Hopelessly Devoted ☆ Pierre Gasly

XXI

Juliette was looking around, but caught herself looking at one person in particular. There was just something about him... Juliette wasn't thinking about anything when she looked at him; she just looked at him - or she tried to convince herself she didn't think about anything. He barely changed; his hair was kinda the same, his face was the same, he just got facial hair. The way he laughed was the same, he still had that bright smile that made you automatically smile. Juliette was biting on the inside of her cheek and took a deep breath. He is just beautiful and that smile...

It was the evening after the race in Silverstone. Mercedes could call themselves the big winner. Lewis was the winner and Valtteri the runner up. The Mercedes crew decided to have dinner at a restaurant to celebrate the win. More teams were having dinner for their reason, whether it was positive or not. The Racing Point crew, Williams and McLaren, were also having dinner at the same restaurant, just like Red Bull and Pierre Gasly. Red Bull sat across from Mercedes, giving Juliette a good view of Pierre.

"Juliette, I haven't heard you yet," one of the mechanics said.

Juliette blinked a few times and sighed, but she kept looking in front of her. "No, that's right. I haven't spoken yet." She looked at the mechanic and gave him a fake smile. A few laughter filled the table on the comment. "What's up?"

"Nothing much," he replied. "Just wondering why you are so quiet. You normally talk a lot. Just checking if you're alright."

"I'm fine, thanks," she said and gave him a genuine smile. "Just processing the weekend."

"Good."

Juliette grabbed her drink and took a sip. Her eyes fell on Delilah, whose eyebrows were raised. "What?"

"Nothing," Delilah replied suspiciously. "I know who is sitting behind us." She took a big sip. "And you're staring so obvious at him."

"I have no idea about what and whom you're talking about," Juliette coldly replied.

"Keep saying that, sweetheart."

"Shut up."

A new conversation started between the people, sharing some thoughts on buying a house, the stock market for some reason and moments of this weekend. Juliette didn't feel like being part of the conversation; she rather listened than being the one who had to speak up. She sometimes said something, but not much.

The eyes of Juliette glided over the people, making her look at her dad. She didn't see him before. Edward raised his eyebrows and signed she had to come over to him.

"If you will excuse me," she mentioned her colleagues and got up. A part of her didn't mind going over to her dad, but her socialise battery was beginning to run out of energy. She walked over to her dad. "Good evening," she greeted the Red Bull crew. "Hey, pal," she said to her dad.

"Hey, mate," Edward replied. "It is grandpa's birthday today," he informed. "Have you congratulate him yet?"

Juliette's eyes widened, and she looked around. Panic flowed through her body, her grandpa's birthday? Her lips parted, and she tried to remember his birthday. "That's tomorrow, right?"

"No, today."

"Fuck," she whispered. "I forgot." She locked her eyes with her dad's. "I swear, it's tomorrow. It can't be today," Juliette said convincingly but was stressing the crap out of her. "It is tomorrow, right?"

"I don't know," Edward said doubtfully and grabbed his phone. "I thought it was today, but I am gonna look it up for you. I forgot it as well. I just remembered it." It was silence. "Oh, it's tomorrow."