Collision [𝗠.𝗩.]

Monaco, December 11th

Someone pray for me. To any god. All of them. - @TotallyNotJess🔒

@TotallyNotJess🔒 what's going on? - @WamesJebb🔒

⸻

MONACO

DECEMBER 11TH

I sigh at the response from James, dropping my face into the soft white pillow. I'm going to have to text him. It's not something to share openly, even on a private social media account.

"Jess?" Max calls out from the bathroom, above the sound of the shower running. Shit. I was going to join him. I raise my head with a groan.

"Gimmie a minute!" I shout back. I'll try to make my conversation with James as short and sweet as possible.

BIGGER LOSER (Me);
Lunch with fucking voldermort

LOSER (James);
OH DEAR GOD
WHY
WHY WOULD YOU AGREE TO IT

Why indeed, I think to myself. I know why, of course. But that doesn't mean James isn't right for questioning my sanity.

BIGGER LOSER (Me);
Max wants me to do it.
We had a chat about it, and some other stuff.
Turns out he's not too pleased with his dad
lately. Mostly Charles and Daniel's doing,
cause they've been telling him for a while now
that it's not right what he's been through as a
kid
Tldr; he's sick of his dad's shit and this is one
of the last straws and basically he told his dad
"fuck off I'm happy with her" which is why
voldermort is now talking mad shit about me

BIGGER LOSER (Me);
And my dad fired shots back. You know he can't
keep his gob shut.
He fired some serious shots.

Jos is lucky it was my dad, because dear lord, my mum can be vindictive. I'm fairly sure she's keeping quiet for the same reason I am: to avoid turning this into an ugly mess. But my dad couldn't ignore the suggestion that I was making connections.

LOSER (James);
What did he say???

BIGGER LOSER (Me);
Let me get the article.
"My daughter has already broken a record for
most points in a rookie season, and she didn't
even finish the full season. Her talent cannot be
denied or undermined by bitter old men who
have fewer points over more years— and fewer
trophies"

LOSER (James);
HOLY
SHIT
GODDAMN, RICHARD
GODDAMN

I have to count my lucky stars that my dad likely won't have a reason to come face-to-face with him any time soon. Because I'm pretty sure he'd be tempted to throw hands. My dad isn't a violent man by nature, but he is quick to jump into arguments if he thinks someone needs to be pulled down a peg or two.

And he sure as shit won't apologise for what he's said, unless it causes any problems for me.

"Jess?"

Oh shit— Shower.

I get into the car - Max's deep grey Aston Martin - and try to control my nerves. My hands have a mild tremble to them. My mind wants me to be aware of anything and everything my eyes catch sight of. My chest feels heavy but light.