Formula 1 - One Shots [Requests closed]

Charles Leclerc - 'I hate being a F1 driver'

A/N: This is for formula1islife ! (: I hope you'll like it, have fun!

You smoothed your silver dress out one more time before stepping out of the car. You gave the keys to the parking valet before thanking him. This night was not something you were used to, but you had come because it was important to your boyfriend, Charles Leclerc. It was a charity dinner for an association for children which was a great cause.

You stepped into the ballroom and immediately felt as if you did not belong here, which was kind of true. The place where you felt the most comfortable at was the hospital, your hospital. You worked as a nurse in Nice, not far from Monaco so the ride had not been too long although you had been in some traffic. The smell of Disinfectant was not creepy for you, on the contrary, it made you feel calm. That might sound weird to people because they would usually avoid hospitals but you had grown in hospitals as your mother had been a nurse too and her mother before her.

You breathed in the air of the room and smelled champagne and food that you could only afford if you were selling your flat. You looked around you, seeking Charles. You eventually spotted him chatting with men dressed in suits just like him. You took a deep breath and casually walked towards him... or at least tried to. You stumbled because of your heels and a lady turned to look at you, chuckling behind her hand.

You cursed yourself for letting your friend choosing your shoes and kept walking as if nothing had happened but you could feel your face becoming red. You waited a few seconds that your boyfriend stopped talking to, what sounded like, investors and stepped forward to touch Charles's elbow while whispering:

'Hey.'

Charles was slightly surprised but quickly smiled at you.

'Y/n! You're here, great,' he said, putting a hand on your back.

And this was it. No introduction to those men. Nothing. It was like that the whole evening. Sometimes, Charles would introduce you as 'Y/n F/n', no 'this is my girlfriend' or would not even take your hand to show that you two were together. Nope. Actually, he barely talked to you. You really did not understand Charles in public. Fine, he was almost born in fancy parties and stuff but still. He was another person and was ignoring you. Besides, it was not just this evening, it had been like that for quite a time, now.

The evening went on and on and you almost spent it alone. No chatting, no dancing, nothing. You were bored and tired and just wanted to go home. You tried to drink champagne but it was not even that good so you just drank water. Your eyes usually wandered around the room and they landed on a journalist talking to your boyfriend, her hand pulling on his bow.

You were immediately walking towards Charles. When you reached him, you whispered:

'I'm leaving, you know tired and stuff.'

'Yeah, great,' he answered, distant without even sparing you a glare.

You felt your eyes burning which made you turn around and walk away. You quickly left the building and handed your parking ticket to the parking valet. It took you everything not to cry in front of him and the doorman. Once he was back with your car, the doorman quickly glanced at you and asked his colleague:

'Hmm... are you sure you picked the right car, man?'

There we go. It just could not be worse. Even your car made you feel out of place. Fine it was not a shiny Ferrari or Mercedes but at least it worked. You did not belong here so you just grabbed the keys and said, angry and in low spirits: