#cl 16

Lewis: “Don’t worry, I’ll check on her.”

Lewis: regrets this decision immediately.

He knocks. No answer. He tries again. Nothing. So, being the responsible mentor he thinks he is, he uses the spare key the team gave him.

And then—

“...Y/N, what the hell are you doing?!”

Cue Lewis standing in the doorway, watching his rookie teammate crouched like a gremlin, hair half‑bleached, dye dripping onto the hotel towels.

Y/N, with a streak of red across her forehead: “...self‑care?”

—

The Chaos Ensues

Lewis absolutely loses it in the most Lewis Hamilton way possible.

“You have media duties in twenty minutes.”

“You’re supposed to be talking about tire degradation, not looking like a strawberry explosion.”

“Do you have any idea what the sponsors are going to say if you show up like that?”

Y/N, still calmly painting her hair: “Well, technically the dye needs to sit for thirty more minutes so I literally can’t go.”

Lewis, clutching his forehead like he’s aged forty years: “Oh my god, I cannot do this with you.”

—

Rookie Logic™

Y/N: “Listen, the fans love a dramatic reveal. Imagine me walking into the paddock tomorrow with new hair. Boom. Instant PR win. Mercedes looks fresh. The sponsors will eat it up.”

Lewis: “This is not a TikTok transition, Y/N.”

Y/N: “Everything is a TikTok transition if you commit.”

Lewis: screams internally.

—

Group Chat Meltdown

Of course Lewis doesn’t just suffer in silence. No, no, he immediately snitches in the Drivers’ Group Chat™.

Lewis: Does anyone else’s teammate skip PR duties to dye their hair instead??

Lando: lmaooooooo send pics

George: wait which color

Charles: tell her to go pink next so we match 🩷

Oscar: respect. she has her priorities straight.

Max: rookie mistake. should’ve gone blonde. easier maintenance.

Lewis, in all caps: THIS IS NOT FUNNY.

—

The Great Dye Debate

Lewis is still pacing the bathroom like an angry dad.

Lewis: “What if the dye drips on the team polo? Do you even know how expensive those are? Do you even care?”

Y/N: “I’ll embroider a Mercedes logo on my forehead if it helps.”

Lewis: “I am not letting Toto see you like this.”

Cue Y/N laughing so hard she almost drops the dye bowl.

“Wait, wait—imagine Toto Wolff barging in right now. He’d combust. Instant heart attack. Mercedes down one CEO.”

Lewis: visibly considering it.

—

Meanwhile… in PR Hell

PR Team: waiting at hospitality, staring at the empty chair where Y/N should be.

PR intern: “Should I… check on her?”

PR manager: “Lewis said he’d handle it.”

PR intern: “Oh thank god. He’s responsible.”

Cut to Lewis currently holding a mixing brush and yelling about ammonia fumes.

—

Unexpected Guest Appearance

Because fate is cruel, George Russell decides to drop by Y/N’s room. He walks in, takes one look, and immediately takes out his phone.

George: “This is gold. I’m sending it to the group chat.”

Lewis: “DON’T YOU DARE—”

Too late. The grid now has photographic evidence of Y/N crouched on the floor with foils in her hair like she’s auditioning for America’s Next Top Disaster.

Max (in the chat): Iconic.

Lando: okay but lowkey looks good??

Daniel (who wasn’t even asked): tell her to add purple streaks. Trust me.

—

The Reveal

After forty minutes of chaos, three towels ruined, and Lewis nearly disowning his teammate, Y/N rinses out the dye. And—against all odds—it actually looks good.

Y/N, posing dramatically in the mirror: “See? Worth it.”

Lewis, still stressed: “You’re lucky it worked. If it hadn’t, you’d be wearing a Mercedes cap until Abu Dhabi.”

Y/N: “Joke’s on you, I would’ve bedazzled it.”

Lewis: “Please stop talking.”

—

Media Duties, Take Two

Of course Y/N eventually has to show her face to the media. And when she does, it’s with freshly dyed hair and an attitude like nothing ever happened.

Journalist: “New look for the race weekend?”

Y/N: “Yes, thank you for noticing. I believe in innovation. Both on track and in hair color.”

Lewis in the background: dying inside.

—

Postscript: Toto Finds Out

Because chaos never dies, Toto Wolff eventually hears about the entire incident.

Toto, in a team meeting: “Next time, Y/N, please do not skip media duties for… personal projects.”

Y/N: “Personal growth, actually.”

Lewis: muttering under his breath “Personal brain damage.”

