Chapter 1
Chapter One
Ana?s
This cannot be happening.
My eyes widen as I watch the onslaught of messages flood my social media. I stopped opening them after seeing the same video circulating.
Me and Royce.
I stiffen as I replay the memory over in my head.
Dumping me in the middle of a crowded pit lane, the same weekend that his home race, Silverstone, was on.
Not the best timing on both our parts.
It’s not you, it’s me.
I need to focus on my career.
I want to be world champion.
I was numb to it at first, shrugged it off, but with every new message, the elastic band that has been snapping against my skin begins to sting more each time.
Sighing, I lock my phone and toss it to the bed.
I didn’t need to keep reliving it through social media, I was doing enough of that in my head.
As each second passes, something cuts deeper beneath the surface and I hated it.
Hated feeling like this.
I needed a break. I was slightly humiliated, and it didn’t help that Royce was one of the most sought after F1 drivers. All the fans loved him, and so did the sponsors.
A tightness pulls in my chest, and I close my eyes, inhaling heavily.
I was a popular influencer way before I got involved with Royce but having him on my arm helped my career rocket.
I was getting him signed to new labels and sponsors, he was getting me in to places I would have never got a shot before.
Plus, the pros of dating a race driver meant I got to hang out each race weekend with the other girlfriends and celebrities who attend, and snap behind the scenes footage of Royce and his team, Saint Onyx Racing.
Sighing, I shake my head. It seemed like our relationship was purely business, but it was so much more than that. I loved him fiercely and I know he loved me right back. But he wanted more from his career. Wanted more than just me.
And as much as that hurt me, I understood it completely.
A knock at my door has me spinning around and I exhale slowly. Looking through the peep hole, I see my friend Nora standing on the other side of the door. Unhooking the catch, I twist the handle and let her in to my penthouse apartment in Kensington.
“Hi hun,” she says softly as she steps past me and into the open planned space.
“Hey,” I reply on a sigh, my hand pressing to my chest as I try and elevate the ache that radiates through me.
“You doing okay?” Her head tilts to the side, eyes narrowing on mine as she gives me a quick sweep over.
“Yeah, fine.” I nod, crossing my arms in front of my chest, feeling slightly defensive.
“You sure?” Her perfectly raised brow lifts and I roll my eyes.
“Yes!” I instantly feel bad for snapping at her. My back is up and I hate it. I don’t even feel angry. I’m sad. Disappointed. Especially when I thought he was my person.
Then it clicked. I was clearly not fine.
My heart had splintered into a thousand pieces and the man I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with destroyed that dream in a singular moment.
“When did you last shower?”
I scrunch my nose up at her question. Rude. But she had a point.
I slowly lift my tee to my nose and sniff then turn my lips in disgust.“Go shower,” she orders, pointing towards my bedroom and I stomp away like a stroppy teenager.
“I’ll put the kettle on!” she shouts back, and I mimic her silently before slamming the door behind me.
Showered and in fresh clothes, I throw myself down onto the sofa in a huff. Nora presses a mug into my hands.
My eyes fixate on her. I felt numb, not sure what direction my life was heading. I was so sure with Royce, he was my safe space, but now… Now, I was all alone.
“It’s okay to admit you’re sad. It was a shitty thing to do,” Nora says as she blows on her hot tea.
“I am sad,” I tell her, my fingers wrapped around the warm cup. I wasn’t trying to hide my feelings, I was trying to navigate them.
She nods her head.
“But I am also angry. It was out of the blue. He went straight for my throat.” I choke, my voice cracking.
“Understandable.” She nods again and takes a sip of her tea. “It was a bit of a dick move.” Her tongue darts out as she licks her top lip.
Nora has been my best friend since college. Joined at the hip some would say.
She went into public relations; I went into social media. It was never my dream, I wanted to follow down her route of work, but after losing my parents in a short space of time, I didn’t put my full attention into my work or exams and failed pretty much all of them.
My own doing, but I cut myself some slack. I had a lot going on.
She suggested I do some influencer stuff, just as a stop gap, and five years on, I am still fully submersed into this world. With over one hundred thousand followers, I get paid to post about my day.
“It was.” I hum but that doesn’t stop the ache that settle in my stomach.
Her eyes drift towards my pink suitcase before they settle back on mine.
“Where are you going?”
I trail my eyes over my shoulder and look in the same direction. A heavy sigh lifts my shoulders.
“Not sure yet. Going to see where I can duck out to and focus on my work and myself for three months.”
