𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒, charles leclerc

chapter fourteen

the hungarian grand prix had come to an end, and it was finally time for spa: both pierre and charles' favourite track. sunday afternoons called for packing up rooms and the mechanics leaving for the next race, with drivers and team principals either choosing to follow or stay behind for a quick debrief. that's where pierre was now; he had a meeting with christian horner and helmut marko.

victoria had said goodbye as she left with george and the williams team earlier. she promised that today would be the day she told him about her and lando. the race had been okay; pierre finished in p6 and max in p2, with charles right in the middle of the two red bull's in p4. p6 was a very good finish in the race (and included points for the championship), but pierre knew that in comparison to max, he wasn't doing well enough.

juliet now sat in her hotel room bathroom, leaning against the vanity as she stared deep into the mirror while she applied her mascara. she had finished the rest of her face, now meticulously trying to not get any of the black liquid anywhere but her lashes.

harry styles' debut album blasting through the room, juliet sat in thought about where she was going and what she was about to do. she was going out for dinner with charles. this mini date—don't tell charles she'd classified it as that—had been delayed for the entire weekend. she had built it up to a point where she was excited. as long as pierre never found out, she could do whatever she pleased; she was a grown woman and had authority over her own life.

there was a part of her who was screaming for her ten-year-old self. she was going out with charles, something she yearned for back then. he was the first boy she ever loved—or at least classified as that at the age of ten. back then, she was convinced charles didn't even know she really existed.

she heard a knock on the door and clicked pause on her music, startled by the sound. the pair hadn't planned to meet for another thirty minutes, and she wasn't expecting anyone else. she sprung up from the bed and trotted over to the door, swinging it open to find pierre. with dry tears under his eyes.

"pierre? que s'est-il passé?" her face dropped at the sight and he just stood, frozen. she looked down at his hands and saw a rolled up piece of paper. what the fuck happened?

"they demoted me," he mumbled out, still standing there. juliet's eyes widened at the three words. "i'm starting the next grand prix back at toro rosso."

juliet didn't say a word as he let out a huff of air and squeezed the paper in his hand. she didn't know what to say. she stepped forward and engulfed him in a hug, waiting until he reluctantly reciprocated it. he nuzzled his head into her neck, and she heard a soft, quiet cry.

letting go of her brother, juliet pulled him inside and shut the door. he walked over to her bed and sat on it, cursing to himself to stop crying.

"w-what did they say? who's replacing you?" were the first two questions to fall out of juliet's mouth. pierre sighed and gulped, mumbling "alex. they said i haven't been performing to the level they need in a red bull driver and that alex should get the team the results they need. the full statement is being released in an hour."

"let's get one thing straight: they're fucking wrong. you're the best driver i know, pierre," she sincerely said, taking a seat beside him on the bed. pierre had always been a solid driver. he was brought up to red bull only ten races ago, and was presenting the team with great results. but that's the thing with red bull; great isn't enough to them. in order to compete with mercedes and ferrari, they needed both drivers in the top five every single race. and right now max was the only thing they had going for them.

"yeah, yeah...i don't think this is gonna make me feel any better," he rolled his eyes, "i just want to stay here. if that's fine with you. can we just watch something?"