Red Hot! (Sebastian Vettel)

43. Walking Away

Seb opened his eyes. The sunlight was shining through a gap in the curtains. He groaned as his head started pounding. His mouth felt as dry as sandpaper and all he wanted to do was pass out so he didn't have to live through this pain. His bladder however had other ideas.

He swung his feet off of the bed and onto the floor. It was then that he realised he wasn't in his own hotel room. Where the fuck was he? And how the fuck did he get here?

He glanced around the room, looking for clues to where he was. Opening the curtains slightly, he winced as the bright sunshine hurt his still sensitive eyes. From the view outside the window he surmised he was at least in the right hotel.

"Jesus Christ Sebastian," he muttered. Then he groaned loudly as memories of the night before began to filter back into his mind. The blonde woman that had been draping herself all over him. Zoe? Zara? Something beginning with a Z. What had he done? Surely he hadn't gone back to her room? He was still wearing his boxers so at least he hadn't....

He breathed a sigh of relief as he spotted an Aston Martin team shirt draped on the back of a chair. It was one of the teams' room. "Breathe Sebastian, breathe," he told himself.

He went into the bathroom. After relieving his bladder, he splashed some cold water on his face. Christ, he was never drinking again. Why had he thought it was a good idea to drink so much? He had a flight later!

Then he remembered why he had drank so much. Libby. Was this her room? Had he drunk texted her? He heard the main door open and close. The occupant had returned.

"Seb? You alright mate?" came the very familiar voice of Antti. Seb breathed a sigh of relief.

"Dying," he called out in reply.

"No sympathy. You're gonna have to do extra workouts to get all that booze out of your system."

Seb walked back out into the bedroom. "I'm doing fuck all right now. My head is killing me. You got any water? Any paracetamol?"

"Mini fridge." Antti took a box of tablets out of his backpack and chucked them to Seb.

"Thanks. How did I even get here?" He took a bottle of water out of the mini fridge and took two painkillers. 

"I got a call from Mikey at 2 am to come and collect you. You were in a right mess. He told me if I didn't come and get you it was going to be a PR nightmare. So I got out of my nice comfy bed and came to get you to save Britta from extra work. Then it turns out you lost your room key so I brought you here where you stole my nice comfy bed and I ended up on the not so comfy sofa. Britta has sorted you out a new room key."

"I'm so sorry Antti. Thank you. I don't remember much at all. It was all a bit....wild."

"Yeah so I gather," the Finn said dryly. "All I can say is avoid Britta at all costs. She's after your blood."

"I guess she didn't like being woke up to sort a key out?"

"Oh Sebastian. You have no idea do you?"

"About what?"

"Seems Mikey's call came just a little bit too late to prevent a PR nightmare."

"What the fuck did I do?"  Antti sat down and shook his head.

"You're an idiot. In all my years working with you I've never seen you behave like that...."

"Antti tell me. I didn't strip naked or anything like that?"

"Not quite." He took his phone out and began tapping away. Then he handed it to Seb.

Seb looked at the screen and groaned loudly as he saw a series of photos from the club. The first showed him drinking champagne straight from the bottle. The second showed him on the dancefloor surrounded by a group of young, beautiful women, his shirt hanging open. The third he had a blonde woman draped all over him. Zola, that was it! The fourth picture however had him feeling like the biggest prick on earth. In it he was kissing Zola.