“Have you told me this or was it going to be a surprise kind of thing?”
“I haven’t and I was going to…”
“Surprise me.”
I shake my head. “Tell you.”
“When?” Her lips twist and I narrow my gaze on her.
“Now?” My eyes settle on her pretty face, and she gives me a warm smile.
Short black hair, ocean blue eyes, tall and slim.
Love the bones off that girl.
“Good job I love you, Ana?s.” She giggles, shaking her head.
“I would say come with me but…”
“But I am super busy with work clearing up some assholes public break up.” She rolls her eyes in an exaggerated manner.
Yes. My best friend does all of Royce’s PR.
Great.
“Oh yes, how did I forget?” I snicker and fold my legs under myself as I get comfortable again.
“Plus, I think it’ll be good for you to go away for a while on your own.”
“Yeah?” I raise a brow.
“Yeah.” She gives me a smile “are you thinking of going abroad?” she asks me as she gets herself comfortable.
“Probably. I’m not sure if I really want to stay in England.” I look out at the dreary British summer and shake my head.
“Don’t blame you.”
“Where is Royce going to be for the next couple of races? I can’t think off the top of my head and I can’t be arsed to go into my phone emails.”
“Lazy,” she scoffs. “Belgium, Hungary, and Netherlands.”
“Okay, so scrap those off your list.”
“Done.”
Silence echoes around my large suite but mine and Nora’s eyes don’t lift from each other.
I know she is thinking something, her lips twitch ever so slightly when she is trying to either figure something out or think of a new plan of action.
“Go to Monaco.” She shrugs one of her shoulders up.
“Why would I go to Monaco? Royce goes out there every now and then…” I trail off.
“Exactly for that reason. He goes out there every now and then, he lives at home, likes his home comforts. You won’t bump into him, plus you know where he goes if he was to fly over. Let’s be honest, he only ever goes there for the Monaco weekend and the odd event.”
I sigh, looking back out the window at the soft rain that hits the windowpane and a whole city below my feet.
“And if, for whatever reason, he decides he is going to go over there, then I will deter him.”
“You promise?”
“I promise.” She crosses her finger over her heart before sliding her phone out of her pocket and tapping away on the screen.
Doubt settles into my mind, my stomach twisting. Just as I am about to tell Nora that this isn’t a good idea, I hear the ping from her phone followed by, “I have booked you a penthouse in Monaco.”
Shit.
“On the business account.”
Double shit.
“You leave tomorrow evening.”
I see her out and give her a kiss on the cheek before closing the door behind her and locking it. Spinning, I suck the air into my lungs as my back presses against the cool surface.
As if this was happening.
Forty-eight hours ago, I was wrapped up in my Royce Lexington love bubble.
Now, I am single and about to hop on a one-way trip to Monaco.
The fuck was I doing?
Scrambling forward, I move into my bedroom, swipe my phone from my bed, and tap in Nora’s number.
She answers on the first ring.
“Hello darling,”
“First—"
“Stop right there.” Her tone is sharp, and I snap my lips shut.
“Do not even try and begin to talk yourself out of this trip. You had already planned to leave, I just…” She pauses for a moment as I hear the sound of a car door being closed before she spills her address to the taxi driver.
“Gave you the encouraging kick up the ass you so desperately needed.”
I go to open my mouth but don’t have a chance to get the words out.
“So, you’re going to get yourself ready, go to your booked laser appointment, and get some cute nails, because whether you like it or not, you’re getting on that plane tomorrow to Monaco.”
My hand comes up to my face as I drop into my palm.
“But—"
“Goodbye,” she cuts me off.
I slump on the bed then let myself fall back, eyes pinned to the ceiling.
I had two choices, stay here and self-wallow about my ex-boyfriend, or go to Monaco and find myself again.
After a moment or two of flitting back between a list of pros and cons, I settle on the latter.
Walking into the sleek clinic in Chelsea, I document my trip and vlog as I go.
No editing here today, just the raw footage of me about to get my final session of hair removal.
I smile at the camera and make sure to tag the clinic before I stop the video.
Pressing save before I upload it to all social media platforms and within minutes, the notifications are tumbling in.
“Hey Ana?s, how are you?” Lorna says from behind the desk as I pass her an iced vanilla matcha.
“I’ve been better.” I lift my glasses from my eyes and place them on my head.
“We’re sorry,” Bronte says as she slips around the corner, and I hold my hand out for to take her chai latte.
