somewhere || George Russell

three

"What brings you to LA?" Laurel asked and rested her chin on her hand, turning her head to see George.

Her arm was on the counter, and they were both seated on the barstools of the hotel's permanent bar, which is empty in this current moment because everyone is at the party outside.

"The USA Grand Prix," he smiled and answered.

"I don't know what that means," she giggled and shrugged.

"A Formula One race," he explained, still smiling.

She clearly has no idea of who he is, and that sounds great, because there are some girls that just approach George because of who he is, even though he doesn't consider himself as famous as Lewis Hamilton or Daniel Ricciardo.

"Oh, right," she chuckled, "my brother said that you are a Formula One driver, but somehow I forgot."

"It's fine," he looked into her green eyes again. For sure he has never seen prettier eyes than hers.

"Is it like Cars?" Laurel amusedly asked. Okay, maybe she is drinking a little bit too much.

"No, no," he slightly laughed, "Cars is more like NASCAR I think."

She frowned. "I'm pretty sure Francisco Bernoulli is a Formula One car," she giggled again, "his biography in Wikipedia says that he grew up in Monza. I have no idea what Monza is, though."

"Is a racetrack in Italy," he said. She nodded, pleased with the answer. "Near Milan. I have had races there."

"I have been to Milan several times but never to Monza," she mumbled, "maybe I'll visit next time," she chuckled. "Is that track as good as Francesco claims?"

"You really like Cars," he laughed. She nodded and laughed with him. "It's pretty good. I won a Formula 2 race there."

"Oh God, there is a Formula 2?" she asked, surprised. He nodded. "Great, everyday learning something new."

George laughed. She really had no idea but seems excited to really learn something new. "Tell me about you now."

"What do you want to know?" she smiled.

"Are you a hotelier?"

"Sometimes," she answered and wrinkled her nose, "my practical self is a hotelier, but I have also a dreamer part that is an actress."

"Actress?" he grew a smile, "like on TV?"

"No," she shook her head, "I am a performer in Broadway."

"Wow," he said, "shouldn't you be like in rehearsals right now?"

"I am the star. I get free weekends," she winked at him. "But, you know, dreams don't pay the bills, so, I have to also dedicate to my hotel in New York. I mean, I don't do much, I just help the actual manager and receive the money from my third part of the shares."

"My dream pays the bills," he smiled.

"Your dream seems profitable than mine," Laurel chuckled.

"Why?" George frowned.

"You get to be on TV, I'm pretty sure you have sponsors," she started to think in her mind the kind of things that pays him a salary, "I don't know. But being a performer is not as profitable as being a racing driver."

Little does he know that she thinks she gets paid too little because she was born millionaire, so, maybe one thousand dollars a week is not much for her.

"Maybe you're right," he admitted.

"One fun fact you need to know about me: I am always right," Laurel chuckled.

"You can't be right all the time," he frowned, with a smile on his face.

"Try me," she raised an eyebrow, "I am always right."

He chuckled. How confident is her.

Laurel's phone lit up with a message from Emilio on the triplets group chat. In that exact moment, the waiter put a glass of water for George on the counter and both extended their arm to reach for the things they wanted. Their hands touched a little, and they fell a little spark.

Laurel shrieked and started to laugh, pulling back her hand.

George laughed. "That was a big spark."

"It was an electric discharge," she chuckled and extended her arm again to take her cellphone, "it is caused because bodies have a positive charge and a negative charge, so when two materials come into contact, one of them loses electrons, remaining with a positive charge and the other gains these electrons, obtaining a negative charge," she explained, nervously. He raised his eyebrows. He wasn't actually waiting for an explanation, "in each body the charges of protons and electrons must be balanced, therefore, if one body lost charge and touches another body, that is when the discharge and the sensation of 'spark' occurs."

"Wow. I-" he chuckled and tried to say something.

She nodded and looked at her phone. So smart. And yes, she is right.

"Oh my God," she muttered. "I have to go. My parents just got engaged," she jumped from the barstool with a big smile on her face, "meet you tomorrow for brunch?" she asked and started to write something down on a paper napkin.

"Sure, go," he smiled and kissed her cheek, allowing her to go. He looked down on the napkin and saw a number in it. Sure, its hers.

No matter her scientific explanations, he knows what a spark is.