George changed.
Carla doesn't know when it happened, how or even where, but he has. He's not the same man she fell in love with five years ago.
Lando's the one who noticed first, the thought whispered to her when George had plucked the wine out of...
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I think I'm giving up on this team.
Maybe I should've listened to Ambers skeptical warnings all the way at the start of last season. Maybe I should've taken Christian up on his offer to play second to Max.
All I know is that these upgrades aren't working and we all know it. Just nobody's ready to admit it yet. It's why the best case scenario in the strategy meeting, that I may aswell have not have attended, included a 'best case scenario' of making Q2 in todays qualifying.
I could be fighting for wins.
I can fight for wins.
I should be fighting for wins!
I tug the orange cap further over my head, speed walking from the Mclaren motorhome to the Alpine one. I'm hoping of catching a pep talk from Amber, having her here (even if not at every race) this year has been sanity saving. Especially on days like today where I just want to punch a wall in frustration that the car isn't where I, nor Oscar, need it to be. Sometimes mid meeting I look over to see the guy, the poor kid running frustrated hands over his eyes as he's pawed at for answers that neither of us have. He should taken the Alpine deal and ran - he knows it.
The car's just embarrassingly slow and there's nothing we can suggest. It's why we're battling so hard for mere points.
It's the call of my name from a fan that gets me to raise my gaze at the exact right moment. I smile in the direction of the call, eyes meeting that of the young boy who shouted before falling onto the woman stood about five feet behind.
Carla.
She's stood there, Mercedes grey umbrella in her free hand as she looks around the paddock almost in a daze. I raise my hand in a wave but she doesn't wave back, I don't think she even sees me. She's too busy kicking at her feet against the hard concrete floor and glaring at the screen of her phone.
It takes that much convincing for me to adjust my route.
"You lost?" Is the words I open with, I almost feel embarassed by them when Carla's eyes snap to me. A look of complete shock on her face.
"No!" The word is snapped in reply to my question, as if a reflex. She looks alarmed until her eyes focus on me properly, immediately when she sees who it is she softens. Carla's shoulders sag a little, unwinding, a small smile falling onto her face instead of the tight expression she was previously wearing "No, sorry." She repeats the denial a little softer, eyes softer, apology genuine. I can't help but shrug in response. "I just have..." I raise my eyebrow in intrigue before Carla just sighs heavily.
"I have no idea where to go." Carla admits. Her voice quiet, looking to me then at those surrounding us. I can hear the boy that I waved at just moments ago chatting away to whoever he's with excitedly and the brief click of a camera. Behind me there must be a handful of people with cameras or phones pointed in the direction of our conversation, around here there always is. And Carla hates it, I can tell by the tense smile her lips hold and the flicker of her eyes to the people close by.