Toto: sighs so hard the entire factory feels it.

—

The Internet Reacts

Within 24 hours, #RookieY/N is trending on Twitter for her new hair.

Fan edits. TikTok audios. Memes comparing her to Lightning McQueen.

Lewis: “This is exactly what I was afraid of.”

Y/N: “Ka‑chow.”

—

✨ End.

tonight was the premiere of one of the biggest movies of 2025. you stood in front of the mirror, smoothing down the fabric of your dress for what felt like the hundredth time. your stomach twisted with nerves—tonight wasn’t just a premiere. it was the first time you and charles would be seen together, the first time the world would form opinions about a relationship that had belonged only to the two of you.

what if they don’t like you? what if rumors started immediately? what if being with him in public changes everything?

you took a slow breath, trying to shake off the thoughts swirling in your mind, when the door opened. charles stepped inside, already dressed for the night, his tie slightly loosened the way it always was before he got nervous (though he’d never admit it.)

“you’re quiet. talk to me amour.” he said gently, walking closer to you.

you looked down at the floor, unsure of how to put your feelings into words, but before you could try, he slipped his arms around your waist from behind, resting his chin on your shoulders. 

“i know you’re worried,” he murmured, his voice warm and calm, “but you don’t have to be. whatever happens, we’ll go through it all together okay? i’m right here y/n” his arms tightened just a little and he gently placed a kiss on your temple. 

for the first time all evening, the knot in your chest loosened. with him beside you, maybe tonight didn’t feel so scary after all.

—

the red carpet was lined with photographers, flashing cameras catching every moment as A-listers posed and mingled with each other. but as you stood there, hand in hand with charles, the world around you felt like it had faded into the background.

this was it. the moment when everything changed. for months, you and charles had kept your relationship private, only sharing it with close family and friends. your heart was racing at the thought of how people would react.

charles squeezed your hand and offered a reassuring smile to calm your nerves. his eyes locked with yours. “you ready?” he whispered. you nodded at him and smiled.

the flash of cameras grew louder as you both walked onto the carpet, and suddenly, everything felt real. this wasn’t just a night for movie stars—it was a night for you and charles,a night to finally let the world in on what you’d been building in private. 

charles kept his hand wrapped firmly around yours, his confidence irresistible, but you could feel your heart racing as you moved forward. 

“charles!! over here! y/n can we get a smile?” the voices of the paparazzi cut through the noise, but you tried to stay focused, focusing on the feeling of charles’ hand, the warmth of his presence beside you. you glanced at him, meeting his eyes for a brief second. he gave you a smile, just enough to remind you that he was in this with you.

as you reached the main interview section, an interviewer approached you guys with a microphone, the questions already flying.

“charles, y/n!! it’s unbelievable to see you both out together. how long have you guys been dating?” you felt your stomach flip, the weight of the question hitting you immediately. but charles squeezed your hand, calming you down.

he smiled and turned to you, his voice easy and calm. “it’s been a while,” he said, his tone light, almost playful. “but we’ve kept it private you know? some things are just better that way.” the interviewer nodded as he spoke. “so tonight’s your first public appearance together as a couple. what made you guys decide to go public now?” charles tilted his head, as if considering how to answer, then glanced at you, his gaze soft.

“we’ve been talking about it for a while,” he began, his voice sincere. “and when you’re with someone who means so much to you, it just.. feels right to share it with the world.” the interviewer, eyes landing on you, leaned forward. “do you think the spotlight will change things for you, y/n?”

your heart pounded in your chest. you knew the media would pick apart every word, every gesture. charles looked at you and squeezed your hand, as if he was saying everything’s going to be okay. you took a quick breath. “what’s important is that we’re happy. that’s what really matters. the rest doesn’t change that.”

as the interview wrapped up, the flashing lights continued to pop around you, but the noise seemed quieter now. you were still standing on the carpet, still in the middle of all the attention, but charles standing beside you made it feel like you were exactly where you were meant to be, with him.

in that moment, you realized that the world could look and judge and ask all the questions they wanted. but at the end of the night, it was you and charles, and that was enough.

as the interviewer thanked you guys and stepped away, charles laced his fingers with yours and leaned in slightly, his voice low enough that only you could hear it.

