Earn My Trust - CL16

66 - Wild & Free

"Hey, I'm a little drunk on you, and high on summertime." Drunk On You, Zach Bryan

Sunday November 14th, 2021

Cami Beaufort

I was tired, sore, and had absolutely zero desire to dress up and spend the night in some crowded Brazilian club, yet somehow I found myself swiping lipgloss across my lips, adjusting the silky black fabric of my Armani minidress that was tight across my hips. Unfortunately, I had no choice in the decision to go out and party the night away. Races like Brazil came with afterparty expectations, and in addition to that pressure, we were treating this as a proper celebration for my best friend's birthday, although he was just about as disappointed as I was about the race weekend. Frustration about the race was only one excuse on a long list of reasons why partying was the last thing I wanted to do, and it wasn't even right at the top. Primarily, I was uncomfortable with the idea of being in a club after everything that had unfolded after the race in Austin.

I was expressing those thoughts to Fewtrell, who I had on speakerphone as I finished curling my hair. If I was being forced to go out, I may as well look fantastic when I had to.

"I will spend the whole evening at your side, I promise," My best friend swore over the phone, and I knew that if we were having this conversation in person he would have forced me to pinky swear about it already.

His seriousness soothed the worries fluttering around my brain, but not entirely. I had spent basically the entire night in Austin in the company of men that I would trust with my life, and yet the worst had still happened.

"Even when I have to use the washroom?" I teased, expecting a laugh in response but I got continuous stoicism from the Brit.

"Absolutely, I will put my hair up in a ponytail and become Maxine if that's what it takes," He replied, and I doubled over with laughter as I pictured him doing exactly that, my chest hurting with the force of it.

"God, now that's something I need to see," I giggled as I touched up my mascara, smudged from my nap earlier.

Fewtrell was one of the best people for cheering me up, whether that was with genuine love and friendship, or simply with him being enough of an idiot that I couldn't remain anxious, angry, or upset for any longer. He was going for a mix of both at the moment, and it was the right amount of seriousness and idiotic behaviour to calm my racing thoughts.

"Maybe one day if you get me drunk enough. I'll see you at the club, okay?" He laughed over the phone as I smoothed my hands over my curls. They were silky and glossy, no longer frizzy and sweaty like they had been after the race.

"Yeah, sure, I'll see you when we get there," I acknowledged, nodding as if he could see me. My phone beeped and went dark, he had hung up.

I was considerably calmer as I checked myself over in the mirror one last time before pulling on my heels. I wasn't normally a fan of the stilettos that Armani kept trying to style me in, but this dress practically required them, and I liked feeling tall anyways. The dress was strapless, a tiny black thing with boning that accentuated a small v-neck. It was simple, so simple that my gold jewelry became the statement. I was only wearing a pair of hoop earrings, a bracelet and the necklace that I never took off. The number 24 glowed in the dim lighting, reflecting rays from the lamp on my nightstand that was still on.

I heard a gentle knock on the solid wood door and quickly slipped my phone and key card into my purse. Charles and I were going together like always, but instead of meeting in the lobby like we usually did, he had insisted that he pick me up from my hotel room this time. I sort of understood why, although not entirely. Fans had found out which hotel we were staying in and had been camping out by the entrance and peering in through the lobby windows all weekend, so if we wanted to look like we were really together, we had to arrive in the lobby side by side.