«And if you wake up feeling happy, you're doing it wrong, you should be in cold water with your best dress on.»
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Sloane groaned, everything felt so heavy she couldn't even open her eyes. There were vague memories from the night before: a party, a lot of drinks, some questionable substances — models just loved those — then her manager looking angry...and a guy. That was all it took for her to find some will and force herself to open her eyes. The first thing she saw was the ceiling and that was definitely not her father's flat in Monaco.
Turning her head slowly to the side, and with a bit of reluctance, the hopes that the spot next to her on the bed would be empty suffered a painful death, because just as she should've suspected, there was someone there. A back of course. She held the sheets tighter against her chest and propped on one of her elbows to make sure she could take a look at the person sleeping next to her, and then it clicked.
Her eyes flew wide open. The pain in her head was killing her, but the realisation was stronger than anything else. "Oh fuck." It came out as a low whisper, even barely audible to herself.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Even in her less lucid state, she could recognise the man laying in bed with her. Her hand covered her mouth, and her gaze stayed glued to him. The guy sleeping deeply and peacefully. The memories kept pouring back into her brain like a cascade of bad decisions. From the beginning to the end. It was like she could recall the exact moment when the decision was taken. Of fucking course.
See, Sloane wasn't one for regrets. Surely she'd had some debatable experiences with men, but it had never taken enough from her to get her to regret them. Now there was a difference between hooking up with her usual prospects to doing so with someone who was definitely not on her list of options. For various freaking reasons.
Reason number one: that someone was her ex-boyfriend's friend slash colleague. Or whatever.
Of all people in the world she just had to fall into bed with none other than Max Verstappen. The joke wrote itself.
She took one last look at him, just to make sure she wasn't completely going insane and losing her mind, but it was very real and she was there, naked in what she assumed was his bed. It couldn't get any worse. She pulled the sheets off, and tip-toed her way out of bed and the room, picking up her discarded clothes on the way out.
Sloane zipped her dress back on, and carefully grabbed her boots. The term walk of shame was short for what she was feeling at the moment. She peeked at the open door of his room one last time before sneaking out of his loft, as quietly as she could. Once she was out and in the empty corridor, Sloane breathed out. It felt shaky. No, she was quite literally shaking. Her lower lip was trembling.
With clumsy hands, she pulled out her phone. There were a bunch of missed calls from her manager Vivianne...and missed calls from Aurora, as well as some texts from her. Well, at least her best friend could not judge her for that one. Not that it would be disclosed any time soon.
The sound of footsteps in the corridor startled her. Sloane locked her phone and lowered her head, making her way to the elevator with quick steps. The boots were still hanging from her hand, she didn't even want to assess just how obvious she looked. She breathed a sigh of relief once her back hit the cold metal of the elevator, and the doors closed. She hit the button to the lobby multiple times in the act of desperation.
Quickly putting her boots back on, and smothering her dress and hair, Sloane straightened up, wishing that would be enough to make her look a bit more decent. Her gaze drifted multiple times to the phone in her hand until the clink from the elevator distracted her from that.
"Bonjour." The security guy in the lobby greeted her.
Sloane avoided making eye contact and just awkwardly waved her hand, resisting the urge to run out of the building and just making her way out as fast as she could. The sun hit her face and she grimaced feeling uncomfortable. God, she needed to sleep for a whole day to recover not only from her hangover but also her dignity. She looked around trying to spot a taxi or something, but there was nothing nearby, taking one more deep breath, she opted to start walking, eventually, she would get home. To Aurora.
Goddamn it.
Her feet were killing her, but beauty was pain or whatever people said. Sloane avoided weird stares from people who jogged past her. Okay, she knew what she looked like. She pulled her short dress down just in case, it didn't need to be more obvious. It was her early twenties all over again. A little bit more fucked up this time. What happened to staying away from Formula 1 and its drivers? So much effort.
She stopped dead in her tracks when she caught sight from the corner of her eye of her reflection in one of the big glass windows of a store. She pressed her lips together trying not to groan at the image in front of her. There was a rather noticeable hickey on her neck, and she never pegged Max as someone who would do that, but then again she shouldn't have fallen into bed with him in the first place.