“you’re doing amazing, chérie.” he murmured, his thumb brushing gently over the back of your hand. you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

“i didn’t think i’d survive this” you whispered back with a laugh. he smiled and gently kissed your forehead. “we’re in this together.”

a handler motioned for you both to continue down the carpet, and charles guided you forward, always half a step behind you, like he wanted the world to see you first. it was subtle, but you noticed it, and it sent waves of warmth in you immediately.

fans called out his name from behind the barricades, waving posters and flags, but a few called out for you too. everything felt surreal. you glanced at charles, unsure of how to react. he caught your expression and gave you a soft nudge. “go on,” he whispered. “say hi.”

so you did. you turned toward the crowd, laughing as you waved, and their cheers rose even louder. it wasn’t as scary as you thought. not with his hand steady in yours. you took photos with the fans and signed anything that was given to you. 

after a few minutes, you and charles started walking back. when you turned to him, he was already looking at you, eyes warm and proud, like he was seeing the moment you finally relaxed.

“see?” he said quietly. “they already adore you.”

you rolled your eyes, fighting a smile. “they adore you.” he shook his head just a little. “tonight, they adore us.”

—

inside the theater, the noise of the red carpet faded into a soft hum. the lights were dim, celebrities whispering as they found their seats. charles guided you through the aisle, his hand resting lightly on the small of your back. when you finally sat down, he leaned closer, his shoulder brushing yours.

“you okay?” he whispered. you nodded, letting your hand rest against his his for a second. “i am now.”

throughout the movie, he kept your hand in his lap, thumb tracing circles across your knuckles. every so often, he’d glance over at you, and each time, the soft glow from the big screen caught the admiration in his eyes.

when the credits rolled and lights came back up, he looked at you and asked, “ready?”

you weren’t sure if he meant ready to leave the theater or ready for the world outside after tonight, but either way, you nodded.

security guards led you two outside the theater and towards the car waiting for you both. the atmosphere was a lot calmer. most of the press had left, leaving only lingering fans and soft chatter. charles slipped an arm around your waist as you walked. 

the second the car door shut, you exhaled a very long breath. charles noticed immediately.

“you did so well tonight” he said, turning toward you and placing his hand on your leg.

“i survived.” you laughed softly.

“you did more than that. i’m proud of you, ma chérie.”

the drive was quiet but peaceful, city lights passing in streaks outside the window. your head drifted onto his shoulder, and he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer.

no cameras, no noise, no stress. just him.

—

when you finally reached home, he held the door for you, letting you step inside first. the second the door clicked shut, you kicked off your shoes and melted into the peace of your shared house.

charles walked up to you, his arms circling your waist as he pressed a kiss on your lips. his voice low and soothing, “i told you we would make it.”

you let out a soft laugh, the tension finally leaving your body. you leaned back in his arms, looking up at him. “yeah, we did. i really didn’t think i would be able to handle tonight.” 

he smiled, the same way you’d grown to love over the months, the one that made you feel safe, no matter what. “i told you you’d be fine. you were more than perfect out there, you know.” 

you rolled your eyes and grinned. “i was not perfect. i was a nervous wreck. you know i almost tripped on the carpet halfway down??” 

he laughed, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face. “i saw, but you didn’t. and you looked beautiful doing it.” his eyes softened. “toute la nuit, tu étais magnifique.” (all night long, you looked gorgeous)

you smiled at the compliment, but there was something else in your voice when you spoke. “i’m still kind of surprised. that was.. a lot. i thought i’d be freaking out the whole time, but with you there..” you paused, a little embarrassed about it. “it didn’t feel so scary. i felt like, if it was too much, i could just glance at you and everything would be okay.”

charles’ expression softened. his hand lingered at the side of your face, his thumb brushing your cheek. “you’re never going to have to do anything alone, y/n. i’m here. whether it’s just us or the whole world is watching. we’re in this together, always.”

you leaned into his touch, feeling a quiet smile tug at your lips. “i know. i guess.. i guess i just didn’t realize how much i needed that reminder till tonight. it feels different now, out in the open like this. like everyone’s watching, trying to figure us out.”

he chuckled softly, pulling you closer. “let them watch. they can say whatever they want, but they’ll never understand what we have. they’re not us.” he kissed the top of your head. “and honestly, i’m not worried about what they think. as long as we’re happy, that’s all that matters to me.”

the comfort of his words washed over you. “yeah, you’re right. i just needed to hear you say it. it’s easy to get caught up in everything else, and forget that it’s us.”

charles stepped back a little, looking at you with an amused glint in his eyes. “you’re always so serious when you’re thinking about stuff like this.” he cupped your chin, tilting your face up to his. “how about we don’t think about it anymore? just you and me, here. no cameras, no fans. just us.”

