Honey Curls (Daniel Ricciardo)

THE BOY IN THE PICTURE

Teresa closed the door to Lucas' room after putting him to sleep.

He was still very excited from seeing the F1 cars up close and it had took three Noddy's book stories, and the Patinhos' song on loop, for him to get sleepy.

He had inquired after the race once again, and if he got to see "Sebbie dwive the fast car", and she had given an evasive answer. If she had her way, she wouldn't set foot near the circuit until she was sure they had all vanished to the next location.

She reached for her liquor cabinet and poured herself a much needed glass of port, making her way to the couch and taking the bottle with her.

"What a fucked up day!"

Leaning back on the couch, Teresa sighed. She knew that stepping back into the F1 was nothing but trouble. The memories and the feelings were too much for her to handle. She downed her glass, reaching for a second.

"Look at me. One day in and already a freaking mess!"

The events from that morning were on repeat in her head. She had been on edge ever since being assigned to the Grand Prix. But today, seeing Lucas involved, had been too much.

Teresa knew she had been rude that morning. Rude to Sebastian freaking Vettel, of all people, in front of her own child. "Way to go, Teresa. Way to go..."

Unable to shake the guilt and the paranoia, she had spent the remaining of the day hiding in her office, handling everything through phone and e-mail and passing along all on site tasks to other people on her team.

One freaking day, and she had turned into a rude coward. How was she supposed to survive Sunday?

Groaning in frustration, she got up and went to bed, thanking God over and over again that tomorrow she didn't have to check in at the venue.

XX

Charlotte Safton found Britta Roeske sat at the McLaren's hospitality, two cups of coffee in front of her, while the German typed furiously on her tablet.

Upon hearing her approach, Britta put away her tablet and looked at her worn out appearance – "Rough morning?"

"More like rough day. And by the looks of it, I shall expect a rough weekend altogether."

Britta smirked and pushed one of the coffees in Charlie's direction – "Thought you might need it."

The McLaren's F1 Comms Manager smiled and took a sip – "Have you broke it to Seb?"

"Of course. He doesn't do social media but still he'd find out rather quickly. Although, he's not exactly a compromised part. For all the world knows, he was just being nice to a cute kid." – she took a sip from her own coffee – "What about you? With the amount of comments tagging him..."

Charlie groaned and hid her face in her hands – "He's not the type to be on the phone before the races. I'm actually counting he won't go to Instagram until quali is over. I'm really hoping that this is just one of those weird coincidences, you know? Like the whole Natalie Portman and Keira Knightley's resemblance." – at Britta's wince, Charlie's hopeful face fell – "You don't think it is a coincidence, do you?"

Britta shook her head – "I met the kid's mother yesterday. She was quite agreeable until she saw Seb holding the boy. You could see the panic on her face and in less than five minutes she was out of there."

"Really?"

"Yes. Besides, I overheard the Logistics' team commenting on her. Apparently, this is her first time working a GP but Leonard swears she could give the previous planner a run for her money. How odd is it that a rookie can handle it better than a seasoned pro?"