𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐯𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐬 [charles leclerc]

chapitre unze

Author's note:

Hello dearest readers, with this sidenote I wanted to take a quick moment to address the possibility of a similar work(s) to this one. I want to disclose that I do not quite appreciate my discourse being taken or copied without my consent—period.

And to end this short moment on a more positive note I wanted to thank every one of you for the great support! This story is already over 35k reads which is unbelievable. Know that I am grateful for every read, comment, and vote. Bless yous.

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       EXHAUSTING WAS ONE way to describe everyone's week, and the weekend filled with free practice, qualifications, and racing had yet to start. Colette, on the other side of Europe, could be found with her nose within her study material the days that followed her impromptu trip to Milan, Fabian had been doing his best to support his girl friend whilst being hangover each morning after partying with the rich, and their friends in the motorsport were preparing for the sixth race of the season: Baku, Azerbaijan.

The Monegasque girl did live up to her promise to the McLaren driver she had made two weeks prior, making up for her absence from the Grand Prix of Monaco by being present in the transcontinental country. One would have to disregard the fact that she had her last final on Friday and could only fly out to Baku on Saturday; Colette had promised she would attend the race, she never agreed to the free practices, or the complete qualification for that matter.

After arriving in her hotelroom, Colette quickly slung her paddock pass around her neck after diving into her luggage to find her favourite AlphaTauri jacket. The second qualification session had already started and she wanted to get to the circuit as quick as possible. A taxi with tinted windows awaited her downstairs next to the valet and drove her to the track within fifteen minutes time. Those fifteen minutes, however, crossed over with the last qualifying session of the race tomorrow. Reason why the girl paid no mind to the city she passed by and focused her eyes completely on her phone where the Formula 1 cars chased around the circuit for the perfect, but most importantly quickest, lap—squealing in excitement at the performances.

The girl was not as familiar around the layout of the paddock that was build in the city of Baku as she was in Monaco. Backstage it was bustling with engineers, reporters, and fans, all supporting the different colours from the distinct Formula 1 teams. Her eyes swiftly glided over the swarm of people, finally finding the acquainted navy blue and white on the polos of a few mechanics rounding the corner next to Aston Martin. Colette hurried after them, as gracious as possible because there were cameras everywhere, and sure enough Pierre Gasly stood there talking to his performance coach, Pyry. He was hydrating with a Red Bull can after the three qualifying sessions whilst listening to the man talking, his suit zipped down to his waist, before he noticed his girl friend rushing to his side with a big, proud grin resting on her lips.

"I'm calling it, you're going to be on the podium tomorrow." The girl tried to swing her right arm around the shoulders of her taller French friend, earning a roaring laugh in response.

"Colette!" He was quick to shrug off her arm and pull her in for a tight embrace. "How did your exams go?"

"Absolutely horrible, completely blacked out—and not because of alcohol like usually." Colette shook her head, rather not thinking about the possible results for her finals.

"Then we shall black out tomorrow in the right way, hm?" He raised his eyebrow with a playful glint in his blue eyes, ruffling her hair before they trailed the short distance from the AlphaTauri garage to the motorhome. "If you just jinxed my podium I'm going to be very upset."