I KNOW PLACES | George Russell

27. tightrope

Spain
Saturday

Ariella's pov

It's been almost a week since Parker and I's fight and the both of us haven't spoken a single word to the other.

She seems to be doing fine, laughing it up with Lando in press and on the track. I'll admit, it hurts to know she's doing just fine while it kills me to see her like that.

How could she throw away years of friendship and be completely fine afterwards?

Even now down the pit lane I can see her and Lando chatting it up like her and I have done so many times before. It sends a painful pang to my heart to see her smiling, laughing without any hiccups in her joyous state. It's almost like she's rubbing it in, showing me how she's happy even without me in her life.

The sudden feeling of a hand on each of my shoulders causes me to jolt and turn around to quickly examine the source. "Jesus you scared me." I brush past him as I make my way to my side of the Red Bull garage. I can hear him follow me from behind.

"George will do just fine, no need for any nicknames." His joke is so bad it makes me stop in my tracks. I stop right at the front of the garage, turning back to the Brit who's holding back a laugh.

I blink at him and hold his gaze for a moment. "Ha ha." I say sarcastically. I turn back and continue on my route to my driver room. I can still hear him following.

"You lost?" I joke once we reach the room. "No. I just want to know what you're up to is all." He shrugs, looking slightly confused, and I'm not exactly sure why.

"I'm getting ready for practice. Or did you forget we were professional athletes?" I laugh slightly, saying it in an obvious tone. He stays silent and I realize then what the quizzical expression may have been about.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't- I wasn't-" I stumble over my words, shaking my head frantically as I realize how much of a bitch I had been to him since he came up to me in the pit lane.

His hands run up and down my arms comfortingly. "It's alright, I get it. I saw Parker. I saw how it affected you. Are you okay?" I just nod while muttering out even more apologies.

I look everywhere but at him. Subconsciously, I begin to play with the bracelet on my wrist again.

I feel a hand close around the skin right above my wrist. I watch on as he moves my wrist to give him a better viewing of it. "When did you get this?" He uses a finger to gently tap twice on the beads of the bracelet. I look up into his eyes, the blue of them seemingly piercing right into my soul as if he's reading me like a book.

"A fan gave it to me in Australia, when I went to my brothers show." I explain in a voice so quiet it's almost a whisper.

He smiles slightly. "You do this thing when you get nervous." His other hand comes up and starts imitating the way the bracelet was weaving around my own fingers just moments before. The bracelet is still wrapped around my wrist.

I don't know what to say as his movements continue, a bead rolling through his index finger and thumb. I can feel my face heating up, no doubt in my mind that my cheeks dusted with a dark shade of pink.

I pull my arm back down to my side. Both of his arms also fall at the movement. "I've got to focus." I mutter before backing away slightly.

"You're flustered." He points out the obvious, the smirk on his face could practically be heard through his words.

I grumble, embarrassed that he even was able to catch the tint of my cheeks. Putting my hands on his chest, I make an attempt to push him towards the door. "No! I think it's cute!" He shouts in desperation, trying not to be ejected from the room.

I stop my movements, my hands falling from his chest. "Get out I need to change." The words are anything but confident. My head logically knows he needs to go but my heart wants him to stay here with me for as long as possible.

A chuckle comes from his nose, which tells me he's thinking of something he shouldn't. "What? I can't stay for that?" He tries to contain his laughter, but short bursts escape through his brightening smile.

My eyes widen. "Buh bye!" Once again, my hands are on his chest pushing him to the door. He swoops down and steals a quick kiss on my lips before turning around and willingly leaving. I stand there, stunned.

-☆-

I qualified p3, an ugly result for having the best car on the grid by far. Ahead of me is Lando and Max.

"P3 isn't too bad, eh?" Max tries to joke. I scoff a laugh, my hand coming up to run down the length of my face.

"I was out qualified my a McLaren." I say it as a joke but ultimately, I feel defeated. I can feel the tears of disappointment threaten to spill, a tightness in my throat warning me of their approach. I force the streams back, p3 isn't even that bad of a result I'm really just being dramatic.

"So were 17 other people, Ari." Max wraps an arm around my shoulder and walks me to his driver room, neither of us say a word the whole way there. He shuts the door behind us.

I stand in the middle of the small room awkwardly, not knowing the reason for this 'meeting'.

"You're being too obvious." For a moment I think he's talking about me being disappointed in my self, but really that wouldn't make sense. My expression turns confused.

"You and George. He was following you like a lost puppy earlier. If Christian finds out, it's not going to be good for either of you." Max is referring to the threat. When I told him about it, he was sure Christian was being serious.

"What so I can't be around guys without it looking like I'm dating them?" The question is seeping with anger, but my voice is steady as the words are said.

He takes a long moment to exhale. "I'm not saying that. But the media? They're always itching for headlines, and even a glimpse of what might be a relationship they'll eat it up and spin it every which way. I just want you to be careful." Max has a way of saying things like an older brother.

Really that's kind of how I see him, as a brother figure. Of course he's no replacing Ashton, but Max is there when Ashton can't be.

I just nod and mutter a "yeah".

He makes a very valid point with the media. They're like hungry starved sharks and will jump at any opportunity for a juicy headline, even if it's not true.

Being with George feels a little like walking on a tightrope. I have to walk that thin line between friends and lovers, and one wrong step I could go tumbling down into unknown territory.

Who knows what would happen if I overstep?

(1242 words)
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A/N - I want to give Nyck a hug rn I feel so bad for him