«I should not be left to my own devices, they come with prices and vices, I end up in crisis...tale as old as time.»
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Cassandra rolled on her back and groaned in pain at the insane headache she was feeling. When she said she was aware she needed to deal with her issues, Cassandra never specified how she would deal with them. Obviously getting shitfaced at a random pub was way cheaper than a bunch of therapy sessions, and way more enjoyable in her opinion. Well, enjoyable if she didn't count the aftermath.
Still...cheaper than therapy.
She tried to open her eyes, but immediately regretted it and squeezed them shut to avoid the blinding light coming from the big window in her room. Making sure the curtains were closed was a sidenote she'd save in her brain for another time. At the moment, her mind was focusing on how Abigail would probably murder her, and the number of missed calls and text messages from her best friend that were expecting her when she checked her phone. It was very nice of Abigail to care for her, Cassandra appreciated that even if sometimes it felt a bit suffocating.
Her friend had only good intentions.
"Fuck." Cassandra growled in pain and rubbed her temple.
Opening one eye, or trying to, she spotted the mess in her room. There were clothes everywhere, empty bottles of whatever she was drinking last night, and a cigarette butt next to an empty little plastic bag; she had gone all in the night before. The particular open food container on the floor caught her attention, and she wondered at what point of the night she had stopped to buy food, and then the simple sight of it made her stomach churn. She placed a hand over her mouth, trying to swallow the need to throw up. It worked for a few seconds before it was too much and she felt the acid taste in her throat.
She almost stumbled but managed to get out of bed and ran straight to the bathroom. It didn't even give her enough time to hold her hair properly before she found herself throwing her guts up inside the toilette. Cassandra grimaced at the weird mix of flavours and the disgusting smell. Sometimes she did wonder why she did that to herself, but it was mostly when half her head was deep inside the toilette.
After dry-heaving one last time to make sure that was all she had left to let out, Cassandra remained seated on the bathroom floor. There was something so poetically depressing about the scene, she didn't even want to imagine how she looked like.
The sudden and loud noise of her phone ringing somewhere from the bedroom was the only thing capable of snapping her out of it. She hesitantly stood from the floor, flushed the toilette and washed her mouth before dragging her feet back to where the noise was coming from. A loud groan escaped her lips again at the reminder of her headache and nausea. It was bad, it felt so bad.
She fiddled with the sheets until she finally found her phone, her brows furrowed when she read Gareth's name — he was a coworker, or ex-coworker, actually, a friend — on the screen. In all fairness, it was always her best friend Abigail the one who called to make sure she hadn't died.
"What do you want?" She plopped down on the bed and took a deep breath. Her eyes felt heavy, they could barely remain open and it was taking a lot of effort from her to stay awake.
Her friend snorted in a mocking way. She grimaced at the sound. "Good morning to you too, beautiful. Or should I say...good mourning?" Cassandra rolled her eyes at the poor attempt at a joke. "I'm assuming you're a bit hungover. I mean, you're not a ray of sunshine but you're way nicer when you're sober."
"I feel like shit."
"I can tell." Gareth chuckled. At least one of them was having fun. "Abigail called me, she's worried about you. Not really surprising."
Of course, Abigail would call him, she thought. It was very sweet, really, in a somehow annoying way. She understood her reasons to care though, and should probably behave better to stop her friend from dying at a young age.
"She thinks I'm going to kill myself while she's in Manchester visiting her parents. I mean, she might not be too far off because waking up in Milton Keynes every day is reason enough to feel suicidal, but I'm still alive, am I not?" Barely alive, the voice in her head reminded her. She smiled nonetheless. "I'm okay. It's just—" Cassandra bit her lip and stopped herself from talking further. Memories of blue eyes and cold hands flooded her mind.
It was pathetic.
"What is it?" Gareth asked. He didn't push, but he did sound curious. Unlike Abigail, he didn't tend to get too psychological on her. Which Cassandra appreciated.
"Stupid stuff, don't worry." She simply said. It was easier than explaining the whole thing. "And you don't have to follow her in all her concerns, by the way. Abigail can be a bit of a mother sometimes, and I know you're far from having a fraternal side."
Gareth loudly cackled. "I do care about you, more than you think." His words were of assurance. Cassandra knew it. "Also, I needed to talk to you. Hans wants you to write an article for him."
That perked her attention. Cassandra frowned and sat straight on the bed. Her ex-boss, Hans — there weren't enough insults in the English language for her to truly describe her feelings for him — hated her more than she could ever hate herself. It was a bit funny because the feeling was clearly mutual.
"He fired me." She reminded him.
