I follow Mick into his driver room. This wasn't how we expected his first race in Formula one to go. He slammed his helmet down in frustration and threw his gloves to the side. I sat down on a chair on the opposite side to the room watching his frustration turn to disappointment. He wanted to show the world that he could live up to his family name but no. The car was shit and he may as well had been last. "You know, it isn't your fault." I mutter. His head falls back as he let's out a long sigh. "Tell the critics that." They were dick heads honestly. It was like he couldn't even lift a finger without them yelling about it. Always in comparison with his father and you may argue that every driver's child is going to be compared to their parent when racing but not to the extent that drivers like Mick are.
"Look, the car just isn't up to standard. How can they blame you for the car being slow?" I fold my arms over my chest and let out a huff. "They will find a way. They always have." It hurt me seeing him like this. Why does he put so much pressure on himself? Sure, they share the same last name but he's a completely different driver to his father and yet people think it's fair to compare them. "Mick, listen. Do you think your dad just hit the ground running? Absolutely not! He had to work for it and it's not fair for you to just put yourself under this amount of pressure because he did great things when he was older than you are now."
"Y/n, I understand you're trying to make me feel better but it isn't working." Mick sighed. He sat down on his sofa and bent over. His legs started bouncing up and down, he was thinking about something. "They complain about everything I do. Everything I am, even you. You don't even deserve to be hurt, not even a little bit." Once again, the media were dickheads. They nit picked at everything but it practically flew over my head. I didnt even care. "Mick, do I look like I care?" Mick shook his head looking at me. I got up and walked over just before him and taking hold of his hand. "They can run me to the ground all they want but never, ever will I let them get to me and you shouldn't let them get to you either."
Mick offered a soft smile and rubbed my cheek. "But you're practically perfect and I make sure you know it every single day." I squeeze his hands. "And you're an amazing driver that needs to find that out for himself." I paused. "I'm not a good driver though." He added. I rolled my eyes and groaned. "Let me compliment you for Christ's sake! You make it so bloody difficult." Mick laughed at my words. "Now go show them what Mick Schumacher can do." Mick furrowed his brows. "I can't show them until tomorrow there's no race today." He chuckled. "It sounded a lot more inspirational in my head, stop ruining the moment." I said defending myself. "No moment is ruined if you're here."
"A moment is always ruined if you're upset or sad." I replied. Mick scooped me up into his arms and pressed a kiss onto my hair. "You know I love you a lot right?" I nodded. "You might have mentioned it once or twice." I giggled. "Well I'll say it a third time then. I love you a lot." He said, placing a kiss onto my lips. I lived for these moments with him. I loved him and I never wanted that to change. "Shall we go out so you can do your media duties?" Mick sighed and nodded. "I guess I have to don't I?" He took hold of my hand and walked out to the paddock. "Mick! Are you ready?" His PR asked. He looked back at me and smiled. "Just stay at the hospitality and I'll be back to get you as soon as I can. Okay der liebling?" I nodded and pulled him in for a final kiss before watching him walk off and I couldn't help but feel like a love struck puppy. I fucking loved Mick Schumacher and he loved me. I was always going to be there for him, no matter what.
