Melody of death | English Version | Charles Leclerc FF

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"So, Madame. We need to talk!" Clodine raised her eye brows and looked at me with curiosity in her eyes. I wanted to disappear from here, take the next flight to the other end of the world and never come back... How bad that this isn't possible in this really awful world.
Hesitating, I gave myself to the situation.

"Please explain to me how it's possible that you are working with Charles Leclerc??? No seriously, every other human being on this goddamn earth would die to just see him once in a lifetime and you are casually working with him here!" Without understanding, I tilted my head. I really had no idea why it was such a big deal to have spent time here with him. He's just a young man, even if he already meant more to me than I would ever admit.

"Charles who?", I asked.
"Charles Leclerc! Oh my god, don't say that you don't know him?!" Completely stunned, the blonde stared at me and shook her head in disbelief.
"I am going outside." Without waiting for my answer, she took a tray, walked around the counter straight towards the outdoor area. I stayed behind without understanding anything what she just said. Maybe I should investigate, that Charles Leclerc was a famous person. I mean, he already seemed quite familiar to me, I just don't know where from...

Around six p.m. Clodine and I finished our shift. Instead two other colleges came. The restaurant was open the whole day so that we serve like a Café in the mornings and like a restaurant in the evenings..

Tired, I let myself sink into my seat and threw my bag into the passenger seat. A certain thought was buzzing around in my head. I wanted to know who Charles Leclerc was. I put his name in Google and waited a few seconds for it to show me results – the network in Monte Carlo is not always the best. I was shocked when I scrolled through the several reports and websites. And then I got the answer to my question.

Charles is a Formula 1 driver. More specifically, he has been driving for Ferrari since this year, is 1,80 m tall and will be 21 years old in October.

These information over rolled me like a storm. Formula 1 driver. I've never heard more than that, but all I know is that it's an expensive sport. It's all about money I guess. And although my head says that the drivers and employees are arrogant and heartless, this prejudice collides with the feelings of my heart, which Charles does not know as this kind of person. I didn't get to know Charles as a conceited bastard, but as a sympathetic, helpful and attractive man.

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Two days later, on weekend, an E-Mail reached me – the written invitation to Marlow's wedding. It should take place in two weeks, on Saturday, 06/15/2019. I didn't really have a real plan for what to wear. I am generally more a fan of simple and bright clothes. But how lucky I am to have a best friend who is a specialist in these kind of things. Ayla. She will come to visit from Canada next week.
At the thought of seeing her again, my heart warmed. Our last meeting was weeks ago and is therefore more than long overdue.

With a packed bag, I went to Monte Carlo to see my parents around noon. Like every time, I spend the weekend with them. This is tradition that my parents do not want to do without under any circumstances. Of course, I don't feel like it every time, but I don't want to disappoint them. No more than I do it all the time either way.

I parked the car in front of the house where my parents live. My eyes fell on the grey sports car behind which I just parked. I knew immediately who it belonged to, after all, I've sat in it before. My heart began to beat faster. I let my yes wander around, but did not discover the owner of the car. He probably went to visit his mother, strangely enough, exactly today where I am here. How could it be that I have never seen him here in all these years?

Away from these thoughts I went in. I left my shoes in the entrance area of the house and first went to the kitchen, from where I heard voices. My mom leaned against the refrigerator, she was talking to someone on the phone and waved to me when she noticed me. I also put on a smile and took a seat at the kitchen table to wait until the middle-aged women had finished her phone call.
My eyes wandered to the windows. Outside, the cloudless sky shimmered and the sun burned mercilessly down to the city, like all summer. Rain or the like is rare around this season. Therefore, I love autumn, when the coloured leaves fall from the trees, the wind stirs up the hair and rain showers immerse the city in a shiny beauty.

"Honey", my mom's exuberantly happy voice tore me out of the thoughts about autumn and I looked at her. The next moment she already hugged me and pressed a kiss on my hair. I was only gone for a week, I thought to myself and rolled my eyes inside.
"How are you?", she asked and looked at me from head to toe.
"I am fine. How are you?" My eyes fell on her bright curls. Although my hair is as brown as chestnuts, I inherited the curls from my mother.
"Oh honey. I am fine. Do you want to bring your things up?", she wanted to know, pointing on my bag, which I had just put next to the table. I nodded and rose from the brown wooden chair. It's a miracle that I've never had a splint in my butt with this rotten material. Not only the chairs, but also the table was already t least ten years old. I don't know why my parents never replaced the furniture...

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When I came back to the kitchen a while later, I stopped irritated. Unlike before, the kitchen was no longer tidy. Buffet plates pilled up on the worktop with, for example, baguette and croissants, fruit slices and a vegetable quiche. My mother was busy putting a large spoon in a salad bowl and placed a stack of plates right next to it.

"Would you be so kind and put them on the table?", my mother asked without really looking at me, as she paid attention to other things. I nodded, but at the same time I didn't understand the effort for this food. Did my parents expect someone?
"Mom, is there something up tonight?", I asked when I took cutlery out of the drawers and spread it on the table.
"Our neighbours are coming over for dinner today. I haven't talked to Pascale for so long and since your father didn't mind either, I set up a meeting for tonight." I knew who my mom meant. I have known Pascale for a long time, my mother and they have often arranged to drink coffee.
"By the way, two if her sons, Charles and Arthur are coming along." I paused in my actions. Charles... Neighbours... The car in front of the house...
That must not be true.
Suddenly everything became clear to me.

I knew from my mom's stories that Pascale has three sons, non of them has ever moved into this house. I didn't know anything about them. Never mind, now the puzzle comes together...