apocalypse | charles leclerc ✓

chapter 16 | the ugly truth

«Sobbing with your head in your hands, ain't that the way shit always ends?»

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No matter how beautiful, successful, or whatever, someone was, the time for a reality check would come. Not everything was picture-perfect. That was the ugly truth. And her father, in spite of how frustrating admitting it could be, was right sometimes. If she thought she had it all before, this would be a good time for her to admit perhaps she really didn't.

The bitter taste rose up her throat, spreading all over her mouth. She could blame it on the fact she'd just woken up if she hadn't been there a few times since last year. Swallowing hard, she scrolled through every single notification, as if that was Hades' personal punishment for her to witness.

No, it wasn't new. By now she should've been used to the bi-monthly rumour about Charles cheating on her. But it had never become so nauseatingly unbearable before. And it wasn't only her boyfriend because apparently, after Monaco, half of those guys decided to go on a cheating spree. She wondered if she was the only one having an awful moment with herself, enclosed in a hotel room, or if the other girls went through something similar.

How could one of the best days of her life turn into a shitshow in a matter of a six-hour timezone difference? That wasn't how her time in New York should have come close to being. Nobody, not even her boyfriend, had the right to ruin that for her. Sloane clenched her jaw. Gaze pinned on the screen.

There were different things being said and shown. Side-by-side comparisons of her own pictures to another girl, the kind of pretty girl who attended the after parties in Monaco, and everywhere else really. Some said Charles upgraded while others mentioned the opposite — gross, she thought with disgust, no one had the right to speak about her or any other girl that way. About what an upgrade or downgrade was. They weren't objects, they were real people. Blurry pictures of dancing bodies in clubs. There were also posts implying how unsurprising it was because it truly shouldn't stun anyone that Charles would consider cheating on her.

It wasn't the first one and it wouldn't be the last.

It had happened before, yes, but this time it was worse, or the reality settled for her because she was alone, and Charles didn't stand in front of her repeating how she had to ignore what others said. It never came to her mind how it wasn't healthy for it to be that way. That a relationship shouldn't hold so much baggage.

She drew her phone away, burying it under the pillow. This was the kind of garbage her mind constantly replayed when it decided to remind her that she did not trust Charles as much as she tried to convince herself she did.

The thing — phone ugh — loudly went off from where she'd hidden it. It was her alarm. She jolted, eyes drifting to the pillow and boring holes into it as if the simple object was her worst enemy. She hesitated on whether grabbing the phone back and facing the screen would be a good idea or not, but the alarm noise dug into her brain like a woodpecker's beak against a tree.

The alarm message read: Agency day!! (party hat and heart emojis included). How depressing. She nearly threw the device to the other side of the room, annoyed with it and herself. And Charles. And everybody else, in all honesty.

There wasn't enough time for impulsive reactions because, after a couple of minutes, her human alarm made her presence known. The screen flashed Vivianne's name. An incoming call from her. Sloane composed herself, took a deep breath and answered the call.

"Just calling to corroborate you're awake, I know you love to ignore your alarm. Remember we have to leave at eight, so please don't take too much time getting ready. Traffic in this city is terrible. We have to get used to it." Vivianne huffed.