Not My Sister - Charles Leclerc

Chapter 17

It's lights out and away we go.

Clarisse took a seat in the Ferrari's side of the paddock alongside with Sebastian's family. His wife Hanna, and the kids were there as well. They watched the race together excitedly through the TV. David Croft and Michael Brundle's voices could be heard from the screen.

The first laps were intense, with the two Mercedes leading in the front of the grid. Charles had a little trouble at the beginning since he started in the midfield, and the track was rather narrow for overtaking. Heart racing, they all passed the famous Grand Hotel Hairpin.

Charles saw a gap right beside Norris and took the opportunity to overtake him from the outside, up to no success.

Lando saw it in the mirror as he felt his rear and Charles' front got into a bit of a contact. But it wasn't very dangerous since they were at a slow speed for the narrow hairpin.

The Monegasque in number sixteen clicked his tongue behind his helmet. Adrenaline was rushing through his veins. This is his home race. This race should be his.

It's only one lap. Nothing could go wrong.

Or so he thought.

The second lap was smooth. Back at the Grand Hotel Hairpin again, he was up against Norris once again. But this time he managed to get through from the inside, successfully stealing the 13th place from Norris.

Clarisse's heart sank when she saw the two almost touch again, but thankfully they didn't. She just wished for the race to end quickly, for all the drivers to finish with a safe race. Who wins in the end didn't really matter to her.

"The Ferrari has got through the defense of Romain Grosjean. Didn't pay off there, and Leclerc did get through-" the commentator said. Charles was at P12 in the seventh lap. Clarisse clasped her hands together, hoping that this might be a good sign for him.

In the next two laps, Leclerc tried to do the same move again on the very same turn where he overtook Romain, but this time against Hulkenberg. But, heck, that was an absolute failure. Everyone could see his rear hit the back of the barrier and spun his car a little, thankfully it wasn't fatal. But he lost a couple of positions because of that.

Oh how wrong they were.

"We have a puncture," the voice of Charles' race engineer could be heard and it was only one lap after the incident. This cannot be true.

Clarisse shut her eyes after seeing it through the screen; Charles' rear-right tire was shredded and he was losing speed drastically.

"He's ripping his own floor. He has to come back slowly. He's angry, he's frustrated, he's dissecting his own car. It's gotta be almost a walking pace." it was the commentator again.

Oh, no, no, no....

Does he have to retire his car in this state?

But thankfully he got to the pit safely for repair but of course he's already lost much time and positions. By the time he was released from the pit, he's at the very back of the grid. What a heartbreaking sight to see.

Well, at least he can start again. There's still a lot of laps to go. She thought.

He started again at the back, chasing his pace relentlessly. He didn't even say anything but anyone who's watching could see his frustration and determination burning through his drive. It was all so well in the start. How could he even get to this point, really?

It all started to look like we could hope for a miracle, but reality struck hard and it was bitter. Charles had to retire his car due to an engine problem. Retiring once again in his home race. Number sixteen was no longer on the track. What a devastating ending.

Clarisse watched him as he jumped out of the car and took off his helmet in a quick swift, alongside his balaclava as well. He avoided the camera quickly, even pushed one of them away when they got to close. Then his frame disappeared from the garage. He was clearly upset.

She bit her lip in hesitation. Should she confront him in this state, or would he prefer some time alone? Now the hope of the team was left with Sebastian Vettel who was holding a pretty good position on the grid. Hanna said sorry to Clarisse about Charles' retirement from the race. "It's okay... things happened," was her reply. She managed to put up a thin smile.

Clarisse excused herself to go get some air towards the paddock's terrace. The race didn't feel the same anymore with Charles' absence. Perhaps she was biased in the first place? Which kinda makes sense because he's a relative... or a close friend... or whatever. What was she even thinking now?

Before she knew it, a group of 4 or-so reporters quickly walked towards her, alongside their cameras and other equipment. Were they really walking towards her or was she just imagining things?

When they really stopped in front of her and asked some questions when looking directly at her face, she realized: she should've run away sooner. She wasn't ready for this. What the heck is happening?

"Clarisse, a moment please?" one of the reporters asked her.

She opened her mouth to reply before another one cut her. "What do you think about Charles' retirement?"

"This is a home race for him yet he couldn't finish again just like last year. As a close contact for the driver, what are your thoughts?" another one butted in as well.

"Wait, wait, hold on." shit, she's afraid that she's going to make a mistake by answering this. She got to find away as soon as possible, but how?

Busy thinking of an escape route, something, or rather someone brushed past her shoulder in a quick movement. "No comment at the moment, please. Thank you." the voice said.

Took her a second to realize that it was Charles who stepped in front of her. His tall figure turned back and looked down at her before dragging her away from the media. They still followed after them and asked them questions without their consent.

She could hear Charles' groaned silently beside her. "These rude people." Noticing that she heard him, he turned his head and leaned towards her a little. "You don't need to answer them," he said in a calm manner, but she could still see the disappointment in his eyes. Clarisse just silently nodded.

They finally arrived in a secluded space, away from anyone else in the Ferrari's own motorhome. "Finally," she sighed while sitting down on the sofa. It was Charles' private room in the motorhome that he actually never uses. He only puts his stuff there when they're needed on the track.

Seeing her settling down nicely, he smiled a bit to himself and turned his body away, ready to exit the room. "Wait," her voice stopped him. "Where are you going?"

Honestly, Charles didn't know. All he knew that he wanted to be alone. He didn't have the courage to look at anyone. "I can't even look at you right now." His manager, his trainer, anyone else on the team. He disappointed everyone. He was embarrassed.

Oh, Charles...

Clarisse stood up and turned his limp body, now facing her. His build was strong against her embrace, but that body felt lifeless. "Don't say that," she continued to hug him and circled a pattern on his broad back. She could feel him relaxing and leaned down into the hug to match her height.

"It's all part of the process," she tried to form the words carefully in her mind before saying them. "It's not your fault," she pulled away a little so she could see his face. "There's always something to learn from it. It's okay." she smiled at him, but his eyes were still empty and bitter. They made her want to hug him again, so she did. "Everything's gonna be okay." She patted his hair lightly.

Charles didn't say anything, yet he returned her hug. He embraced her tightly as if all of his hope depended on her. She later noticed there was a huge bruise on his left fist, more like on his knuckles. She pulled it towards her face and inspected it.

"What happened here?"