| Chapter Two

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"He wonders if all the drama in public spaces is just meant to cause just that: drama. Or maybe they just like to annoy the hell out of him... which is probably correct as well."

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Thomas loves parties. He's been into this word of bliss and alcohol since he was eighteen, and still, nine years later he manages to enjoy it as much as he did when he was a teenager.

Not the same way though. Never the same way. He's no longer aching for alcohol, because back then it had been the only thing that Thomas had been excited for. Getting drunk... legally. And he did, plenty of times, but over time he had learned that parties are so much more than alcohol.

Parties are people getting lost on the music and the frenetic lights around them. They're breaths mingling with breaths as the night goes on, transforming the air into something so heavy yet so... appropriate. They're the number of individuals trying to forget about the things that make them feel terrible, hopeless, they're all that and so much more. And Thomas loves it.

He disperses in the crowd after Newt and Minho do, deciding on going alone to the bar like he usually does. The place is dark, so the possibility of being recognized is lowered to a minimum as long as the the lights don't flash on his face. Which, as he comes to the conclusion seconds later, isn't that hard.

He calls the bartender, who stops in front of him with a face that screams boredom. "I'll take the strongest you have, please." The man nods before disappearing behind the balcony.

Thomas gulps down one shot and a few more and hours later, when Newt and Minho find Thomas with a great quantity of alcohol on his system as well, he's somehow already surrounded by people and paparazzis.

"What do you think about the transactions made to other companies without Mr.Twombly's consent?" A man about his age asks, holding his phone on his hand to record the interrogation. Because that's what it is, in reality. An interrogation without his consent.

"I've said it plenty of times, my father knew about everything since the beginning." Thomas answers quite rudely because let's face it: he just wants the guy to leave him alone. He knows he's doing his job but dammit! It's a Friday night, he's tipsy, and as the other people inside this room, he just wants to have some fun!

These 'incidents' (as Newt likes to call them) tend to happen frequently when people notice Thomas somewhere, and he just wishes he could have some kind of privacy and time to enjoy whatever good there exists on this world.

"Don't you think encouraging young people to party and drink great amounts of alcohol endangers your reputation?"

Okay, that's just stupid.

"What?" Thomas mumbles, aghast, trying his best to get out of the crowd of people around him, pushing and bumping into bodies carelessly.

"What would Mr. Twombly think of it?"

"What really happened to your Mother, Sir?"

"That's enough." Thomas pushes violently a few people away from him, trying his best to hurry through the corridor of sweaty, drunk people that had stopped to watch the scene. He doesn't even care if he's ignoring whoever is asking him questions, because they just don't have the right to touch such sensitive topic for him like family, and there won't ever be a time when they will.

"Thomas!" He hears a voice he recognizes being Minho's call through the crowd, but he chooses to ignore it as well. He doesn't need to be held back when everything he needs at the moment is to get out from that place.

He's had a few drinks, he has to admit, and probably driving in that condition could put him in trouble, but that's what alcohol does to someone. It enables the ability to care. Thomas doesn't really care about police at the moment, and how his face will be at the front page of every journal the next morning. He just wanted some time away from the spotlight, but not even that he was allowed to have.

He gets inside his expensive car, once again not giving a single care about the crazy people following behind. Without thinking too much of the consequences, he smashes his foot on the speeding pedal, driving away from the club as fast as he can.

A few minutes later, his phone starts ringing from inside his pocket, and looking at the rearview mirror Thomas notices that things have calmed down slightly. He wonders if all the drama in public spaces is just meant to cause just that: drama. Or maybe they just like to annoy the hell out of him, which is probably correct as well.

Thomas picks his phone up, accepting the call. "Minho." He calls.

"Thomas! What the hell are you doing?!"

He heaves out a frustrated sigh. "Trying to run away from crazy people meant to overwhelm me with questions, maybe."

"You need to do something about this man... this can go on forever." Minho retorts as Thomas turns on the driveway.

"Well, yeah, try saying that to them."

"Where are you going? Thomas you've had drinks, you shouldn't be driving." The boy worries, but Thomas dismisses his preoccupation.

"Don't worry Minho, I'll be just fine. I'll just crash somewhere." Somewhere nobody can find me.

He hears a defeated sigh from the other side. "All right. Call if you need anything."

"Thanks, man." Thomas ends the call, throwing his phone on the passenger seat aimlessly. However, the device ends up jumping and landing on the floor, away from his sight. "Dammit."

He doesn't understand how he can ignore people screaming his name but cannot ignore the uneasiness that his phone being out of his reach inflicts on him. He tries to not focus on it, but he finds it impossible. Alcohol does that, dumbass he thinks.

He takes a look at the road ahead of him and when he's sure he's at a safe distance from other cars (which isn't hard, there's barely cars on the street and no one is in front of him), Thomas bends over the console, extending an arm to reach his phone.

"Gotcha." Thomas grips his phone, finally placing it on the passenger seat, his eyes darting to the road in front of him, slightly unfocused.

Nothing could possibly had prepared him for the car that appears right in front of his eyes, driving against the flow.

Thomas embraces himself the moment he catches a glimpse of the lights against his eyes, blinding him temporarily.

He tries to steer the wheel in order to escape the racing car but realizes it's utterly useless.

The car comes crashing on his front and Thomas only has time to scream before he feels a powerful jolt going through his body. He feels his back strongly hitting something, sending a pang of pain all over his system, but it soon vanishes away when he bumps his head on something he can't catch a glimpse of because his eyes immediately fall shut, darkness soon invading him completely as any trace of consciousness escapes his mind.

His face appears on the first page of the newspapers the next day, however not because of the reasons he had expected it to be about the previous night.

A/N

Hey guys! Second chapter is up!

I hope you enjoyed it and what do you think will happen to Thomas?? 🤔

Thank you for all your love and support and I'll see you next chapter!

Love you! ❤️

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