razorblade | sebastian vettel ✓

chapter 2 | red bull racing

«Once upon a time, the planets and the fates and all the stars aligned.»

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The numbers increased and Cassandra felt weirder. Not nervous though, just a bit annoyed. God, she hated Hans, that building, and the stares she would probably receive when the elevator doors opened for her. Maybe he'd done her a favour by firing her because she would have jumped off the last floor if she kept working there. Even the simple smell of the place made her feel disgusted. It felt like selling her soul to the devil, although Cassandra knew she was way past that.

The job per se didn't use to be bad. She got the opportunity to write — nonsensical articles sometimes, but it was still writing — and the pay was enough for her to afford the kind of life she liked to live without touching her father's money. Now she was telling another story, but at this point, Cassandra was aware she had brought that upon herself.

The elevator doors opened with a clink and she placed a hand on her chest at the surprise of the sound. The first face who received her was Iman, the receptionist on the floor who smiled brightly at the sight of her. Cassandra gave her a small smile in return and waved her hand as she walked closer to her desk.

"Cassandra, so nice to see you," Iman told her when she was close enough. The girl sounded sincere and amicable, something that was rare to find among the people who worked at the magazine.

"Nice to see you too." She placed her hands on the desk and looked around. Everything was still in the same place. "I have a meeting with Hans, I don't know if he told you?"

Iman checked her computer screen and then looked at her. "Oh, he told me he was expecting someone but didn't say it was you." She reached for a visitor pass and handed it to her. "Good luck." And there was a wink, some sort of sign of encouragement, Cassandra assumed.

All Cassandra could do was scrunch her nose in displeasure, earning a chuckle from Iman. She proceeded to make her way to where the action truly happened next. A few glances turned to her when she walked past the glass doors, some surprised, some smug, and some simply not worth paying attention to. It really was one of the most toxic environments she'd ever worked in, and she used to work in customer service at a vegan restaurant when she was sixteen.

Her eyes spotted her old cubicle, it was empty of course. Hans hadn't found a new victim for that hell they called workplace.

"Oh, Cassandra." She almost gagged at the sound of that voice and the guy who had decided to take his time to interrupt her quiet journey. "It's a pleasure to see you." Jan was insufferable, and his snarky voice just showed the conversation wouldn't end with any compliments being exchanged.

Cassandra stopped in her tracks and glared daggers at him. The saying goes if looks could kill. "Can't say the same, to be honest."

The asshole snorted, because of course. She wasn't lying when she said the work environment was toxic. "Are you here to write that article about faking orgasms? Heard that's your thing now." Jan smirked.

"Yeah, I like to do research for my articles so why don't you tell your girlfriend to give me a call? I'm sure she knows a thing or two about faking orgasms." That seemed to be enough to get him to stop smirking at least.

Not waiting for him to retort to that, Cassandra resumed her way toward Hans' office. It was rather impressive she got fired for sleeping with a coworker and not for murdering one. Something about not looking pretty enough in jail.

Before knocking on the door to make her presence known, Cassandra took a deep breath and psyched herself. She was there because she was good, and if anything, Hans requiring her was more proof of it. Consider it, she remembered Abigail's words. She could do that, she could be civil and all of it.