“It’s fine,” I say, my bottom lip wobbling and she goes to come in for a hug, but I step back. Because I know if I cuddle her, I’ll cry. Again.
“I don’t want any more tears over him,” I say softly but with a firm tone.
Bronte gives me a knowing nod and turns her back, walking towards the treatment room. I give Lorna an apologetic look and scarper behind Bronte.
She closes the door behind me as I place my coffee down and hang my bag up but not before deep diving for my phone.
“Okay for me to film?” She never says no but I always like to ask.
“Of course.” She holds her hand out for me to tuck myself behind the curtain and get undressed.
“So, totally cool if you don’t want to…”
I pop my head around the curtain.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” I give her a weak smile, and she dips her head in agreement.
Silence bounces against the walls and before I slip back outside, I take a selfie and post it to my stories with some of my favourite hashtags.
#nomorehair #laserforthewin #tidy
“Is this still going to hurt?” I ask as I tiptoe back into the room and take my seat on the bed.
“Not as much…” She trails off and looks up at me through her lashes. “Maybe, a little.” She shrugs a shoulder up and takes a mouthful of her drink before placing it behind her.
“I’m going to Monaco tomorrow,” I say breezily, and I wish I was convincing but the tremble in my voice gave me away.
“Yeah?” Bronte says as she slips her glasses on then scoots herself forward on her stool.
“Yeah, it was Nora’s idea,” I rush out as she passes me my own glasses.
“Might be good for you to get away, given everything that is going on.” She pushes from her seat and drags the tripod over. After I set it onto time lapse, she takes the phone and places it in the cradle.
“Yeah, that’s what she said,” I mumble, looking at my camera before I am focused on Bronte who is sitting at the bottom of the bed.
“Why Monaco?” she asks as she reaches for the laser.
“Why not?” I shrug both shoulders up.
“Will Royce not be there?”
Anxiety slithers through me.
“Apparently not.” I click my tongue to the roof of my mouth as she starts on the worse part – my vagina.
We fall into easy conversation whilst she lasers my body and for just a while, I forget about my heartbreak.
Giving Bronte a kiss on the cheek, I say goodbye. She wishes me luck and says she can’t wait to see what I share. I laugh it off. Half through nerves. Half through excitement.
Walking slowly, I hold onto my handheld vlog camera and record a little afternoon in the life of Clemmie or Clementine. I go under that name, not sure why. Maybe it’s my auburn hair, or the fact that my favourite colour is orange… but either way, I liked it and then it just stuck.
Pushing through the door of my favourite little coffee shop, I wave at the girls and order myself a fruit smoothie and a pistachio croissant, then sit down at the small table in the window.
I cut the recording and sit quietly, doom scrolling and replying to some of the nicer comments whilst drinking my smoothie.
“Oh, my God.”
I hear a voice behind me, and I find myself lifting my face. A young girl, probably around nineteen maybe, eyes all wide and wistful, smile growing and dimples presenting into her cheeks, is stood there.
“You’re Clementine, right?” Her hands are clenched in front of her, her phone tucked inside one of those fists.
“I am.” I smile and she kind of squeals.
“I love your vlog.” Her cheeks turn pink. “Honestly, you’re my favourite influencer to watch. I love everything about you.”
“Well.” I tuck my hair behind my ear. “Thank you.” My own cheeks pinch a crimson red as I smile at her, but her smile shortly fades.
“I’m sorry about you and Royce, I thought you were end game.”
“So did I.” I give a sad smile. “But these things happen for a reason,” I reassure her as I run my fingers through my hair, pushing at the root to give it a little volume.
“Can I be cheeky and ask for a selfie?”
I look horrendous.
“Sure!” I force my smile to widen as I stand up and she holds her phone out in front of her, then takes the snap.
“Thank you so much.” She is giddy as she waves me off and skips out the shop.
I sit back down and finish my smoothie.
I used to find it odd when people came up to me to speak or ask for selfies, but now it kind of feels the norm. I know some don’t get it; I’m not celebrity, I haven’t really done anything different for my success, but here I am.
It makes me feel good in some way, but other times it makes me feel not deserving.
Grabbing my stuff, I pop my phone away and place my camera in my bag before I collect my plate and smoothie cup and place it up on the worktop.
“Thanks,” I say softly and wave bye to the girls behind the counter. Lifting my eyes across my shoulder and double checking I have everything before I make my way home to get ready for my flight.