"He fired you because you hooked up with his assistant. Yeah, I remember." It wasn't even that bad. Nowhere in the contract did it say work relationships were forbidden. "He called me today and asked if I could talk to you. Abigail thinks this could be a good distraction for you." He'd told Abigail, of course.
"Abigail would send me to write the weekly horoscope just to get me out of this insufferable block. Her opinion is biased." It still felt weird for her the idea of Hans wanting to work with her again. That man despised her guts.
"Look, it might be a good shot, and I agree that it can help with the blocking situation too. He'll pay you as an independent writer if you decide to take the job." Gareth explained more in detail.
Cassandra looked around the room. The mess was still there, and it would still be there unless she cleaned it. Could that be a good metaphor for her life? Perhaps she could use a distraction from all that, or try to stay away from her messy ways for a few days.
She sighed. "What is it about?" Her voice sounded nonchalant, trying not to give away any possible interest in the job.
"Sports. Well, a particular one." Because he knew her well enough, Cassandra was aware deep down that he was enjoying the situation. The hilarity in his tone betrayed him anyway.
Her face fell. "Do I look like someone who knows about sports? I don't even run, why does he think I know anything about that topic?" She could maybe name Serena Williams, for obvious reasons, but that was as far as she went. "And what do you mean with a particular one? Be specific, Gareth."
"We booked a Formula 1 team for the article, mind you...with a Formula 1 World Champion." He said as if that meant something to her.
"Do you want me to pretend I know what those words mean?" Gareth chuckled.
"Maybe Hans doesn't want a biased opinion, who knows." It wasn't still convincing enough. "And, you were one of his best writers, even if he hates you, that's something no one can take away from you. Maybe your ability to write captivated him again."
Hard doubt about that. "You know I'm extremely narcissistic, don't compliment me." Gareth just made a noise of affirmation at the statement. "I'll think about it, I guess. But thanks for letting me know, if anything I can call Hans to talk about it. Sadly I still have his number."
They kept talking for a minute or two until Gareth had to hang up. He asked her to please take care of herself, and he sounded unusually serious. Cassandra promised she would. Maybe. Someday. She dropped the phone back on the bed and walked over to the nearest mirror she could find.
Staring back at her reflection was no less than painful. Someone could fit an entire wardrobe in the bags under her eyes. God, she looked awful, which was a soft description of her appearance. She pursed her lips, suddenly feeling like she was forgetting something. She had talked with Gareth, although unplanned, that seemed enough to make sure someone knew she was alive. Talking to Abigail was another thing, she knew she had to do it but with Gareth knowing that she was safe and sound, Cassandra could spare herself a few more hours to prepare for Abigail's scolding.
But she was still forgetting something.
Car guy. Blue eyes. Her lips parted.
Sebastian, of course. She remembered. Cassandra walked back and picked up her phone, checking the time. Okay, she had slept more than planned, the guy was probably thinking she fled the country to avoid taking responsibility for the accident. She scrolled through her contacts to find his name and pressed the call button. Maybe he was worried, maybe not. At least she was giving a sign of life.
The tone rang three times and then the call was accepted. Bingo.
"Britta give me a minute— hello?" There were some muffled voices in the background, but nothing clear enough for her to hear.
"Sebastian, hi." Cassandra cringed at her tone. When did she pick the church girl voice? "It's Cassandra. I...accidentally hit your car last night." Okay, she had the decency to feel embarrassed at how that sounded.
Not everything was lost with her. Yay.
"Oh, Cassandra." Even if she couldn't see him, she could hear the smile in his voice. If that even made sense. "Yeah, I remember." He chuckled, because of course, having your car damaged by a complete stranger was funny.
So funny. "Uh just wanted to contact you because yeah, to solve all of that. Do you have time today? Later? Maybe talk with the insurance company. Sign papers that absolve me from anything. Whatever." Cassandra grimaced at her own words and how she was speaking. She was definitely still a bit drunk.
The noise of a door closing and sudden silence in the background were noticeable. "Today? That sounds good, actually. I'm leaving for work tomorrow so it works to get this solved as soon as possible."
"Great." She sighed in relief. Fantastic. One less problem to think about. "Awesome."
"I will contact my insurance company and let you know the details, alright?"
"That sounds good." Cassandra nodded. He can't see you, idiot. "Thank you for being so nice about...this. And again, I'm sorry." She was sorry. Cassandra was perfectly capable of feeling guilt. Who would've thought?
Sebastian clicked his tongue. "It's alright, really. All will be solved."
