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Tw: Blood.
***

"Emmy hurry the fuck up" The annoying whiny voice belonging to the annoying whiny Dutchman once again sounded through the thin white bathroom door of my hotel room.

We were about to go down to the track, Me, Max and Christian. A unified front to continue our fight against the rumored, and very real, distain between Max and I. The team usually wanted us to be seen leaving the hotel together and entering the paddock as a team but now they really insisted on it, in other words it was not up for discussion.

Lucky me.

I however overslept, resulting in Max and Christian having to wait as I hurriedly got ready, which is what led to the current situation aka Max banging on the poor bathroom door for for ten minutes straight while I tried to get ready. I had been out celebrating last night, even though I did call it quits early enough to get a full eight hours of sleep I did not have the energy to wash my make up off. And it is over my dead body that I walk onto the paddock looking like a raccoon.

Max was in a terrible mood, I had qualified in second position for the race and on pole for the
sprint. He however had quite badly clipped the wall in Q2, resulting in him getting through to Q3 but not being to partake- leaving him in tenth for the race and twentieth for the sprint. Ha sucker.

Needles to say he was in a shit mood and my surge from the dead (better known as back of the pack)
only seemed to further fuel his broodiness. Not so fun whenever you not number one, huh Maxie?

"Max shut the fuck up, I am washing my face, will be out in a sec. Ow fuck" Some of the florally scented foamy facial cleanser got into my eye as a result of my harsh rushed scrubbing. I used both of my hands to splash the lukewarm water onto my foamy face, getting the soap off and covering the floor around me and counter in front of me with water.

Just as I grabbed the towel to dry my face Max started to once again obnoxiously pound on the door, making it jiggle violently on its hinges. When I looked up from the towel everything was completely blurred and my eyes stung like a bitch, lesson learned; don't get soap in your eyes kids.

I just about heard the door open before something came flying at me. Since my eyes were still tainted with soap I could not quite make out what it was but due to its silhouette I assumed Max had snatched my toothbrush from the counter by the door and thrown it at me, though when I caught it with my right hand I was met with a sharp pain covering the palm of my hand.

"Ow, knulla din mamma som fan aj" I swore as I dropped what I now presumed to be a razor. Through my blurry vision I could make out the edges of a bright red line across the entirety of my palm almost gushing out blood and I felt as if I was going to be sick. Gore always made me squeamish.

Blood from the wound started to drip onto the floor. As it landed it mixed with the water on the floor in a way that made it seem like I had bled an extreme amount. My entire hand was pulsating and I gagged as I saw the flow starting to almost pulsate out.

"Why the fuck would you do that you fucking idiot? " I yelled, slightly panicked, in the direction of the closed door. As I blinked in pain my vision started to clear up and I got a better look at the situation. I never was good with blood and I had to use my left hand to cover my mouth as I gagged once again.

My entire hand and a good portion of the floor were covered with blood, effectively making my bathroom look like a bloody crime scene. "Max what did you do?" I could hear Christian's worried and annoyed voice accompanied by footsteps as he neared the other side of the door.

"She is just being stupid, I only threw a toothbrush, I swear" His voice sounded accusing but I didn't have the mental capacity to get mad over it as I scrambled to get the razor off the floor while using my elbow to
apply pressure to the pulsing wound covering my palm. "No you fucking idiot you threw a fucking razor you dim witted son of a-"

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