, a few blocks from there.

A few days later...

Hello tequila girl.

Just wanted to thank you for the talk. I'm actually sending you this text from my driver room in Austria, and there's a nice trophy sitting beside me. How's life been for you these past few days?

Racing boy

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Thanks to the Christmas break, I have some time (and tons of ideas!) to write a new story. This is based on a two parts one shot I had written a while ago on Max Verstappen and posted on my OS book. I liked the plot and decided to turn it into a short story, staring Artem Markelov. It will be short, probably 5 or 6 chapters, just like my previous short stories. It's the only way to be sure I'll actually finish them ahaha.

Please, don't hesitate to comment on what you think about this. I hope you'll like it as much as I do! The playlist will be posted soon next week and the first chapter not long after that.

Enjoy your holidays! 💗💗