#stranger things 4 red carpet | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

partycatty · 4 months

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i need more dark star johnny IF U CAN 🙏🙏

or! therapy <3

dark star!johnny cage > nobody else

expanding on this post, specifically when i mention how unfair he is regarding attention from others

warnings: again, abusive relationship. johnny being annoying. smut w degradation and sadism (not explicitly consented to)

notes: guys i'm starting to think we can't fix him...

masterlist <3

part 1*/ part 3* / part 4* / part 5* / part 6*

•dark star!johnny cage, as previously mentioned, loves having you hang off of his arm like a pretty handbag. you're his accessory on the red carpet and he prefers to keep it that way. he'll strut and pose while you stand behind him and look pretty.

•you guys are getting ready for the red carpet event that leads into a cast interview for ninja mime 3.

•"i can't have you looking too good, sugar. you'll take all the attention." he says as you twirl around in your fancy dress, one that's sure to match his outfit. when you guys are in public, you need to match. it's like his only requirement. it's not a hard task either, since this man's wardrobe is DIVERSE. he's got that stupid coat in all colors

•god that coat is so stupid and dumb and oversized he's such a cornball but GOD DO YOU LOVE FUCKING HIM WHILE HE KEEPS IT ON LMFAO SORRY ANYWAY

•johnny's hand rests confidently on the small of your back, though he's doing it to guide you rather than comfort you. he discreetly uses it to move you along, but stops in his tracks at a young girl holding an MTV labeled microphone. she looks to be about nineteen, maybe twenty. she smiles, batting her lashes at your boyfriend and pays minimal attention to you.

•i should say, you have your chunk of fame, but it's from being johnny's girlfriend. only his real fans know your name. it's always been "johnny and his latest fling," "cage's match," "johnny and that one girl." this was fine with you. your boyfriend would prefer it that way.

•back to the girl, though. she stands, a little nervously on the carpet waiting to catch actors, and ended up scoring the lead star. she introduces herself and opens by saying she won an MTV raffle to interview celebrities on the red carpet. she's awkward, but her smile is bright and her body is defined under her little dress.

•johnny makes an obvious effort at showing his interest in her, lowering his sunglasses down his nose and drinking in her view top to bottom and back again. you can't argue back. you won't argue back. not in public. smiling a sweet smile, your fingernails dig into your palms.

•"aren't you the cutest little thing?" johnny says, grabbing her face and leaning in close. "could just eat you up." and the girl almost collapses at his advance, knees buckling as she anxiously reads through the bland interview questions. johnny smirks that classic smirk and answers in his typical fashion, referring to himself as "sexy face" and "the boom" as he rambles on and on about how much work it takes to be as perfect as he is.

•as he's enamored with this complete stranger, you feel a hand on your bare shoulder. you spin around and see one of johnny's co-stars! he greets you with a grin and says you look great, putting a hand on your arm to show his sincerity. it feels warm, it feels genuine. for a moment, it feels better than the love that johnny gives you, if you could even call it that.

•the thoughts are abruptly ejected from your mind when johnny reaches across from you and grabs a fistful of the co-star's dress shirt, holding him in place. honestly, this man probably looks like a peacock rn, showing off his feathers by standing tall and wearing that dumb blue coat. sillies aside, the co-star immediately tenses up and puts his arms up in a surrender pose. johnny pauses and looks around, people are horrified at the sight and what could've come of it. his eyes lead to you, and he groans to himself, releasing the other man and grabbing your wrist, not hard enough to raise eyebrows but enough to tell you he was fuming. his giant sunglasses conceal his furrowed brows and glaring eyes. if there's one thing he'd save, it'd be his reputation. the last thing he wants is an assault charge on a co-star, so who better to take it out on than his girlfriend?

•johnny pulls you away from the cameras and ogling eyes, slamming the door to the women's bathroom and locking it. almost immediately, he's towering over you, holding you by your shoulder against the door and pointing in your face with the other.

•"you're a fucking whore," he says with a nasty tone. "you enjoy getting men's attention, don't you? you just love pissing me off." he grabs your face, squishing your cheeks but it's nowhere near a cute gesture. "who do you belong to?"

