Asphyxiate (Lando Norris/AU)

Chapter 1

2 Weeks later

Chloe

I'm so fucking late.

I have to leave in 20 minutes, and I'm still in my underwear. I hate my alarm. I'm ready to murder someone every morning when the shrill sound pierce through my bedroom. And I have to breathe very deeply, so I don't I fling myself out the window.

Standing in my closet, I try desperately to put an outfit together. I end up just putting on some oversize cream dress pants and a brown turtleneck. Belt, blazer and a few necklaces.

I tuck the shirt in my pants. That'll have to do. I slip on my white trainers and hurry downstairs.

I would have loved being one of those energetic women that always woke up early. Doing my skincare while sitting down at one of those makeup vanities with the lightbulbs around the mirror, after doing my yoga, drinking my green tea. The women I always see in the "get-ready-with me" videos, when I doom scroll Instagram late at night.

They look so put together and in zen. I'm such a fucking shit show. As long as I get my coffee and a granola bar in the car, I'm fine for the first couple of hours at work.

Healthy, I know.

I end up sweating bullets, trying to put on makeup while I steam the milk for my cappuccino.

I sigh, looking at my phone to check the time. Fucking perfect, Chloe. Keep it up. It's not like you have a meeting in 35 minutes.

I hurry out in the hallway and burn my tongue on the coffee. I look in the mirror and decide I'm somewhat satisfied.

I have always perceived myself as kind of average. I'm 160 cm, a size 8, and I never had that thigh gab, which was so popular, when I was a teenager. My legs are short, and quite muscular.

But my proudest feature is my ass. It has taken me a long time building it. Years. My body was flat, and straight as the trunk of a tree in my early teens, but as the years passed, I grew curves. Thighs, hips, breasts. Features I definitely got from my mum.

Most of my jewellery is sitting in a box on the small table in my hallway, and I reach out to run my fingers over the cold metal. I try on some of the rings to see if today is the day that hell freezes over, and I decide on wearing a few of them.

I never liked the shape my fingers and hands got when I put the rings on. They looked like the hands of a child. Chubby and stump. But I always buy those fucking rings. Like the memory vanishes into thin air, every time I enter a store.

Stupid. I roll my eyes, and put down the rings. No rings, not today.

I comb my fingers through my hair and sigh in despair. It's reaching my collarbones, has dark roots that turn blond-ish after a few cm, and it is curly as fuck.

Not those big wavy curls you'll see everywhere on social media, but all natural, big, bouncy curls, all over my head.

I put a hair tie around it, until it is completely smooth and slick over my head,, sitting in a bun at the nape of my neck.

The last part of my makeup is still missing from my face, so I pick up the mascara, unscrew it, and brush it over my lashes. Grab the setting spray, and spay like there's no tomorrow, have a quick look and lock eyes with myself.

"Today is going to be a good day" I say out loud.

I grab my bag from the rack behind the front door, and double check if everything is there. I'm already so late.

"Some day, I'm going to forget to take a breath, and just die doing some random shit," I growl while throwing myself, and my stuff, in the car.

I turn the key to start the car, and take a deep breath to calm myself as I close my eyes, throwing my head back against the seat. I open my eyes after giving myself a few seconds to breathe, and look at the time.

8:05 am.

The music starts at full volume after a few seconds, and I quickly reach out my hand to the control panel, to turn it down just a bit, until I'm out on the main road.

It's cold but sunny, and I put on my sunglasses while lifting my right foot off the clutch and stepping carefully on the gas with my left. As I roll out the driveway and take a left on the small road, I turn up the volume of the music.

I have about a 15-minute drive to the office, and I always spend it singing as loud as I can.

"I took an arrow to the heart..." Ed Sheeran sings loudly as a flashback immediately jolts up in my memory

... he's biting my lip as he pushes me up against the wall, one hand with a firm grip on the back of my neck, his thumb tracing my jawline, and the other squeezing my thigh tight while he holds my leg around his waist...

A chill goes down my spine and takes a firm grip of my insides in the pit of my stomach. My eyelids flutter and I shake my head, as if the motion will wipe the memory from my brain, or at least get it as far away as possible.

It doesn't work.

For fuck's sake. Stop thinking. That's my go to. Don't fucking think about anything other than work. Just be. Don't think.

I switch the song, and scream along to James Bay. The memory works its way to the back of my mind, and a few minutes later I pull into the car park. My meeting is starting now, so I will definitely be late.

I open the car door, and get out with all my stuff cradled in my arms, my eyes squint as the sun reflects on the big building in front of me. I start walking across the big car park, rearranging my things, so it won't look like I just kidnapped a baby.

The big trees, which during summer were green, are now bare and grey from the hardness and cold from winter. The sun is warm on my face. How rare. A February day with no icing winds or rain that will skin your cheeks to the bone.

I decided to walk, rather than run, around the big building.

The thought of me rushing into the conference room late, panting and sweating like a pig, doesn't seem very appealing to me. They would be starting the meeting with or without me, so 5 or 7 minutes late won't matter.

If I'm sweating bullets panting like a 70-year-old, who just walked up a flight of stairs, I'm absolutely sure the meeting won't go any better. So I walk.

I greet a few people with a quick "good morning," as I make my way around the building on the pathway to the main entrance. I concentrate on my steps not quickening as I walk, fighting every fibre of my being, trying not to pick up the pace.

"Hey Chloe, good morning love. Shouldn't you be in a meeting right now?" a voice chimes behind me.

I turn around smiling, because I know who the voice belongs to. Amy.

Her long wavy red hair is reflecting the sun, making it look like her head is on fire. I chuckle at the thought of it, and halter my steps as I wait for her to catch up to me.

A few more minutes late won't hurt. It will be annoying as fuck. But it won't hurt. I push the feeling of being inadequate aside, and answer the question.

"I'm late," I sigh, as I give an apologetic smile at Amy. It makes my uneasiness with the situation flare up again, like a black monster roaring under the surface of my skin, making it tingle.

"What's new?" Amy cackles as she throws her head back. "No worries. Isn't it just the usual suspects and some questionable coffee?" She glances at me, with a reassuring look on her face.

She knows I hate being late, or in any way unorganised at my job.

"No." The regret in my voice can be heard all the way to London.

We turn the corner, and have our first view of the massive artificial lake. The giant glass facade on the building is being reflected on the surface. I love that view.

"It's the HR-strategy meeting for the entire first half of the season." We go through the glass doors to the massive lobby, swipe our ID-cards and nod to the receptionist, as we go past the orange race cars and up the stairs.

Authors note

So. You met Chloe. Hope you like her.