Unreliable

29 - threats part one

Trigger/Content Warning: Death Threats, Homophobia, Self-harm, Stalking

Charles' POV

"I don't know how to combat this. Every time I block an account, every time I report an account, a new one appears." I pass the already wet paper towel through my face, cleaning the continuously dripping tears. "It's almost like she knows, she knows that I'm blocking and reporting the accounts, and she creates a new one to continue."

"Have you... somehow thought about self-harming?" My therapist says and I look up at his face. Standard face, normal expression, writing down on his small A5 notebook with a standard blue pen. Why am I over-focusing on details and not the question he asked me?

"Thought? Yes. Actually done it?" I pause for a while before continuing. "Yes." He repositions himself in his chair, sighing lightly. "And... before you ask, yes. I was fully aware and I knew what I was doing while I was... self-harming."

"Did you ever think about the consequences?"

"What consequences?"

"You know. The consequences of you self-harming. How your friends would react if they found out you self-harmed."

"They won't find out, they can't find out. If they find out... you don't want to know what happens to my image - to my career."

"What will happen to your career, Charles?"

"I will be fucking ridiculed! I won't be known as the potential World Champion, I'll only be known as the «tiny little faggot that cuts his arms for fun»! You don't fucking understand what these types of information can do to my life. I've worked my fucking ass off to get into this sport alright?"

He looks at me and puts down his notebook and his pen, uncrossing his legs.

"Ten years of karting, more than 5 years of Formula 4, 3 and 2, more than 6 years of proving myself, proving my talent in Formula One, losing my father, losing my godfather, losing my fucking friend! I went through hell and back to get here. I'm not letting anyone, and I mean ANYONE ruin my chances of being a World Champion, especially when I'm only one win away from doing that this year."

I get up and I grab my phone and my car keys.

"Charles..."

"No. We're over. I'm done with this fucking conversation." I leave the room and I call the elevator.

Leaving the building, I enter my car and I drive to a place near the bridge.

I park the car, activate the parking brake, put the gear in neutral and I turn off the engine. I leave the car and I start walking to a random place on the bridge.

The breeze is quite cold but calm up here. It feels... nice.

Looking down into the pit of cold water I recognize the height I'm at. Pretty high.

I'm lost. I don't know what to do. Should I throw myself off here and just complete what Lando, at least, 2 month ago Lando, and Jennifer have been asking for?

The words they have told me stay on repeat in my head.

You're worthless.

Your parents spent so much on you just for you to be shit.

Nobody fucking loves you.

Nobody thinks you can do it.

Everybody thinks that you can't do it.

"Charles?" I hear a voice call from behind me but I ignore it, burying deeper and deeper into my thoughts.

You're such a fucking bad driver.

You can't drive shit.

You don't deserve a seat.

You're the type of driver that crashes on the first fucking turn.

You should kill yourself.

"Charles?" I hear someone put their hand on my shoulder and hug me tightly. It's Max.

I rest my hand on his chest, even though we are almost the same height. He starts brushing my hair with his hands lightly, comforting me as much as he can.

I take my head out of his chest and I look at him in the eye. He looks at me with a sadden expression and finally talks. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"About what?"

"About the fact that you're on the guardrail of a one-hundred meter tall bridge? What's going on?"

"Nothing's going on, Max. And I have nothing to talk about." I start separating myself from the conversation when suddenly Max grabs my arm.

"Charles. I know you're not okay. Please, talk about it. It could make you feel better."

"Fine. I'll talk about it. But not here."

"Hotel, then?"

"Sure."