•"you—" you muffle out, afraid to look at him when he gets like this. the sunglasses make it easier. that is, until he tucks them into the collar of his shirt to get a better look at you. his eyes are animalistic, wildly infuriated that you even bothered to give another man a smithereen of attention. "i belong to—"

•SMACK. johnny backhands you, the ring sending a nasty red streak across your face. you whimper, legs weakening. it's just a damn shame you're a masochist, huh?

•"speak up," he commands, now caressing that part of your face. "i'm only asking one more time. who do you belong to?"

•like some kind of sick and twisted game, johnny's hand lifts one of your legs, holding it up by your thigh. before you'd get the chance to use your voice properly, his hand expertly lifts up your skirt enough to swipe two fingers across your shamefully wet panties. you yelp out and grab hold of his sleeves to stabilize yourself. he chuckles breathily, momentarily forgetting to be angry.

•he watches your face contort as he applies pressure with two rough fingers on your pulsating clit. it's like he's trying to make responding difficult. you put a hand over your mouth to muffle your noises of protest, but johnny removes your hand and pins it above your head. he uses his legs to divide yours, the closeness now intoxicating with his expensive cologne. you can feel his hot, hard cock on your thigh, but we'll get to that later.

•"not... not here–" you try to protest, but end up involuntarily moving your hips to relieve the pressure he's putting on your clit. johnny, still mad but now also amused, leans into your ear.

•"you wanna be a whore? i'm gonna make you one, whether you like it or not."

•johnny removes his hand from your panties and admires the shine on the pads of his fingers. he chuckles and forces them into your mouth, which you lick reluctantly, looking downward.

•"eyes on the prize," he purrs, making you look up at him through your lashes.

•"i'm sorry," you mumble out, a trail of saliva from his fingers dribbling down your lips when he pulls them away. "i belong to you, sir."

•"fuckin' prove it then," he replies in a deep grumble, one his other hand to push you to your knees by your neck and the other fumbling with his stupidly large belt. his cock springs free, and you swear that thing is never not hard. homeboy's probably gettin ED at 39.

•both good and bad johnny strike me as a 7.5 incher, cut with a pink tip and a slight curve. and yes, he waxes. of course he waxes, have you looked at the fucker?

•should also mention, when it comes to sex, he is entirely focused on himself. very rarely will he eat you out or rub your clit as he fucks you, unless he's trying to prove a point that he can treat you better than any other man. tragically, he's treating this instance as a need for a punishment, where you need to serve him.

•he holds your pretty hair together like a ponytail and pushes you forward, pressing his flushed tip against your pillowy lips. he doesn't even need to say "open," you do so willingly and hold your tongue out the way he likes.

•"you gonna take me like the slut you are?" johnny asks with a little groan as his tip smacks against your tongue. all you can do is nod before he thrusts, his shaft being caressed by the fleshy insides of your mouth. you curse yourself mentally for not fixing that gag reflex he hates so much as you do indeed gag on his dick while it hits the back of your throat. you silently wish he got into the habit of easing himself in rather than shoving full force.

•even though dark star!johnny is more dominant, he still whimpers, even if he hates to admit it. when the tip kisses the back of your throat, he lurches forward a tad, letting out a sweet whimper before composing himself again.

•also i'm so glad the mk fandom just all agrees he whimpers isn't that so funny

•"you gonna start sucking, or am i fucking that pretty face myself?" he asks through gritted teeth, thrusting a little deeper to warn you. you gag again and try your hardest to shake your head.

•"good girl, for once," johnny mumbles. "sit still."

•johnny removes his throbbing cock from your throat, only for a moment. still holding your hair back, he gently thrusts his tip repeatedly against your lips, shuddering when he feels the groove of the head pop in and out as it catches on your lips. his salty precum coats your tongue, which you kitten lick up straight from the slit. his lips part to let sweet moans drip out, eyeing you down and pleased with his actions.

•he pulls out fully for a moment, fumbling in his front pocket to grab his phone and hitting record with the camera aimed down at you. he smiles wickedly, biting his lower lip.

