Hate You - LN

3

"Great! So I'll draw up the contract for one year with us." Zak clapped his hands together on the other end of the Zoom call. "Both Lando and Oscar's trainers will report to you when it comes to any future injuries if they can't handle it but my guess is you'll be mainly dealing with Lando and maybe some of the mechanics. I'll bring the papers for you to sign to Bahrain."

"Great, thank you so much Zak I'm looking forward to working with you and the team."

"It will be a pleasure to have you working with us Devin. I'll forward you our travel organizer's information. Get in contact with her, the team will cover all plane and hotel fairs to the race weekends, but she'll need your information to do so."

"Yes of course."

"Okay. Awesome. Then I will see you in Bahrain!" Zak said excitedly.

"See you then!" I tried to sound excited but my excitement died on my face the minute the Zoom cut out. The email with the information for the McLaren travel advisor came through a few seconds later as if Zak had already drafted the email before our interview even started. I quickly copied down the information and sent an email to the contact asking about hotels and flights before slamming my laptop shut and letting my head fall onto my desk. I closed my eyes. "Fuck." I breathed.

This morning Toto called to inform me that their previous head physiotherapist for the team had decided to continue working for them last minute. Although Toto didn't seem all that impressed with the guy's late notice of continuing employment, he couldn't go back on the contract if the guy didn't want to terminate it. But, Toto guaranteed me a position at Mercedes next year if I wanted it which was kind of him. I could tell he felt bad about the whole situation, but I guess that it is what it is.

I'd hoped to not have to resort to Mclaren, with Lando hating my guts and all, it will definitely create tensions within the work environment. But now I have no other choice. Aston Martin even filled the liaison position I had last year and no other teams were hiring this late in the winter break. Bahrain is in a week for god's sake. Had I been smart enough to start talking to teams last season, I might have gone to a different team.

The hardwood of my desk began to dig into my forehead so I lifted up and shut my laptop. The candle I lit earlier still burned on my kitchen counter, filling the small space with the delicious smell of vanilla and lavender. I quickly stood, blowing it out and walked into my bathroom, stripping as I went and climbed into the shower. Willing the water to wash away my worries about Lando. I was finishing up my thesis when I walked out on him. A month later I graduated, and Lorenzo found me on the floor of my old family home. Time has gone by and I've never told Lando why I left him. I still regretted it.

How in the hell am I supposed to work with a man who hates me, and I can't even give him a reason not to hate me? He has every right to be an asshole to me.

I groaned and tried to rub away the tension in my head by massaging my scalp. My scar lingers along my skin at the tips of my fingers. I ignore it and wash my hair with shampoo and conditioner. Taking the time to shave and exfoliate as well, not wanting to leave the warm embrace of water comforting my healed body and scared mind.

"So, you didn't want me at your graduation?" Dad slurs from the couch.

In his left hand, there is a half-empty bottle of what I assume is whiskey. His favourite. Our once beautiful house on the outskirts of Monaco had been wrecked from the inside out since Mum died. I remember as a kid all the lovely gardens she used to nurture, and I remember how she was always so particular about mess. She'd always specify though, that there was a difference between a clean, well-loved space, and a dirty home.

Nowadays I didn't doubt if she saw her home now she would reach for a vacuum of a broom. Maybe just give up and walk right out the door. The mahogany bookshelves in the lounge were broken, and books were thrown in different places all over the torn carpet. The back window that leads to the backyard is broken. Thankfully only one of the panes of glass though, so the wind doesn't come through despite the spiderweb of cracks. Beer, wine and hard liquor bottles are piled up on surfaces everywhere you look. The source of their emptiness staggered through the space towards me.