Style // 𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙇𝙚𝙘𝙡𝙚𝙧𝙘

15.

Monday

The crisp air of another October morning sweeps through my hair, and part of me wishes it could cut right through to my head as well. My mind is flooded with anxiety as I approach the building complex my surgery is in, it's shadow lurking over me as I get closer to the door. I'm never nervous for work, even on my first day as a hygienist when I didn't have a mentor to turn to. But today feels different. Off. All because of everything that happened this weekend.

Stella went back to Mark's place on Friday, and never came home. She's not dead, thankfully, but I've heard almost nothing from her. Complete radio silence. A few texts a day was all I got, saying that she's staying at Mark's again and I don't have to wait up for her. The only good thing about Stella's lack of presence this weekend is that she doesn't know anything about me going home with Charles. I'm hoping that she was too blackout drunk to remember Charles was at Jimmy'z that night, or Mark somehow taken her mind off of it!

I storm through the lobby, keeping my eyes dead on the lift. I bash the button to the surgery's floor, watching as the metal doors cage me in. What the hell am I doing? I'm stressing over something I've done a hundred times over, I know how to handle this by now? God sake Emma, get a grip woman? There's worse cases to be in right now, like, I don't know, stuck in a lift? Let's not jinx that. I could be drowning right now, or kidnapped, or in a plane falling out the sky! An on-off relationship is nothing compared to that.

The whiff of cleaning and dental products snaps me back to reality as the elevator doors open, like stage doors revealing a celebrity judge, just not as exciting. Obviously. Anyway! In the reception, a small group of nurses hang around with the cheery receptionists, all of them looking my way. I greet them all as I walk through, making my way to the staff room as calmly as possible.

"Bonjour!" I wave, pretending like nothing is going on inside my head. "Comment allons-nous tous?"

"Bien, merci!" A few reply, whilst the others stay in their conversations.

The untroubled smile on my face washes off as soon as I'm in the staff room, another teeny tiny problem popping up in my mind. Like a reminder. What is it, you ask? My inability to speak French fluently, whilst working in a mainly French-speaking principality. The receptionists are kind enough to book me in with patients who can speak English, but it doesn't feel right. It feels painfully entitled to make someone speak a different language whilst in their home country. I'm trying my best to learn it!

I pull my phone from my pocket as I open my locker, using the door to hide. The owner hates spotting people on their phones, unless it's lunchtime. Even though I'm not actually working now, he'd still be disappointed to see me using it. I check my notifications as I empty the rest of my pockets, getting ready to change into my scrubs.

Charles
Morning x

Unknown Number *Maybe: Elliot*
Hey, it's Elliot :)
I got your number off of Mark and Stella, I should've asked you for it on Friday
Sorry I didn't see when you left that night

Stella
Emma wait
Emma pick up your phone
Emma I'm right behind you hold the door
Emma
Emma
Emma
Nevermind
Ignorant bitch

Elliot, another new problem! Stella probably thinks I spent my night with him, as she banned me from going anywhere near Charles. Honestly, Stella made it sound like she put a restraining order down for the night. Does Elliot remember that I ditched him Friday night? In my defence, I didn't choose to leave. I was pulled out the door whilst Elliot was in the bathroom, Charles was waiting for him to leave my side. He'd understand that, right? An F1 driver pulling me out the club; sounds believable, right?