•"you better suck me off nice and good, doll, or the whole world is gonna see what a little slut you are," he growls, reaching down to grab your chin and angle you upward. you make eye contact with the camera and open your mouth, letting your tongue loll out. johnny places a thumb on your tongue and presses down, admiring the view. his hand moves back down to his cock, stroking it a couple times before smacking it on your cheek.

•"what if someone hears us?" you whisper out, eyelids fluttering. johnny scoffs and rubs himself against your warm tongue again.

•"then they'll know i own you," he replies with a smile. "open." and so you open your mouth even more, and johnny thrusts himself into you again, this time at a less than sweet pace.

•since it's not the first time, you're sure to look up at the camera as he uses your mouth relentlessly. johnny's hand pushes down hard on the back of your head, forcing you to take his full dick down your throat for a couple of seconds. you gag again despite your best attempts to hold your breath, and his head leans back as he lets out a long, breathy moan.

•"you're fuckin' killin' me here," he moans out, head still thrown back. "ohh, you know i hate doin' this to you, but you gotta know not to toy with me. gotta learn your lesson, yeah? yeah?"

•as he asks you, he places a crisp, firm smack on your cheek again with his dick still inside, making you yelp again. the vibration of your voice rattles his shaft and it makes him twitch, his thighs buckling inward. you have to hold onto his hips so you don't topple over.

•after some time of ruthlessly throatfucking you, you feel his thigh muscles tense up and his thrusts grow increasingly more staggered. his cock doesn't reach the back of your throat as rhythmically as it did and he was starting to lean over you, pushing his hands on the sides of your neck to keep him upright. his delicious moans and groans start turning into breathy whimpers as he desperately chases his release. you feel yourself getting lightheaded from the lack of breathing, only able to get gasps of air in between his cock stuffing your mouth. you look straight ahead for a moment and stifle a laugh at a ring of your lipstick painting the base of his dick.

•pocketing his phone momentarily, johnny uses a hand to pull the bottom of his shirt up to his teeth, biting down on it and revealing his gorgeous, glowing torso. his eyes clench shut as he leans forward again with the bundle of cloth in his mouth.

•"— ngh — 'm not having you ruin th' shirt, was expensive — oh, fuck —"

•all you can do is let out pathetic gurgling noises and gasps as you're used like a fleshlight. johnny starts to struggle holding the phone upright, so he hands it to you with shaking hands.

•"hah... you record," he commands breathily, shoving the phone into your palm. at this point too cock-drunk to protest, you flip the camera and angle it toward yourself like a high-angle selfie. you bat your damp lashes as prettily as you possibly can given the circumstances. johnny wipes your dripping mascara with his thumb.

•on a home stretch, johnny picks up the now brutal pace and you try hard to not scrape your teeth along his shaft but it gets increasingly difficult to angle your mouth properly. he bites down hard on the shirt, face scrunching up as he reaches his orgasm.

•leaning over your body, johnny lazily thrusts into your mouth and you feel his hot, sticky semen coat the walls of your throat. he lets out a little gasp at each pulse of his cock, and you take his moment of vulnerability to suck him dry, feeling him throb hungrily. when he's fully emptied, you remove yourself and swallow, confirming the action by opening your mouth and showing the camera. johnny's tip leaks even after pulling out, twitching upward as he rides the final waves of his high.

•johnny lets out a long sigh, running a clean hand through his hair and fixing what strands were stuck to his forehead. his cheeks are flushed and his mouth is agape as he catches his breath. when he feels okay to speak again, he doesn't even look down at you.

•"if... i catch you like that again," he lazily threatens, head tilted back and eyes on the ceiling. "i won't be so nice. are we clear?"

•you swallow the last bit of saliva mixed with his fluid and nod before replying with a clear "yes, sir." johnny looks back down at you, pleased by your once beautifully done hair now ruined from his doing. your mascara ran down your cheeks and your lipstick was barely clinging onto your lips.

•"brought your makeup?" he asks, stuffing his half-hard dick back into his pants. you nod and pull out the makeup you needed to touch up. "good girl. get yourself fixed up, we've been gone a while."

