𝘽𝙄𝙏𝙏𝙀𝙍, max verstappen

chapter eleven.

max woke up with that cold feeling again.

the same he had felt yesterday. without camila next to him, nothing made him feel that comfort she had.

as max began to rub his eyes, slowly waking up, he reached over towards his phone sat on the nightstand, opening a few messages and then opening twitter, something he rarely did considering he wasn't a very big fan of social media.

and his hatred for social media was only confirmed even more when an image of charles kissing camila popped up on his feed. thousands of tweets, posted everywhere with the same picture of charles, his hand cupping camila's jaw, kissing her.

there was no fucking way. mila? the girl who told max that she only wanted him, had her lips on someone else's.

and that someone else was the one person that caused everything to come crashing down, for herself and the both of them.

but camila didn't even know it. because charles had manipulated her, clearly.

she had fallen for his touch. she had forgotten about max's. was he not good enough? was it not real for her?

that afternoon in her apartment, when everything came crashing down; was she just trying to convince herself that max didn't want her because the reality was that she didn't want him?

because she obviously wanted charles, max could clearly see that.

he was staring at the picture for so long, analysing every detail, charles eyes were closed, his hand on her jaw, but what max was really focused on was camila. but her face could hardly be seen. maybe it was a mistake? maybe charles was kissing another woman?

max began to search through his contacts, landing on 'carmen roberts: work' which was really just camila, but max was afraid that his father would find his phone, seeing camila's name in his contacts.

max almost thought about calling her, was that a good idea? maybe he should just text her.

but while max sat in bed, contemplating whether he'd message camila, she was currently on a flight to madrid, the flight was about 2 hours.

camila's phone buzzed, meghan was messaging her.

a photo of charles kissing her, followed by the message of, 'camila, is this you?' had been sent by her pr manager.

her heart dropped.

and instead of her first thought being about what she was going to do, or what she was feeling, her mind went straight to max. as much as she wished it didn't, he was impossible to erase from her mind, it was so frustrating.

as camila looked closely at the photo, it was difficult to tell whether it was her or not, and if she had just denied it, surely everyone would believe her.

so that was what she was going to do. deny. to everyone. she had to.

so she responded to meghan's message; 'hi meg, no, this isn't me. do people think it is?'

her blood ran cold as she just so effortlessly lied. she hated lying.

soon after the message was sent, meg quickly responded; 'a lot of people on social media think it is you, there's been a lot of negative comments. we will send the message out there that it isn't you and i'll contact charles team. hope you're doing well.'

after sending a quick thank you message to meg, camila instantly found herself opening social media, she knew she shouldn't, but she couldn't help being curious.

her instagram was filled with comments on her posts, slut-shaming and ridiculing her.

but instead of feeling sad, camila got mad. mad at the world, but especially, she was mad at charles. if he had never kissed her, none of it would have happened, he violated her space, but most of all, he got angry when she had rejected him. there were suddenly so many red flags she wish she had seen sooner.