𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒, charles leclerc

chapter seven

        victoria and juliet sat down on the couch in the hotel room, ready to chat and hang out for the next hour or so while their brothers and friends played video games. the girls hadn't seen each other since the monaco grand prix, and a lot had happened in that time.

victoria ran into the washroom and left juliet out in the main room area. juliet sat in silence on her phone until she was distracted with the dinging of victoria's phone as messages came in one after another. she sat up to grab it and put it on silent, when she read the name of who was texting. the contact name "lando ❤️" appeared on the screen and juliet's face dropped. before she went as far as snooping, she flipped it over and slouched back into her spot.

the brunette russell soon emerged from the washroom and sat down beside her friend. juliet wasn't going to wait any longer. "so, how long have you and lando been dating and why didn't you tell me?" she blurted out and shoved her phone into the couch cushions to give her full attention.

"what the fuck? how'd you know? am i that obvious? fuck, i can't let george find out just yet..." the british girl stammered at the thought of george finding out. "no, you weren't that obvious...i saw his name on your phone," juliet reassured her.

victoria sighed in relief that her brother didn't know about her new relationship with lando. "i'm sorry i didn't tell you, it's...a new thing. we promised we wouldn't say anything so it wouldn't get out to the public. a williams driver's sister dating a mclaren driver isn't exactly the nicest headline."

juliet nodded and realized that the reason she hadn't told her was completely and utterly valid. people in the media are monsters. she tried to picture the pair together, as a couple, walking through the paddock with no media attention; it was an almost impossible image to create.

"it's okay, i totally get it," the gasly said, "but for the record you guys look so cute together. i can picture you two as a couple so vividly."

this new thing between victoria and lando had really only started about six months ago. over the summer break, lando stayed over at the russell's estate in northern england and he and victoria just had a spark. they tried to navigate their budding romance away from george, and had been quite successful. "thanks," she blushed.

"how have you hidden everything from george? i mean, lando is his best friend," juliet asked. brother's best friend—the most cliche trope in the book. juliet had assumed—after her romance novel readings—that the level of secrecy attached to those types of relationships was appealing and fun for both parties. she just wanted to know if that was the case in reality.

"i don't know how we managed...i guess we're very good at keeping things secret and private," the brunette answered, "it's kind of fun. and scary of course."

"i could never do that. pierre would find out immediately. thank god i don't have that type of relationship with any of his friends," juliet added and thought out loud.

victoria didn't buy it. "you're telling me that you don't think a single f1 driver is attractive? pierre's buddies with everyone!"

"no, no, no," juliet stammered, almost too quick. victoria saw a look in her expression, but chose to ignore it. she would let her friend navigate all of that on her own; nagging her about it would just make it worse.

———

silverstone was absolutely booming. on the weekend of the british grand prix, the race track was the best place to be in all of great britain. it would make for a busy and thrilling few days—but sundays were always the best.

the two mercedes of bottas and hamilton occupied the first row of the grid, with leclerc and verstappen right behind them in p3 and p4, respectively. pierre had a great qualifying on saturday, starting right behind his teammate in p5.

juliet and victoria found their seats in the VIP grandstand, right above the mclaren garage. since nobody knew lando and victoria were together, he managed to get both sisters seats so they wouldn't have to choose between red bull or williams. they got their drinks and placed them on the small table in front of them, standing up to look at all the crew members crowding around the cars as they waited on the grid for the formation lap to begin.

the formation lap came to a quick end and the drivers started their engines as the red lights lit up one by one; the race was on. the front of the race was already a battle, with bottas battling his teammate to keep his first place position. it was soon given up to lewis hamilton by lap 4, with charles and max verstappen battling for third for the first dozen laps. pierre stayed close behind them in fifth, waiting for a chance to zoom past both rivals.

a simultaneous pit stop for both charles and max occurred at lap 14, with red bull coming out on top and changing the car's tyres first allowing max to emerge in third place. juliet clenched as charles inched closer to max, finally overtaking him.

the race continued and pierre was able to zoom into fourth place after max and sebastian vettel collided and spun off track. in came the checkered flag, with the podium finishes consisting of lewis hamilton in p1, valtteri bottas in p2, and charles in the final spot. juliet was especially excited about pierre's amazing p4 finish, as he had finally outraced his teammate and shown red bull that he wasn't just a bad driver there to help the team showcase max as a superhero.

juliet ditched victoria and ran downstairs to find her brother. p4 was the best he'd placed in his entire f1 career, so she was ecstatic for him. she arrived at his garage and found him standing at a computer, taking off his helmet and gloves. she carefully walked through the equipment and crew members and jumped on his back, startling him. "p4! fantastique!" she exclaimed.

pierre turned around and pulled off his earpieces, dropping them on the table. he grinned widely and engulfed juliet in a tight hug.

"i'm so proud of you pierre."

— notes!
i've been in a very
weird F1 mood today
i've brought it up like
twelve separate times