•you lean forward in the bathroom mirror without a word of protest, wiping your face with your fingers and reapplying your makeup to not raise suspicion.

•johnny towers behind you, smoothing down your hair with two hands as he admires you in the reflection. his hands wander a bit, squeezing your breasts from behind as he presses his hips into your ass. he was always uncharacteristically touchy and sweet after intimacy, as if it was a shitty apology for his roughness. he kisses your shoulder, trailing up to your neck and then your cheek.

•"you know i love you, right?" he asks into the soft flesh of your cheek. "nobody else can have you like this. i'll kill anyone that tries. you're mine, sweet thing."

•he wraps his arms around your waist and rocks you gently as you touch up your makeup. he seems pleased that you got your lesson of the night, even though johnny's co-stars were now scouring the red carpet to relocate him. you two just hoped that your flushed cheeks and damp skin disappears before someone started knocking.

•"if you ever try to pull anything with another man, i'm posting that video," he whispers with a sickeningly sweet tone, kissing your cheek and parting from your body. "now come on. i have an interview."

#mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat #johnny cage #johnny cage x reader #mk1 #johnny cage smut #mortal kombat smut

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csuitebitches · 1 year

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How To Build the Woman You Want to Be - 2

Please go through the first part before doing this. It’s imperative that you understand the basics.

Step Five:

We will use Pinterest to visualise your new life so that you can attain it faster. Create a new board “My Story” and start sourcing the following:

* 3 pictures of your ideal hair

* 3 pictures of your ideal body

* 5 pictures of ideal physical accessories (bags, shoes, nails, jewellery, sunglasses… whatever resonates with you)

* 5 ideal outfits you want to own (casual, underwear, red carpet, brunch, pyjamas)

* 3 ideal hobby pictures (ballet? Horses riding? Reading?

* 5 ideal life pictures (meditating, working out, attending events, getting make up/hair professionally done…. Your ideal lifestyle!)

* 5 free time pictures (how you and your friends would hang out; how you and your S/O would hang out; family, pets…)

* 7 ideal home pictures (what’s your aesthetic - minimal/ Woodsy, what would the bathrooms look like, house or apartment…)

* 3 work life pictures (if you want to work - where would you work, what position, etc)

* 5 pictures of your ideal partner (how they would look, where they would work, dress, etc)

* 3 pictures of how you would relax alone (go for a walk with your pet? Massages? Read alone? You get the gist)

* 7 pictures of your ideal vacation

* 4 pictures of your ideal meals (breakfast, lunch, snacks, dinner)

This is your visual diary. Whenever you feel down, not motivated, lazy, go through this board. This board visualises the best version of you. This is your best self (not was, or will be - this is your best self).

If you can print everything out and stick it on your wall - even better. Nothing like seeing exactly who you’re going to be everyday and claiming it!

Step 6:

It’s analysis time. This is probably going to be the most time-consuming part of the work that you have, but also the the first actual building block towards your Ideal Woman.

- Take a look at your New Story.

- As you read it, make a note (maybe write it on a piece of paper) of all the qualities that you see. Written them as keywords as bullet points. Qualities include all things belonging to your ideal personality (respected, kind, decisive…) and ideal skill set (strategic, creative….).

Ex:

• respected

• kind

• strategic

- Then read the story again and start making a separate note (with bullet points and keywords) about your material life (body type, healthy lifestyle, being clean, attending events, brunches, travelling, your hobbies…)

Ex:

• Toned body

• Clean space

• Reading

- Now read your two lists again. Put a tick mark next to the ones you think are realistic but attainable in at least 3 months. Put a heart next to the ones you feel will take more time and levelling up.

Ex:

Qualities:

• respected ❤️

• kind ✔️

• strategic✔️

Material:

• toned body ✔️

• clean space ❤️

• reading ✔️

• attending events ✔️

- The tick marked list is the list you will start working on immediately. Choose any 2 qualities and 3 material life from the tick marked list. We won’t work on all of them at once because you need to build that habit.