The goodbye was a bit awkward, but with a promise to stay in contact throughout the day, they bid their farewells. At least she had fucked up with a nice enough guy, and not a complete asshole. That was good.
Now all she had to do was deal with Abigail's scolding. Not even hitting a car sounded as bad as that.
—
"I told you the insurance would cover it." Sebastian smiled at her and softly nudged her with his elbow. The guy was touchy, she had noticed that.
Cassandra returned the smile, although the stretch felt incredibly awkward. One of the employees from the insurance company walked along with them, checking some of the papers but mostly ignoring them and their interactions. She didn't know if it was his charm or whatever, but he'd gotten everything solved rather fast.
She appreciated that.
"I still needed to take responsibility for the damages. Morality and all that, you know." Sebastian huffed and then followed it with a chuckle. Maybe he knew a thing or two about morality. Or maybe not. Her phone started going off in her hand before he could even try to retort, Cassandra sighed and looked at it to see who was the caller. "Sorry, just give me a moment." She excused herself as they stopped walking. Sebastian nodded and turned his attention to the insurance guy. "Hello." Cassandra bit her lip and proceeded to receive Abigail's rambling. She was just listening. "Yeah, I know. I had to take care of the car situation I told you about, but I'm almost on my way back home." Telling Abigail about her car incident had been a trip. Her friend continued talking, something about Cassandra not taking a detour on her way home, please just get to the flat safe and sound. "Sure, don't worry. I'm going straight home, I promise. Me too, Abigail."
When Abigail finally stopped all her maundering, Cassandra took the opportunity to finish the call. She returned her attention back to Sebastian and the car insurance guy. The guy was looking at him rather weirdly. Was she missing something?
"Okay, so we're good, right?" Cassandra asked, interrupting them.
Sebastian raised both eyebrows, his eyes were so expressive she had noticed. "Huh?" Cassandra pointed at the paperwork on the insurance guy's hands — his name was Carl, or Michael, something like that. She hadn't paid enough attention. "Oh yeah, yeah. We're good. I won't sue you." Sebastian joked, his dopey smile making him seem unrealistically fun.
Cassandra tilted her head. She was far from being a saint, and in other less fucked up circumstances, she would've probably tried to flirt her way out of the issue. What could she say? Blue eyes and blonde hair worked on her. And the accent, that was a plus as well.
"Look, again I'm sorry for hitting your car, and also I didn't notice yesterday how expensive your car is, so that's a double sorry." It was very expensive. She was grateful she didn't note that the night before. "I do have to say your parking skills are a bit shitty, sorry." She wasn't sorry at all.
The insurance guy looked at her in disbelief, like she just insulted him. Sebastian on the other hand just chuckled and gnawed on his lip, apparently trying his best not to smile too much. He also looked rather impressed and surprised at her confession, and Cassandra wondered if no one ever had critiqued his parking skills before.
"I have shitty parking skills?" Cassandra nodded in affirmation. Sebastian grinned. "I've heard a fair amount of criticism about my driving, never about my parking skills though." He was clearly amused by it, so that was a good sign that she was behaving like a nice human being. "I'll make sure to practice my parking."
"Your car will be grateful."
Sebastian pursed his lips. "I'll take that into account, then." His lips tugged into a mischievous smile. "Everything alright?" He asked the insurance guy.
This one pushed his glasses into place and nodded. "This is for you." He handed Cassandra a paper, she didn't even look at it, just folded it. "And we logged everything in the system for you." Sebastian nodded in acknowledgement. "If you don't need anything else...it's always a pleasure to receive you here." The guy told Sebastian and extended his hand, which he politely shook. "Miss." All Cassandra received was a nod, no pleasantries or anything. She returned the nod.
Both watched as the guy disappeared back into his office. When the door closed, Sebastian turned to her. "Do you need a ride?"
"I brought my car, intact, but thank you." Cassandra awkwardly looked around. "It wasn't a pleasure to hit your car, but I'm glad we could solve this." If either Abigail or Gareth was around, they would be taking the piss out of her at her poor attempts to look as polite as she could.
"Well, it was nice to meet you, Cassandra. Despite the whole car-hitting thing." It was still surprising for her how unconcerned he had acted throughout the whole thing. Someone else would've probably yelled at her the moment the accident happened in the first place.
Sebastian offered to walk her to her car, purely out of politeness, she accepted because he seemed like he would do it anyway. Their farewell was a bit awkward, mostly due to Cassandra's lack of life training for those kinds of situations. That was probably the first time a guy had walked her to her car without fucking her before. In the end, she just waved her hand at him, he smiled, and she took off.
Now she could check that out of the list of things to worry about. If that list even existed anyway.
