Style // 𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙇𝙚𝙘𝙡𝙚𝙧𝙘

30.

Saturday

8am. 4 hours to go until the final practice session before qualifying. Outside, the world has already woken up, preparing for the second day of the weekend. Media teams rushing about in papaya, red, navy, all kinds of colours to reach their teams in time. The day is moments away from starting, but my mind is elsewhere.

I sigh, rolling onto my shoulder and reaching for my phone on the bedside table. What's the time difference between Japan and Monaco? It's only a couple of hours, right? Stella's got to be awake. Unless she went out out with Mark and his friends, then she might be hung over. My eyes narrow as the brightness blinds me, struggling through the blurriness to FaceTime her.

The phone buzzes once, then twice, then three times. I start giving up by the fourth, then Stella finally picks up. She lays in the pitch black, scowling at the phone; I forgot she isn't a morning bird.

"What." She demands, rubbing her eyes.

"I need to talk to you." I whisper, trying to look around her room. "What time is it for you?"

"It's midnight, Emma." Stella scoffs, scowling at me like an angry child.

"Oh." Ok, maybe a bit more than a couple of hours.

"It doesn't matter, I'm up now." She sighs, her duvet shuffling around as she adjusts. "How did the talk with Charles go, did you put him in his place?"

My face contorts with concern, my teeth gritting against each other. Hesitantly, I lift my phone up, just about high enough for Stella to see the Ferrari driver led behind me. Only his shoulders are visible, the rest of him hidden under the hotel's thin sheets that barely provide us warmth. The hair on the back of his head is flattened, contrasting the tangled pieces on the top. He's sound asleep with his back to me, unaware that he needs to be up for practice soon. Also, totally unaware that the woman that hates him most in the world, is watching him through her phone.

"It's not worth getting mad at you, this type of shit shouldn't surprise me by now." Stella groans, rolling her eyes. "Right, what do you want to talk about, did you not use protection or something?"

"Stella!" I hiss, pulling my phone closer to me and lowering the volume. "No, it wasn't that!"

"Well tell me then, you're leaving me on a cliff hanger!"

I sigh, looking over my shoulder to check that Charles is still fast asleep. He seems like he's out like a light, but what if he's faking it? Or he wakes up during our conversation?

"Emma-"

"I want to confront him about Charlotte." I spit out, looking back to my phone. "Do you think it's a good idea?"

Stella looks at something behind her phone in thought, pursing her lips together. "As long as you're prepared for him to hurt you again."

"We've split up so many times before, he won't hurt-"

"He's never cheated on you though." Stella interrupts, still looking away. "And what are you going to say if he asks about Elliot?"

I haven't spoke to Elliot at all since I've been away. Neither of us have text one another. Did our date not go as well as I thought? "How is Elliot?"

"A new case came up, him and Mark have been all over it." Stella explains, rubbing her face tiredly, again. "Look, I need some sleep, tell me how it goes if you do talk to him about it, ok?"

"Alright."

"And don't sleep with him again, that never works." Stella warns, pointing a finger at the camera.

"You do that a lot." I mimic her finger pointing, smirking at her.

"Yeah, I wonder why." Stella implies, raising her eyebrows at me. "Chat to you later, goodnight."

"Night."

Just as the phone call ends, Charles' alarm on his phone goes off on the other side of the room. It's almost perfect timing; I swiftly place my phone back on the bedside table, pretending that I've been woken up by his alarm. The bed shifts as the weight on the other side lifts, half of the covers landing on me as he throws them off. I look over my shoulder, watching him shuffle to his phone and frantically turn it off.

"Shit, sorry Em." Charles apologises once he sees me awake. "I tried to turn it off."

"It's ok, I should probably get up anyway." I yawn, pushing myself to sit up.

Despite us barely being awake together for mere seconds, I can feel the question almost drooling off my tongue, waiting rather impatiently to come out. The hesitation and nerves pent up inside me sparks to life, and I can feel my eyes zoning out as I mentally leave the room. I never saw Charles and Charlotte's kiss as cheating, I've only just processed those words that Stella said. But, if that's cheating, then mine and Elliot's kiss was cheating.

Fuck it. "Hey, can I talk to you, about last night?"

His reaction is delayed, still half awake after quickly springing out of bed. He simply stares at me as he runs a hand through his hair, then groans to himself as he perches on the corner of the bed.

"Ok."

"Umm-" How do I even word this. "I heard that you've been out and about with some other girl."

Charles stares at me, his expression totally blank. His eyes, besides the odd blink in thought, give away no hints of what's going on inside his head. I'm regretting even asking in the first place, we both have to live with his answer for the rest of the weekend-

"Yeah, it's true." Charles nods, looking down at his knees. "Me and Charlotte are back on talking terms now."

It didn't sting. Even though he told me less than 12 hours ago that he brought me to Japan to show how much he 'likes' me, it doesn't hurt. I don't know how it feels. Numb. Numb is a good word. No thoughts, no racing heart, no shallow breathing. Just, nothing. Stupidity, maybe? The fact that I believed we could make it work this time around? Guilt, as well. For Charlotte, not because of Elliot. I should've found a way to tell her, or start finding a way, but I don't want to.

"But." Charles tries to say something else, to try and save himself. "I can't stop thinking about us, me and you."

I hum, looking down at my lap as I think about a response. A lie, in fact. "I've been there a few times."

"That's nice to hear, really." Charles says, getting off the bed and making his way to my side. "Thanks for understanding."

He leans forward, giving me a kiss on the forehead. "I've got to go get ready for practice, I'll see you later?"

"Sure."

Great.