somewhere || George Russell

fifty-four

June 8, 2020
New York City, New York

A pair of strong arms wrapped around Laurel's waist, hugging her from behind. She didn't take long to guess who it was, and she instantly turned around to hug him. "How is my favorite Tony Award winner doing?" George asked and kissed the top of her head before separating their embrace.

"I'm fine," Laurel widely smiled. "The real question here is: how is my favorite Formula 1 winner doing?"

"Better now that I see you," he smiled back and pecked her lips. "You know, this weekend's Grand Prix is in Canada so I thought I could make a small stopover to visit you."

"And Montreal is just an hour and a half from here," Laurel wiggled her eyebrows. Suddenly she had the best idea ever imagined. "Oh my god, I can even go with you to this Grand Prix!" she excitedly screamed, forgetting at all that they were standing in the middle of the Maracay lobby.

"What?" George blinked a few times, trying to process what Laurel said.

"Yes. What time is the race?"

"Mmm, 2:10 in the afternoon," George remembered.

"You see? I can take a flight on Sunday morning, be there at 2:10 and then come back right after the race which, if my math is right, will finish at 4:10 pm," she said, still excited. "Then I'll be back in New York no later than six, and the show is at eight. No one will ever notice I left the city."

"Sounds like a great idea," George nodded, completely agreeing. "But a flight is more than just getting on a plane, you have to be at least two hours before..."

"I can use my dad's private jet," Laurel shrugged.

George's eyes widened. "You have a private jet?"

"Sure," she nodded. "Do you really think my siblings travel all around the country in commercial flights?" she raised an eyebrow.

He thought about it for a second. "Of course not," he shook his head.

"It's just a small Bombardier," Laurel explained. "Let's go..." she said and pulled his hand to drag him to the elevator and head to her penthouse. It's almost eleven in the night.

"But wait," George stopped. "Isn't it going to be tiring?"

"I don't care," she effortlessly said and turned to see him in the eyes. Her big, green eyes were sparkling. It was almost impossible to tell her no.

"This is so crazy," George nervously chuckled. "And I don't know if I will drive for Mercedes again..."

"I don't care if you are at the top or at the bottom of the grid, I want to be with you anyway," Laurel shook her head. "I love you, and I am willing to do irrational things to prove it."

"I don't need you to prove it," George frowned.

"I know," Laurel cheekily smiled and continued her way to the elevator, with George following her.

They called for the elevator and got inside once it arrived. George stared at her. It was unbelievable that she was really willing to do it. His only thought was that he must have done something right to deserve her, a confident, beautiful, talented girl.

The short journey to the top floor ended and they got out of the metallic box, walking straight to the door of Laurel's penthouse. She opened the doors with her keycard and they finally entered.

Papers were all scattered around Laurel's penthouse dining table. Her silver MacBook was turned on, showing files and more files, with a gazillion pages opened on the Safari. Her iPad was on the table, and in general, the living room was a mess.

"What is all of this?" George confusedly asked and approached the table, with the intentions of getting his hands on the papers.

"Gloria Estefan sent me the script of On your feet," Laurel naturally answered.

"But..." George stammered. "She would only give you the script if..." Laurel stared at him and nodded, with a big smile growing on her face. "You got the part?"

"Yes," she screamed. "She let me know yesterday before the Tony's, it was actually right after you crossed the line in first place."

George's jaw dropped, and the only thing he could do was to open his arms again and wrap her in another big and warm hug. "And why you didn't tell me when we had that FaceTime call?" he asked as they separated from the hug.

"Because it was your moment," Laurel shrugged. "This morning I called her to say I accept it and she sent me the script and schedule."

"Don't you need time to think about it?"

"No," she confidently nodded and smiled. "For once, I will put more heart than brain."

"This is a lot of heart," George nodded and looked down on the table, just about to take one sheet of paper on his hands and read it.

"No, you can't read it," Laurel stopped him and began to gather all the sheets of paper, even if they were in disorder, and arranged them in a small pile.

"What do you mean? I am going to watch this show at least a hundred times in the West End, I need to know the story," he teasingly rolled his eyes and helped her collect the papers.

"This is confidential," Laurel put the pile of papers on the table, away from George's reach.

"Can't you give me a small sneak peek?" he asked, with an innocent smile on his face.

Laurel slightly rolled her eyes. "Fine," she gave up and looked for a sheet with a song in it. She read the random song she picked, and a soft giggle rolled out of her lips. "How funny, I won't get to actually sing this in the show."

"Why not?"

"This song is sung by Emilio Estefan and Gloria's mother," she remembered. She saw this show like five times when it was on Broadway, she remembers every single scene. "Fun fact, this is an original song written by Gloria Estefan herself and her daughter, especially for the musical."

"Really?" George asked. He loves to hear how excited she gets when talking about her favorite things. "But go on."

Laurel nodded and smiled, he is not giving up, he really wants the sneak peek. "Don't think that you have all the time in the world to tell someone the reasons you love them; with one twist of fate all the words in your heart, they never hear, what's the sense of waiting?" George leaned his back on the dining table and Laurel approached. "Until it's too late to say it, much like a game, we play it, when we choose to keep it all inside. Until it's too late, forever, we run out of all whenevers, and this just might be our last goodbye..." Laurel brushed her lips with his before giving him a long-lasting kiss full of emotions. George wrapped his arms around Laurel's waist, and she cupped his face with her hands, separating her lips from his. "If I never got to tell you all the ways you made me happy, that the dreams you've been fulfilling are fulfilling my dreams too..."