Failing miserably, she tried to cover the hickey with her hair but it kept flying away. Sloane resumed her walk with resignation.
There were a couple more seconds of self-reflection and internal scolding until her phone started buzzing. She blinked and pulled the device, it was her manager Vivianne. Sloane sighed and took the call because she didn't want her manager to lose her mind. Vivianne wasn't cute when she was angry.
"You finally answer the damn phone," Vivianne told her, no greeting or anything. Straight to business. "Sloane, I was worried."
"I'm alright. The moneymaker's alright." She said as a joke, knowing Vivianne would know she meant her face.
Vivianne sighed. She sounded exhausted. "Where are you? Are you back home yet? You have a shoot in two days, Sloane. You can't just go around—"
"Going back home right now." She cut her off before her rambling continued. "I'll let you know when I'm safe and sound, Vivianne. Do not worry. I'm serious." She spotted a taxi from the distance and silently thanked the heavens for it. "I have to leave you, but I won't ghost again. Promise."
Her manager hesitantly bid her farewell as Sloane rushed to the taxi. The driver eyed her for a second or two before nodding and taking her address. She plopped onto the back seats and heaved a sigh. It felt like she had gone to hell and back to earth in a span of thirty minutes or more. If anyone found out about her hookup with Max, she would never hear the end of it, and the last thing she needed was her name rolling around social media, not after everything between Aurora and Charles exploded. Zandvoort had been hell the previous year, and nothing had happened back then.
Sloane wanted to be swallowed by the earth. Maybe she could disappear into the mountains for a while. That sounded like a good idea.
The taxi driver snapped her out of her reverie when they arrived at her complex. She had forgotten how expensive taxis in Monaco were, but she managed. The walk-in to her complex was almost as embarrassing as the walk-out from Max's place but avoiding any kind of attention, she made it to the empty elevator in record time for someone who was wearing the world's most uncomfortable shoes. She prepped herself as the elevator got closer to her floor.
As she stood before her door, Sloane awkwardly placed her hand around her neck, the only solution to cover up the dumb hickey, or the quickest one, and then she knocked twice. Her heart beat fast at the sound of footsteps from the inside.
The door flew wide open and Sloane smiled, feeling strange. Aurora looked at her with tired eyes. "You're alive! I was worried." Her friend frowned immediately, scanning her face. Sloane panicked a bit. "You look incredibly pale. Are you alright?"
She looked down, avoiding her gaze, and chuckled. "I'm fine. Just tired. Long night."
Aurora stepped away so Sloane could walk into the flat. It felt so big still. "Where were you?" Her friend questioned.
For a couple of seconds, she refused to turn around to face her friend again. She did eventually, but only for a second. "I'm so tired, I just want to sleep." She dodged the question and took her shoes off before throwing herself on the big sofa and covering herself with the blanket there. It smelled a lot like Aurora.
Aurora tilted her head. "Okay." She dragged the word. "I was really worried, you told me you'd be back after the event."
Sloane looked away. There were a few flashbacks from the night before. "Nothing happened. Don't worry." She said again and her eyes fluttered close in an attempt to avoid looking at Aurora. She could feel her friend still staring at her though.
"We'll talk when you get some rest." Aurora's voice slowly faltered.
"Aha." Sloane simply said. They wouldn't talk about it. Not at all.
When the place fell into silence, she opened her eyes. Sloane cursed under her breath. It was just another slip with a driver again. Surely nothing could go wrong if she just decided to ignore it.
—
I'm so much happier now that I'm dead...
Sloane blinked at the big TV screen. The whole room was dark, just the light from the television illuminating the whole room. She watched attentively as Rosamund Pike, playing Amy Dunne, described her perfect plan to take revenge on her cheating husband. She thought perhaps her mother could watch that movie. Or maybe not.
