Fast & Hard (The Fast 1)

Halfway through the night I get up and move to Lennox’s flat. I know he hasn’t come home because I would have heard it. It’s not like I can really sleep even though every couple of hours my body shuts down for a few minutes. In his flat, I’m at least surrounded by him, wrapped in his sheets that smell like him, sweet torture.

Because I am stupid and desperate, I keep calling and texting him through the night. I send him a thousand messages that don’t go through. I admit it in writing and tell him I love him. That I would never hurt him like that. I beg him not to throw us away and hurt me tonight.

None of them go through.

Despite exhaustion, my body launches upright when I hear the doorknob jiggling the next morning, or whatever time it is. It’s daylight, that’s all I can tell. My pillow is soaked and black from pools of my mascara.

“Lennox?” I run into the living room as the door opens, still in yesterday’s clothes.

“Oh, sorry, Ms. Mitchell.” One of the Celeritas security guards has let himself in. “Um, boy, this is awkward.”

“What?” Has he been hurt, did he drive like a madman and wreck that stupid time machine car?

“Umm,” the man in Celeritas security gear scratches his head. “I’m real sorry ma’am but I’ve been sent to remove all the personal effects and change the locks on this flat.”

I don’t have any words forming in my mind, just colors and swirls and stars. I race to the bathroom and throw up the only thing left inside me, putrid bile. I stagger back out and look at the man. “Do you…” I mumble.

He puts his hands up, “I don’t know anything, ma’am. Just changing the locks. Do you need assistance moving any items to your flat?”

“N-no, let me just get my phone.” Walking back into his bedroom I find my phone in the sheets and like a pathetic little girl, I take his pillow with me and walk past the security guard, full of shame.

In my kitchen, the tears start again. He’s really serious. He’s done with me.

I tap my phone screen awake to try him again. There are a series of Google Alerts waiting for me. I have them set up to ping me whenever certain keywords hit the web’s search index, “Lennox Gibbes,” “Gibbes Celeritas,” “#LennoxGibbes2019.” There’s a smattering of those alerts covering my screen now.

My fingers are shaking so bad I can hardly click the links.

Headline: Celeritas’ Lennox Gibbes’ Wild Night in London!

Blog: The Paddock Playboy is Back, Baby!

Insta: Look who I met last night! #LennoxGibbes

PoeticPoppy: There’s videos everywhere, he was sooooooo drunk lol

5FingerDiscount: Come on, dude, that’s like 8 hot chicks hanging on you. Leave some for the rest of us!

PhoenixRysing: when u look like him maybe u’ll have a harem 2

ManchesterUfan: is that Kate Allendale with him again? Score!

There are photos and videos on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Snapchat - they’re everywhere. Several bars and pubs and clubs were geotagged. There are fan selfies with him on the streets of London at all hours of the night. He’s stumbling drunk in one of them. In another, he catches a bra someone offscreen throws at his head. Countless women wrapping their hands around him, smashing up to the side of him for photos.

I don’t even recognize the look in his green eyes, vacant.

I have nothing left in my stomach to throw up but my body somehow keeps producing tears. Those never leave me. The finality of it hits me, there is no recovering from this now. Up until this very moment I was holding onto the smallest shred of hope, but this is the end.

They’ve swallowed us up. And now it’s too late.

It’s dark when I wake up on the couch and, like a moth to a flame, I make myself check the usual platforms. There’s nothing new. No messages or missed calls, either. I’ve been ghosted and replaced. I have no idea where he might be, not that it matters. I have no one in my corner on this entire continent and have never been so alone. Do I even have a job anymore?

With delirious thoughts speeding through my mind and the worst pain I have ever had in my head, or my heart, I check my work email.

Ms. Mitchell,

As I understand it, this email will not come as a surprise to you. Effective immediately, there has been a staff restructure. You will now solely represent Mr. DuPont. Mr. Gibbes issued this request and Mr. DuPont has accepted. In the best interest of Celeritas, I have made all the necessary arrangements. You will depart for Austria in two days with the other DuPont personnel.

Best,