Ex:

• Kind

• Strategic

• Toned body

• Reading

• attending events

- For the next 3 months, you will actively work on your 5 to-dos. With your material life - let’s say for example, a certain body type - start working out from tomorrow itself. I don’t care whether it’s YouTube workouts or gym, you’re going to work on that first step. Or if it’s things like attending events - start by attending events and conferences in your industry or what interests you. Look up online for events happening in your city and go for at least one a month. Everything begins with baby steps.

- With your qualities, let’s say you want to be a good conversationalist. Start researching on the tactics of being a good conversationalist. Also search the opposite - how to recognise a bad conversationalist. Read articles, books, journals and scholarly articles. Practice on strangers when you go grocery shopping or at work. You need to put in the work.

- Not only will you work on your 5 to-dos, but you will set monthly goals for them. You will note down everything - in a journal or your notes app or maybe by taking pictures, however you feel comfortable- you need to quantify your progress.

Ex:

This Month’s Goals:

• Kind - tell my friends that I love them and that they deserve all the love

• Strategic - play brain games like chess to improve myself - play at least 2 times a week online

• toned body- work out for 20 days this month

• attending events - go to 2 conferences this month that are happening in my city or online

• Reading - finish one book this month.

- Every month you will check yourself. Only when you’ve accomplished at least 85% of the tasks will you add a new item from the tick marked list or remove an existing item that you finished.

- Every three months you need to go back to the New Story and your Pinterest board with greater detail. How close are you to your goal? If you think you’ve achieved something, give yourself a pat on the back!

The last and final part of this series will be uploaded after two days.

Part 3

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lantsovsliability · 2 years

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the way sadie sink & millie bobby brown have “unintentionally” matched eachother’s outfits at the stranger things red carpet. again. 😩😩

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fancyschmancyopinions · 2 years

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NATALIA DYER at the Fendi SS23 runway show at New York Fashion Week on September 10th 2022 wearing FENDI

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itsgodepi · 7 months

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If I lose my mind | Ch. 4

Series summary: When life has given you more than enough lemons and you cannot figure out how to make a lemonade, the only way to make it work is to get rid of the whole basket. But was it neccesary to send you to a whole different dimension for that? A juicer would have done the job, really. Or, one day you go to sleep as a normal person and the next you wake up as a Formula One driver. You've never been a fan but isn't it like, one of the most exclusive sports? Pairing: CL16, LH44, CS55, DR3 x fem!reader Chapter: Previous | Next Word Count: 2.3k Also on AO3

“And that is the sound of your Grand Prix ending before you’d even formed up on the grid. That is such disappointment”

The commentators' words bounce off your ears like a cacophony, the images of your car coming to a stop on the grass being shown on the screen for the third time in a row since you arrived at the garage. There you are again, jumping out of a Formula One car that has just begun blowing smoke, hand over your heart like that would stop it from breaking out of your ribcage.

How on earth had you been persuaded to sit down on that car yet again, remains a mystery. Nick had come to retrieve you after an hour-long ceremony, hand on your back as he hurried you out and towards the two lines of Formula One cars. Nobody had seemed to be on as much of a rush as him, the rest taking a walk to wherever they had come from while you both were almost sprinting through the road.

You had not even been able to say goodbye to this Lewis guy, who you had been stuck like a lost puppy for the whole ceremony. He had seemed so comfortable there, in the middle of all those people screaming and taking photos of him while he moved around the place with a constant smile on his lips. A natural. You, on the other hand, could only follow his steps as your eyes jumped from one place to another, completely dazed by the situation.

Lewis had not batted an eye at your antics though, had instead kept the conversation going until the presentation started and managed to sneak a few comments and smiles during the show, keeping you calm.

Other people from the private zone had seemed to recognize you as well, greeting you with nice words and wishing you good luck all around. Some of them wore a jumpsuit akin to yours, like the group of men you and Lewis had been talking to, while others were simply dressed in formal clothes. The fact that all their jumpsuits had matched the Formula One cars parked behind you was a clear hint of what would soon start, why would you all be lined up on a red carpet on the middle of this road otherwise? But you were way too nervous to see that.

Yeah, let’s blame the nerves and not the man in that orange jumpsuit who you had been stealing glances at the whole time.

