She tosses and turns all night, and the night that follows as well, Lewis's words playing on a loop, echoing loudly in her head every time she closes her eyes. She must have dozed off at one point though, because when she wakes up on Saturday, Charles is already dressed in his Ferrari polo and jeans, sitting on the couch in their hotel room, his gaze fixed on his notebook. He probably knows every piece of data by heart, but this is part of his routine before qualifying, one she has no intent of messing up. They exchange a few words, their exchange polite but strained, until she leaves to meet Pierre for breakfast in the lobby.
Emily forgets all about Mia as she talks to her best friend, sipping a nice cup of tea and trying local pastries. They reminisce while they eat, laughing loudly at the memories of their childhood, like that time where she'd said something nasty about his karting abilities, and he'd retaliated by hiding her school backpack in the computer room at school. It'd taken her two whole days to find it, and she still remembered how annoyed her mom had been at her.
"How do you feel about qualifying?" she asks as she reaches for her cup of tea.
"Pretty good. We worked really hard on the car, and practice went well. So fingers crossed. And you?"
"I feel great. I feel like I have a strong chance of overtaking Lewis this weekend," she jokes.
He rolls his eyes at her and she sticks out her tongue. "Very funny."
"Seriously, I'm fine, Pierre. Charles and I are still working it out, I guess."
"How do you feel about it? Do you want to try something again with him?"
Well, that's the million dollar question, isn't it? She could give the watered-down answer that's on the tip of her tongue, but surprisingly, she doesn't.
"I don't know if that's smart, or if it's gonna come back to bite me in the ass, but I still love him, you know? That hasn't changed. And it'll take time for me, for us, to get there again, but I think I want to try..."
She bites her lower lip as she faces her bestfriend, worried about how he'll react.
"Have you told him that?"
"Not yet. We'll talk after the race."
"Good. I can't wait for you guys to figure your shit out." She leans across the table to hit him in the arm but he's got nothing but good reflexes. "What? It's true, you guys are so fucking in love even a blind person can see it!"
She chuckles and shakes her head, giddy to see him so supportive, despite all the shit that's happened lately.
"Alright, whatever you say, Gasly. I'm outta here. Bye!"
"I'll see you at the track!"
When Emily gets back to her hotel room, Charles's not there but it doesn't come as a surprise. He's probably with Andrea, working out on some last-minute details. She hurries to do her makeup and puts on some comfortable sneakers. Looking at the time, she sends a quick text to Charles to let him know she'll be waiting for him outside and makes her way downstairs.
Fans from all around Europe are waiting in front of the hotel, only separated by a couple of security guards and barriers. When some of them recognize her, they yell out her name, waving their Ferrari merch at them. She smiles and waves, but doesn't come closer. Honestly, she's still a bit weirded out by the fact that they know her enough to recognize her. When they let out a deafening scream, she turns around and sure enough, Charles gets out of the lobby and straight to them, smiling brightly. She watches from the stairs as he signs hats and shirts, taking selfies and offering some words to his dedicated fans. Mia follows him closely, until they reach his car and he gets in. Emily is about to go down the stairs when Mia locks eyes with her and fucking smirks. For a second, she's confused, frowning at the PR manager. What? But then, everything becomes clear when she opens the passenger door and sits next to Charles. She sees them exchange a few words, and can't do anything but watch, mouth agape, as Charles sticks the key in the ignition and drives past her.
