Unreliable

17 - jealous

Trigger/Content Warning: Homophobia and Sexual Content

Charles' POV

Courtney has been bothering me and we haven't been together for more than... 6 hours, at this point. She continues to blabber about random things since we both left the Ferrari office in Italy and talked to the press. During the entire plane ride to Nice, she wouldn't even shut the fuck up for two whole seconds.

"Courtney, I love you, but please, just shut the fuck up for a while..." I put a hand to my forehead and my other hand slighly slams on the table before joining my other hand on my forehead.

She looks at me with an expressionless look and starts talking about something I didn't want her to talk about. "Your... uh... relationship with Max."

I stare at her and she continues the sentence that she wished she hadn't even started. "It needs to end. Charles, you're not a homosexual." My stare continues, almost increasing levels by now.

"Courtney, you're the, what, hundred and twenty-seventh person that has called me a faggot this week." She tries to say something but I immediately shush her. "Shh... It's alright. You can call me the F-slur all you want, I won't pay any attention to you."

She bats an eye and lifts an eyebrow. "I'm a proud homosexual, and I wasn't proud of being one before I started dating Max." I point a finger at her and she continues listening to what I say.

Finally, after large hours of being stuck and tied to this chair, Nyck somehow lets me free from his hidden basement. He puts a blindfold on my eyes, and I can't see anything.

I don't even know this hidden layout of his house. Every time he brought me into the hidden basement, he made me put on a blindfold.

He pushes me down onto the couch, making my back hurt slightly from the impact. He puts his hand on my chin and lifts it up abruptly, taking off the blindfold from my eyes. He looks at me with a thousand yard stare and uses the other hand to point at me. "You're not gay. You're confused. You're a straight guy with a girlfriend. And your girlfriend's name is -"

"Charles!" A voice snaps me out of my quick flashback. "I really need to go to a therapist to fix this." I think to myself. My thoughts are right. These flashbacks have been happening for too long. "What the fuck is your problem? I'm here talking about your shitty relationship and you're sitting there snapped out of existence!"

I stare at her with a "what the fuck?" look. The girl shrugs and keeps a confused look on her face. "My relationship with Max is none of your motherfucking business and it will NEVER be any of your business!" I clap back at her, standing up and pointing at her suddenly.

"I'm your girlfriend! Everything in your life is my business, you half-faced faggot! You look like a fucking stomach bug if stomach bugs were bisexuals!"

"What the fuck did you just say?!" I yell at her. "Number one, you're not my fucking girlfriend! Number two, nothing in my life has to do with you! So, I'd rather not have you involved in my life, understood?"

She grabs her purse and her suitcase. "Fine. Go fuck yourself. I hope you die in a car crash. Matter of fact, I hope you slit your wrists and die. Or even better, hang yourself with a rope and kill yourself, you faggot."

Wow. I just saw the true side of Courtney. This is the girl I wanted to marry. This is the girl that met me in her room's balcony and kissed me profundly. It didn't seem like the same person. It's almost like - she changed.

"What's wrong? You're worried." I look at her and I holds her hand.

"I'm just worried you'll... y'know."

"Don't be, Courtney. I can ask Fred if you can watch the race from the garage. I promise it'll all be alright." I promise her.

"Pinky finger promise?"

"Pinky finger promise." We both interlace our pinky fingers and kiss. I have to admit, kissing Courtney is a fucking fever dream.

The girl I fucked as revenge to her ex-boyfriend...

"Charles?" I hear a voice on top of me before I feel a weight crumble on my hairy chest.

I wake up and rub my eyes. "You ready for round 2?" She asks me, taking off my shirt instantly.

"Why didn't you ask earlier?" I pull her in and I start kissing her so hard she can't breathe. This is an impulse after what Nyck did to me.

A physical impulse, a mental impulse, a seuxal impulse. Worse than just straight up giving the middle finger.

Suddenly, her hand reaches down into my pants where she can feel my stiff cock. She unbuckles my belt and she pulls my pants all the way down.

She goes all the way down the sheets, getting close to my underwear. "How about you put me in a wheelchair, Charles?"

She's not the same. Not the same that took her revenge on Wyatt, putting him in prison for over 10 years.

She's not the same since she found out I fucked Max.

What is she hiding?