You had expected him to greet you in a similar manner to that of Nick this morning —literally crossing every single boundary that exist between strangers—, but that man had instead chosen to completely ignore you. Well, he had greeted both you and Lewis when you first approached the group, making light conversation with everyone there. But after that, silence. Like nothing had happened the day before, and you being there in the middle of a road surrounded by strangers was a normal thing.

It had reached the point where you wondered if you were mistaking him. It is not like you were in the best state of mind yesterday, to really pay attention to anything other than the clear nervous breakdown you were having either. And he might have been dressed a bit different as well, a bit more rundown and sweatier than now, that’s for sure. Even his hair is now neatly under a matching cap rather than in that mess of curls you saw then. Yet, you would never forget the fear in his eyes as you cried your heart out, or the way he had held you with such care before you lost consciousness.

It has to be him.

The man himself comes to confirm your suspicions later on, when the event comes to an end. He finally appears when Nick and you are nearing the first row of Formula One cars “Okay, don’t be mad” he starts, sliding to your right side and swiftly matching your pace to look at you properly “Just want to know if you’re feeling alright, that’s all”

It takes you a second to realize that he is in fact talking to you, the different conversations around mixing in as you try to navigate the crowd. However, Nick instantly picks up his words “I sent you a message already, doctor said it was the exhaustion”

Nick’s quickness catches off guard, a frown setting on your face when you only manage to nod in confirmation at the other man’s questioning gaze. It is what Nick said in the car earlier today.

The man’s expression sours at that explanation, eyes showing clear as day that he does not agree with any of it. “Yeah, sure, that’s why she was freaking out too, right?” he scoffs, sarcasm and pure irritation dripping out of his words.

Nick does not react to any it though “She’s been good all morning...”, voice calm and collected, as if he had already been expecting some pushback.

The man in orange can only laugh at that, hands coming up to fix the collar of his suit while he shakes his head in disbelief “You and I know she shouldn’t-”

Although his tone was calmer this time, that statement had seemed to be the last straw for Nick, who came to a sudden stop before the man could even finish talking. “Daniel, we’re not talking about this in front of everyone. It’s done”

Now that you are back in the garage, seated with a pair of huge headphones on your ears and surrounded by strangers, you realize that maybe that had been the perfect opportunity for you to step your foot down and stop this nonsense. What better time to demand an explanation that when you were literally in the scene of the crime? Standing between the only two people you had seen before fainting yesterday, the same ones who were now fighting about your condition like you were not even there. They knew something, they had to. The look of uncertainty Daniel had given you before ending the conversation and walking away said as much, his words “We’ll talk later” etched on your brain.

And still, you could not force yourself to act on it.

The race had restarted a couple minutes ago, as shown by every single television on the garage, each one giving a different perspective of the circuit and cars. A Formula One race you would have been participating in if your car hadn’t broken down, which sounds crazy in itself, but your surname being in that list of drivers on the side is what is ticking you off the most. OUT.

Oh, and there it is, you are being shown on screen yet again. This time in an incredible close-up where you look like you have been run over by a truck, hair sticking in every which direction and sweat making your cheeks shine.

When you arrived at the garage, they had suggested for you to sit inside to cool down and relax, that they will call you latter on for the meeting. An offer you had politely refused. You had already committed that mistake once this morning, so no more closed off rooms for you, it is best to be out on the open where you can see everything. However, that also meant everyone could see you. You attracted way more attention that you had expected, your face being plastered in the screens at every possible opportunity while they talked about how unfortunate your exit had been and how attentive you were now watching the race. You had even felt bad about leaving the race at first, the dejected looks, pats on the back and half-hugs from the people in the garage making you almost forget how close to a mental breakdown you were mere minutes ago.

A ball of mixed feelings that follow you throughout the rest of the day, the random strangers appearing out of thin air to comfort you not making any of it much easier to handle. You are completely exhausted, mentally and physically, brain a mush of incoherent thoughts that do nothing but weight you down. No matter how much you think about it, you cannot figure out what is your place in all of this.

