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I look down at my lap as my eyes flicker at the man opposite me. His eyes are dark whilst he looks at his screen with a monotone face.

The awkwardness screams for me to talk as I look out of the window, scared of his response. "Do we have a pla-"

"Hazel Woods." He says bluntly, not even attempting to look at me. I don't know how he knows my last name since no one on here knows it either. My name in his mouth sent shivers down every part of my body then he continued. "Just because I'm in the same room as you doesn't mean I want to talk to you."

His words felt like someone had stabbed me for some reason. It oddly hurts. I nod, accepting that he doesn't want to talk. "Sorry," I murmur so he can just about hear me.

I hear footsteps getting closer to the door, the lingering smell of liquor becoming more prominent the closer he gets. I see Niall coming through the slim doorframe with shot glasses and a bottle of alcohol in his soft-looking hands. He sits down and I watch him place the contents beside him, making sure nothing spills.

"My favourite!" Liam says, walking in as well. Liam sits beside Harry, leaning in, eager to take a shot. I roll my eyes then see Harry staring directly at me. I freeze in my place as I watch his jaw clench before his eyes flicker back down to his screen.

Liam rubs his tattooed hands together, longing to take a swig. I see Niall pour four shot glasses with the alcohol before passing one to Liam. "Haz want one?" I turn to see that he's referring to Harry.

Harry's eyes don't leave his screen. "It's Harry." He corrects him, not answering his question. I look at his ringed, beaten hands holding the screen but decide to look away. Something about Harry makes everything so cold.

In silence, Liam hands Harry one of the glasses so that there are still two glasses left. Niall nudges one towards me in the crowded space between us. "Want one?" He asks me.

I've never really had alcohol before. I do remember sometimes mum would let me sip some of hers on a night out. An evening spent beneath the bakery. Anyhow, that was wine- not something to drink from a shot glass. Mum says my dad's favourite wine was rose.

It wouldn't hurt to try it.

"When are we going to discuss about our task?" I ask, trying to be sensible about my decisions.

"Tomorrow when we get to our first stop." He answers my question.

Mum wouldn't be happy about this for lots of reasons. This is something she would never want. However, this is a one-time thing. Having an aching pit in my stomach, I take it from his still hand.

"3,"

What if I can't down it?

"2,"

I look at the shot and contemplate my decisions.

"1,"

Before I back out, the shot was already trickling down my throat.

I cringe at the burning sensation that's irritating my taste buds as I put the shot glass and place it between my legs by my knees. My tongue burns as I hear Niall clap for me, being way too dramatic about it all.

"She's a good one," He celebrates... me taking a shot? Although the aftertaste burns as if you're putting a flame to your tongue, I still get the raging adrenaline from it. "Want another?" He asks.

Before I get to answer, he pours everyone a shot again. I subconsciously took one, and instead of getting a pit in my stomach, I got a rush of adrenaline.

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