She eyed her phone resting on the bedside table and sank further into the bed. It had been buzzing all day, mainly text messages, but she hadn't picked it up. It would get her some scolding from Vivianne, or her parents if they wanted to know she was still breathing — her dad technically had to know, she was living in his flat after all — but she didn't want to know if Max had sent a text, or a DM, or something like that, much less if someone else knew about it. They were drunk. Quite a lot. She didn't know how careful they'd been leaving the event until ending up in his flat. Sloane, you're so fucked. Literally.
Her attention drifted from the movie to the door of her room as it slowly opened, Aurora showing her head just to make sure she hadn't died in her sleep. Once her friend corroborated she was indeed very alive and awake, she slipped into the room, turning the light on as she walked inside. Sloane groaned and closed her eyes. The light still burned everything in her brain.
"Feeling better?" Aurora moved and sat on the end of the bed.
She covered one of her eyes with her palm and opened the other. Her friend was smiling. "What time is it?"
"Late." Aurora simply said. Sloane dropped her hands on each side. Aurora took a quick glance at the movie displayed and then back at her. "I'm getting a bit worried about the number of times you've watched Gone Girl."
"Very funny." She tossed a cushion in her direction, and Aurora caught it and placed it on her lap. "Where's your—Charles, I mean. Is he gone?"
Aurora adverted her gaze, suddenly the movie was interesting for her, and Sloane rolled her eyes. She tried to nudge her friend with her foot, which was unsuccessful, but she did manage to touch her arm at least. Sloane looked at her funnily when she finally turned her attention back to her.
"Yeah, he left." Aurora simply said, and then sighed. Sloane tilted her head. "Is it still weird? For you, that's what I mean."
Sloane shrugged. "As long as you're happy." Her lips curved into a smile. Aurora returned the gesture.
There was a shift suddenly like her friend remembered something, and then she pointed at Sloane with narrowed eyes and everything. It came to her that she was still nursing a very big hickey in her fucking neck, and Aurora wouldn't let that go easily. Sloane pulled the sheets closer to herself, covering up to her chin. Aurora chuckled.
"Are you going to tell me who did that to you?" Her friend raised an eyebrow.
"What?" She feigned confusion.
"The gigantic hickey, Slo. Who did that?" Aurora insisted. She just looked overall amused about the situation. "You know Vivianne is going to kill you, right? When you show up to the next shoot with that on your neck she's going to lose her mind."
"It's fine." Over the years she'd found a few solutions to deal with unwanted marks. Like those for example. "I'll just solve it with a spoon or something, I saw a video about it on social media."
Aurora didn't look surprised. "You know...Charles," Sloane wanted to snort at the way she said his name like he was unmentionable or something. "He said some of the guys, the drivers, were at that event you went to, did you...maybe?"
Sloane felt her stomach turning into knots. The sudden memory of waking up next to Max came back with very clear images. "What? No. Gross, Aurora. I'm done with Formula 1 drivers." She tried to sound as convincing and disgusted as she could. Her friend kept eyeing her. "There was this really cute guy and yeah, the birds and the bees—"
"You're so unserious," Aurora complained. "So that was it? Just some random guy you've never seen before?" Sloane nodded. She thought of Max. Ugh. "And how was it?" Her friend continued with a raised eyebrow.
Her hands fiddled with the sheets. Not that Aurora was one to ask, but Sloane was one to talk. That was the dynamic. If it changed it would be strange. "It was alright. You don't even like hearing about it, come on."
"I was just curious. That thing is huge." Aurora said with a giggle, referring again to the hickey. "I got you some Advil." Her lips tugged into a smile, and her hand squeezed Sloane's leg.
She put a hand on her chest and grinned. "Aurora, mijn engel." She said with endearment. Aurora's face turned a shade of pink, which Sloane didn't understand why and was too tired to ask anyway.
"I'll go get them for you and a glass of water." Her friend pushed from the bed and threw the cushion back at her. Sloane hugged it to her chest.
When Aurora walked past the door, closing it behind her, Sloane discarded the cushion to the floor and made a grab for her phone on the bedside table. Her eyes scanned all the notifications displayed on the screen, and she furrowed her brows. There was a lot from Vivianne, which was logical, then a bunch from her social media accounts — the usual, nothing weird — and even a few messages from her father, those did make her want to roll her eyes. He always apologised to her after her mother called on one of her ramblings swearing to God that her mother was just being dramatic, obviously, she knew all of that was bullshit.
