learn to love - pierre gasly

01

M E R E D I T H

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december 2021

I'm a big fan of nostalgia, the kind that just crushes your heart. This year, or the few days that's left of it, has been nostalgia packed. Ever since my parents announced that they would be selling the Rouen house I keep remembering my upbringing. This house has everything, I hate to see it go.

By now, most of the furniture was packed, but my room was still untouched. I thought I should give it a proper send off. I walk up the stairs, holding the light wood rails, staring up at the glass chandelier. I make it into my room at the end of the hallway. Everything is like I left it, it's a bit unsettling, making it feel as if no time has passed at all. I look through my desk to see if I want to keep any pictures, I find many of me and my brother when we were young. There's some of me with my grandparents, before they passed. And my heart skips a beat when I see a stack of journals.

"The Dare Diaries" was written on one of them, in the worst handwriting in existence, Pierre, my brain speaks. On top of the journal are a stack of photos, held together by a rubber band. They were all taken by me, there were at least seven of them that were of Pierre's racing car. The rest were of him and a few of me. I put the journal and all the pictures I collected into my bag, and locked up the house, putting the key behind some wall art (Maman and Papá thought that under the mat was too predictable). I take back what I said about nostalgia, it sucks. It hurts, it brings back the past, and the "what if's".

A G E    F I F T E E N

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july 2011

"Does more racing mean less dares?" Meredith asked solemnly,

"Possibly," Pierre said, fixing his hair. He had just finish a race and was all sweaty, not to mention how his hair wasn't listening to him,

"It's a bit upsetting, no?" Meredith remarked,

"I don't know what you mean, Mere,"

"I mean that as we grow, your racing becomes a greater priority," Meredith continued, "How will we ever have time for ourselves anymore?"

"Well you have time," Pierre wasn't happy with what his friend was talking about, "It's me who has the pressure of training and practices," Mere's smile drops slightly, she didn't intend for this to be a fight,

"That's not what I meant," she sighed, "I'll just miss how it used to be," she stood up and walked away. Pierre had to travel for more races, he never called to check up on Meredith, he convinced himself it was because he was focused on his career. Meredith expected to be contacted, but it never happen. All friendships die, but this one died fast and left all too much damage.

M E R E D I T H

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may 2022

Monaco is a great place to live, it's so alive. I moved here after my parents left Rouen, even though we live in the same country we live very separate lives. To start with, I have my very own flat and my very own job. Sure, being an influencer isn't every parents dream for their child, but my parents are pretty chill with it. They only required I go to university and graduate, which I did. Degree in economics, it's pretty useless right now, but I'll use it if I need to.

What I'm passionate about is sharing stuff online, having a platform. It's been a very advantageous job, the only time I hated my job was when someone asked me about Pierre. Thinking about it makes me cringe, I remember that he even replied to what I had said. That was the first time he'd acknowledged me in ten years, not that I've been keeping track.

I noticed I was running low on ingredients, I'm a huge baker, I also love to cook. It was about time I got some food from the supermarket, I might even invite my parents for dinner tonight. I grab my handbag and put on some shoes and begin to walk to the store, everything in Monaco is in walking distance. Well, not everything, but I don't have my own car and I find walking therapeutic.

I'm scanning the aisles, on my way here I decided to make a lemon chicken recipe. I started listing off the ingredients to make it easier to find what I needed, chicken, lemons, rosemary, garlic, rice... and then my brain nearly explodes. I see Charles first, yes, Charles Leclerc, which only means one thing. Pierre Gasly was standing in front of me for the first time in years. They're accompanied by a camera and a cameraman which can only make this situation worse. Pierre looks up, and his face changes, shit, I was hoping he wouldn't recognize me. He says something to the camera guy and he stops filming, I walk the other way, trying to escape.

"Meredith?" I hear him ask softly, I turn around slowly,

"Pierre," I grind my teeth,

"What are you doing here?"

"Buying food," I deadpan,

"No," he shifts around awkwardly, "I mean what are you doing in Monaco?" God, the audacity of this guy,

"I live here," I try not to roll my eyes, "I should be asking why you're here,"

"It's the Grand Prix," he says like I should know that, "Do you not keep up with F1?"

"No," I suck in a breath, "I don't," he doesn't look happy,

"That's strange," he starts, "But since you're here," he hands me two passes, "They're passes to enter the GP, like a paddock pass,"

"Okay, but why are you giving me these?" I demand,

"They're extras," wow how thoughtful,

"I'm busy tonight, sorry," I shove the passes back,

"You can't return a gift," he steps back, dick,

"Can I bring anyone I want?" I smirk with an idea,

"Yes, anyone," he replies innocently,

"Great I'm sure Sam is free," I smile and walk away. Pierre hates Sam, with a passion. I remember from when we were kids, Sam would always say how Pierre would never make it into F1. He was wrong, obviously, but this is my chance at revenge and I'm sure as hell going to take it.