Do you even want to find out? It seems much easier to assume that all of this has been a complex dream made up by your overworked brain and that you will wake up in a minute. Just one more minute.

The meeting after the race is calmer, the same people from this morning seated around a table plus a new face, a blond man with the same white jumpsuit as you and who politely smiles when he enters. You do not understand much of what it is said in there, but manage to repeat a diluted version of it at the following round of interviews anyways.

Yeah, interviews... At this point, it’s better not to ask question you will not get answers to.

It is one in the morning when Nick finally walks you back to the hotel, the mechanical sounds of the door unlocking bringing back some of that anxiety you had felt earlier in the day.

“I’ll come pick you up at... eleven,” Nick informs from the corridor, rummaging through that huge bag of his while you lean on the door “I left some food in the fridge, and... here’s your phone”

You mouth forms an ‘O’ at the sight, body acting faster than your mind as you quickly take the device from his hold. Finally, there it is, your way out. You hold it close to your chest, nodding at Nick’s plans for tomorrow without really listening to any of it, your internal screams of joy too loud to focus on things you do not care about.

If everything goes alright, you won’t be here tomorrow.

There is a spring to your step and a smile tugging at your lips when you approach the floor-to-ceiling windows of the room, door locked and phone secure on your hand. It easily switches on, a numeric keypad appearing and disappearing on the screen before you can stress about not having the password.

The caller app is the first thing you open, fingers pressing your mother’s number at lightspeed, tears springing to your eyes from the sheer anticipation while you hold the phone to your ear. One tone, two tones and three until it sends you to the voicemail. You look at the screen in shock, it is true that it’s quite late but...

You silence yourself, forcing yourself to focus before your emotions can get a hold of your thoughts. Instead hanging up the call to type your father’s number. One tone, two tones,…

The tears finally race down your cheeks when you hear the call getting through, “Papá? (Dad?)” a string of voice making its way out your lips.

However, there is no response from the other side of the line, only some distant noise. “Papá, soy yo (Dad, it’s me)” and when an answer finally comes through, the words and the other person’s voice are unrecognizable.

You take a look at the lighted up screen, reading over and over the number you have called, pulling it back to your ear when you are sure you have not made a mistake. It is his number, who is this person? But when you go to ask about it, they have already hung up the call.

What is happening?

You call your mother again, then your father, continuously alternating between the two only numbers you have ever memorized, sobs racking your body when none of them answer. The opportunity to scape gradually disappearing in front of your eyes.

When a message comes saying you cannot reach your father’s number sounds, your body gives out. Hand holding onto the glass for any possible support as you slowly fall down to a seated position on the ground, tears rolling down your face while you listen to the robotic voice.

The night welcomes your sadness like no other, gaze fixed on the darkness outside, vision blurry and teeth gnawing at your lips as you try to hold in your whimpers. You lock your arms around yourself, nails digging into your forearms like that would distract your brain from the emptiness that is consuming you whole.

This does not make sense. You have tried to log into your accounts, from your social media apps to your email, anything that could get you in touch with your friends and family, anyone that could help you. Yet, the same message comes up again and again: the password or username you entered doesn't match our records. Please try again.

The desperation prompts a stupid idea to surge on your mind, an exhausted sigh slipping through your lips while you type your name on the browser, as if some missing report from the police would suddenly pop up. And although you had prepared yourself for some webs with totally unrelated information to appear, what you did not prepare for was to find pages upon pages about yourself.

There are photos and videos of you, a ton of articles talking about the ‘disastrous start of the race’ which have your face plastered all over them. Of course you had noticed the cameras all around and up into your personal space, but you had figured it would be something to be kept private, not that they would be put all over the internet, a literal Google search away.

Still, there are so many images… You cannot even recognize yourself in half of them. What is all of this?

Lower on the search appears your name, written in big bold letters and paired with more photos that you do not remember ever taking, the subtitle reading:

Professional motorsports racing driver.

Next chapter

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Author's note: Thanks for reading! I hope you're enjoying the fic 💚

Taglist: @purplephantomwolf @raye2000 @yuiiimd @drezzerk33 @leclercdream @homie0sapien

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