But that wasn't what made her furrow her brows. No, it was the lack of Max Verstappen that made her take on that expression. Not that she believed she was all that, generally, but Sloane expected him to be at least a bit aware of the situation. The same way she was. She suddenly remembered she'd fleed his flat with no such thing as noise, and thought that perhaps he didn't remember the night before. It would be reasonable, she probably wouldn't have remembered if she didn't see him right there sprawled on the bed next to her. Sloane chewed on her lip.
If he didn't remember, then that was good. It is good, she thought. If he did remember and was just acting like nothing happened and ghosting her, well ouch, but she would understand. Either way, it was great. Great. She wouldn't have to deal with it, and that was good. Awesome, really.
The door to the bedroom opened again, and she placed the phone back on the bedside table. Aurora carried Advil and a glass of water in her hands, Sloane smiled at her, reaching with her hands to take them from her. Her friend's gaze attentively watched her as she swallowed two pills and downed them with the entire glass of water. Sloane looked back at her once she was done.
"What?" Sloane asked.
Aurora grabbed the glass back. "Are you sure you'll be alright here in Monaco?" Her brows were slightly furrowed. She did that when she was worried, as Sloane had noticed over the years.
"Of course, I'll be alright. Vivianne's here as well, you know she won't let this happen every week. I have to keep myself in check." She'd been growing in the industry in the past year, and that alone was reason enough to just behave the way she had to behave. Sloane couldn't ruin her whole career that early. "I'll behave." She gave Aurora a charming smile. The ones that always worked. "I won't do anything stupid. I promise." Or won't do anything stupid again, her mind completed the sentence for her.
Her friend kept staring for a few seconds, then let out a resigned sigh. "I worry, you know."
Oh, Sloane knew. "And I appreciate it, really." She smiled. "You have nothing to worry about," Sloane assured.
"Alright. Sorry." Aurora rolled her eyes in a fond way. "I'm a bit too protective sometimes." She was, but it was nice. It was good knowing someone cared for her that way. "Have you eaten something? I could cook or order takeout."
Her mother's words from the night before came to mind. She hadn't eaten anything, mainly because she'd spent most of the day with her cheek pressed to the pillow trying to sleep the hangover off, but she was still thinking about it. Sloane looked at Aurora and pulled a grimace, rubbing her stomach.
"I haven't eaten, but honestly I feel like I'm going to throw up at any minute." She said. Aurora stared. "Seriously. I drank a lot yesterday. Those cocktails should be illegal. I don't know how some of the girls I work with do that all the time." Salma had an abnormal life battery. She was always doing and taking everything.
"You're just getting old," Aurora joked, patting her on the leg.
Sloane narrowed her eyes. "Funny." She said with a sarcastic tone.
Aurora smiled. "Are you sure you don't want to eat? It can be something light. I've gotten better at cooking, ask my mom." She insisted.
She shook her head again. "Seriously, I'm fine. I ate a bunch of appetisers yesterday at the event and it was...something else. You'd think they'd hire expensive catering for all those things but I doubt it." She wrinkled her nose again.
Her friend hesitated for a bit but eventually resigned. "Okay, okay." Aurora stood from the bed. "I'll just be in the living room if you need anything, maybe you should keep sleeping to wear all of it off." Sloane nodded in agreement. "Then you can go back to texting your mysterious guy," Aurora said while walking back to the door.
Sloane groaned, loudly. "That's not—it was a one-time thing. Forget about it!" She pointed a finger in warning.
Aurora raised her hands in the air. "Alright. Keep your secrets, Sloane." And an eyebrow waggle. She groaned again.
When Aurora was out the door, Sloane glanced again at the phone sitting on the bedside table. If she hadn't gotten anything from Max all day, then she could probably forget about it and move on with her life. It didn't happen if both of us don't talk about it, she thought. That was a good solution. She'd stick with that.