She didn't even try to stop anywhere, for the first time really trying to avoid another miserable morning, and soon enough she was arriving at her flat. When she opened the door, the sight of an empty space received her. She missed Abigail. She could be a bit overprotective and overdramatic, but nothing beat the nights when she arrived home and her friend waited for her with open arms, ready to listen to her even if that secured her the possibility of getting some warning glares.
Cassandra dragged her feet to the biggest couch and basically plopped down with a sigh. Her hands rummaged in her pockets until she found her phone, immediately dialling Abigail's number. Her friend didn't take long to pick up the call, Cassandra's lips tugged into a smile at the sound of Abigail's calmer voice.
No more rambling. That was good.
"I made it home, in case you wanted to know." Abigail chuckled. "How is it going over there in Manchester?"
"Normal, as always. Bit boring, can't wait to be back home." Yeah because Milton Keynes is a dream, Cassandra thought. "How did the car situation go?"
"Bit boring." She scrunched her nose and imitated Abigail's accent. "No, it was fine. The guy was nice and everything got solved, so yay."
"That's good! You always get lucky with guys." Abigail joked. Cassandra snorted and shook her head. "Anything else you might want to talk about?" One good thing about being so close to Abigail was that she already knew her ways, and the girl was just always full of curiosity.
Cassandra chewed on her thumb. "Gareth told you, right." She sighed.
"I think it's a good idea." Her tone was hopeful and optimistic, and honestly, Cassandra couldn't blame her. Abigail was probably begging for her to find a distraction so she would stop arriving home at 4:00 am and waking up completely hungover and with less will to live as each day passed by. "I know working again with Hans isn't ideal, but this is a good opportunity."
It was. Not only because she needed to write something, distract herself and avoid getting rusty, but she also couldn't live out of her dead father's book royalties forever. It was good money but it made Cassandra feel guilty as hell.
"You're not wrong." Cassandra relaxed on the couch. "It is a good opportunity."
"Did Gareth give you any more details?"
Cassandra tried to recall their conversation in her head. It was surprising she could remember what he'd said. "Something about sports, uh..." She squeezed her eyes shut. The name was on the tip of her tongue. "Formula 1 or something like that, they got an interview with one of the teams for the article."
Abigail gasped loudly. "That's awesome!" Was it? Cassandra didn't even know how big it was. "Who are the guys? I mean, the team, you know."
"I don't know." She shrugged involuntarily. "He didn't mention any names."
"I know one of the teams is based in Milton Keynes, but I doubt your arsehole of a boss can pull something like that out of his sleeve." Trust Abigail to know a little bit of everything. "But that sounds more than interesting, Cass. Come on, Formula 1? That's rich."
It would be if she knew what Formula 1 was in the first place. "I guess, I don't know. Gail, I know shit about that." Cassandra snorted, resting her head on the back of the couch.
"You don't always have to know everything, I think you'd do great." Her reassuring words were nice because Cassandra knew she meant it. "You should talk to Hans, get more info about it, and maybe consider doing it."
"You're right." As always. Out of the two of them, Abigail was the one down-to-earth who made the correct decisions most of the time. "I will call Hans and see what the whole buzz is all about. Good distraction, right?"
Abigail was probably smiling. "Good distraction." She confirmed.
The conversation continued for a bit more, mostly Abigail talking about her parents and what she had been doing in Manchester. Gladly, she was coming back to Milton Keynes in a couple of days, because although Cassandra never admitted it out loud, she didn't enjoy the loneliness as much as some people thought. When they bid their farewells, Cassandra dragged herself to her room, she groaned at the mess, again, but decided that was something for another time when she didn't feel so battered.
Her eyes spotted the laptop on her desk, and for a moment, she was tempted to dig a little to find more information about what was keeping Hans awake from that article. The tiredness in her body whatsoever kept her from even walking toward the desk, that also could be something for another day. Or for Hans to tell her more. Cassandra made a mental note to call him first thing in the morning to get it over with and see if it was worth the pain of working with him again.
She definitely did need to do something. Even if she didn't admit it, Cassandra didn't want her career to go down the drain at only 25 years old. That was too soon to reach her prime or whatever.
The worst that could happen was dealing with Hans again, and she could do that. Plus, that perverted side of her really was trying to assure her that she could bag herself a driver. Probably. Maybe.
It could be fun, Cassandra mentally told herself. Or not.
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a/n: i have this entire story mapped with little snippets but i don't know how to properly write it sdjfhdfs so let's see how it goes
if you see too many taylor swift's lyrics is because this is entirely inspired by midnights...anyways