Chase You -1- Formula 1

34. So you think you can sing?

A/n: bonus chapter because I didn't upload yesterday and I had a fun day.

"You're late," I stated while I stepped into George's car. Sophia and mum left for the hospital again and Sabrina found herself a job in a bar, which meant she had to work crazy hours. I barely saw my best friend since her shifts ended around five am, or until the last group left and she slept during the day. To be alone again after a boring day where I only saw Sabrina at dinner (or her breakfast) felt unnecessary. I developed enough energy to hang out with people and I wanted to take advantage of that rare situation, so when I didn't feel like meeting up, no one expected me to. "No wonder you lost the championship, at this pace you'll cross the finish line last."

"I'm fashionably late darling," he stated. "And I won our karting duel." That was the exact reason I went out with him now. I made him a promise, the karaoke bar, and I wanted to keep that promise. It would also prevent him from asking me out all over again, so it needed to happen as soon as possible. For just a karaoke night, he dressed pretty smart, similar outfits to what the boys wore at Lando's party. A white button-up shirt with dark jeans. He left the two top buttons open. I felt a little underdressed with just my sparkly sweater and black trousers, but I blamed it on him being overdressed.

Wearing white to a pizzeria never seemed like a good idea, well, not if your name was Daisy Mayfield and you managed to stain all your clothes with tomato sauce. George on the other hand, left the restaurant without having spilt any drinks or food. I couldn't relate, I sincerely apologised to the waiter who needed to clean all the mess I made, but I gave her a tip more expensive than the dinner itself, so we couldn't have been the worst customers of the night.

We already warmed up our voices in the way to the karaoke bar, singing along with some classic old-fashioned music. To my disappointment, he had no one direction cd's hidden in the Mercedes. To make it up he swore to sing one direction at the bar, as a solo so I could laugh at him.

I had my elbow on the rounded table, propping up my chin while waiting for George to sing. He sat next to me on the other side. We had fun, laughing at people with not so pretty voices, but we both knew we couldn't do much better. George patted my shoulder and I showed a thumbs up when he walked onto the stage. I obviously cheered the loudest for my friend, with a tone of sarcasm just in case.

"So, I'd like to dedicate my performance to my favourite girl, applause for Daisy, please thank you." I felt my cheeks turn red and hot, I covered my face while I shook my head. "Yeah she's seated right there, I'll convince her to sing later. Let's go then!" He received a loud applause and started singing. I already felt embarrassed for him, a little nervous as well, because our duet would come up next.

I decided to treat myself to a few shots before going up the stage. Though, I certainly got better at drinking, being slightly tipsy always helped me care less about things, not that I haven't humiliated myself in public before. I just liked to forget it the next day. By the time George finished 'what makes you beautiful' enough alcohol contained in my body so I didn't feel like I embarrassed myself.

I stumbled up the stage and quickly started the song. Bright lights blinded me and I couldn't spot the audience, which benefited me a lot. George squeezed my hand when we started singing wake me up before you go-go, like I promised at the track. I couldn't care less when I remembered the confidence I collected at the start of the year, two weeks ago. I was a decent singer, not the best, but definitely not the worst. Mediocre to put it nicely. After our 'stunning' performance, we hugged and went off the stage, making place for another group.

"That was-"

-"weird." I finished the sentence for him and took a sip of a drink I got from a girl at the bar. I waved and smiled, then played with the bracelet Charles got me for Christmas. I bought him a matching one, it looked similar to the one he braided when he visited my family for the first time, but this one was silver and lasted longer than the one made of yarn, which I still wore on my wrist because it made me feel special. I'd never take it off myself, the colours already faded away, but in my eyes; all that mattered was the thought he'd put into it.