—

you both walked into the bedroom, the weight of the night melted away. no cameras, no press, just the soft comfort of your own shared space. charles changed into a pair of sweatpants and you had put on one of his old shirts, which practically swallowed you. 

“next time we do a public event, maybe we can aim for something where i don’t have to wear a suit. i was struggling to breathe in that thing”he joked.

you giggled. “next time, we’ll pick something where you can wear jeans and a t-shirt, okay?”

he laughed. “perfect!”

after turning off the lights, you crawled into bed, the cool sheets welcoming you as you settled in besides him. he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest, his heartbeat steady against your ear.

for a moment, neither of you said anything—just the sound of your breathing, slow and calming. his hand traced circles on your back, each touch gentle and reassuring, like a reminder that everything was alright now.

“i’m glad we did this,” you whispered, your voice barley audible in the dark. “going public and everything.”

charles tightened his grip around you slightly, pressing a kiss to the top of your heard. “me too. it feels good, doesn’t it?” his voice was soft and sleepy. “but right now, it’s just you and me.”

“yeah. just us 2.” you sighed contentedly, snuggling closer. in the quiet darkness, with nothing but the sound of your breaths syncing together, you finally allowed yourself to relax completely.

You slid into parc ferme along with the rest of the midfield, barely able to get out of the car and reconnect your steering wheel fast enough. Sprinting down parc ferme, you found Charles celebrating with his team and family. When he eventually wriggled his way out of their grasp, you were able to approach him. 

“Congrats Charlie. Well deserved man” You said, embracing him in a hug 

“Thank you, thank you” Was all he was able to get out. 

As the podium celebration ensued, you and Max made your way to the media pen. Dozens of news outlets were scattered around the barrier, prompting you to separate from your teammate. The interviewer greeted you before going through the standard questions of what went wrong in the race. 

“Now let’s talk about something that happened after the race” The interviewer spoke, leading you to raise an eyebrow. “I think everyone who wasn’t looking at Leclerc was watching you run down parc ferme to greet him. Can you tell me a bit about that?” 

You couldn’t help but chuckle. At the time, you didn’t think twice about doing it, but being asked about your actions, you probably looked crazy doing it. “Yeah I mean it’s always exciting watching someone win their home race. It’s something I’ve dreamed of since I started watching Formula One as a little girl” 

A pause took over for a moment as you decided on the best way to word your next thoughts. “Charles is a very good friend of mine. He’s someone who welcomed me to the championship with open arms last year. On track I always want to give him a good fight if possible, but off the track I’m always going to support him.” 

Now Charles wasn’t usually one to eavesdrop on interviews. Most of the drivers said the same things over and over again, occasionally rephrasing. But whenever he heard your sweet southern accent, he couldn’t help but to listen in on what you had to say. 

When your words hit his ears, he could feel his heart stop. He wasn’t expecting you to confess a secret crush that no one knew you had to some interviewer, but a guy could dream. Instead, you very publicly friendzoned the Monegasque. 

Little did he know, you did in fact have a massive secret crush that only one person knew about. That one person was your teammate. And boy did he know a lot about it. 

“Did I just friendzone Charles with that?” You asked as the two of you walked towards the Red Bull garage for the team meeting. 

“Honestly maybe” Max said “Depends on if Charles is smart enough to realize you said it because you weren’t stupid enough to reveal your emotions to the media” 

“So then I definitely friendzoned him. Got it” You sighed

You weren’t sure if it was just how boring the entire day was, but the team meeting felt like it was dragging on. While you were zoning in and out of listening to Horner and Marko explain every single thing that was wrong with how you drove, you spotted Max next to you on his phone. 

“What are you doing?” You whispered 

Max’s head snapped up to look at you, quickly turning off his phone as he did so. “Oh, uh nothing” 

You shrugged, not thinking anything of Max’s reaction. He was always a private person, and you understood not wanting anyone to know your private conversations. 

Later that night, you traded your fireproofs for a little black top and jeans, as you and the grid were going out to celebrate Charles’ win. You were the last of the drivers to arrive, all of the boys jokingly blaming it on the fact you took longer to get ready, but in reality you needed the time to calm your nerves. 

You had gone to the club with the grid plenty of times before, but none of them revolved around Charles being the center of attention. You knew he was going to be bouncing around the group, spending time with everyone, and you were sure you didn’t want to make a fool out of yourself. 

Meanwhile, Charles was worrying about himself. When he drank, he got flirty. He knew it, Max knew it, even the fans knew it. The only person he was sure didn’t know was you. And that was only because he never drank as much as he usually does when he’s around you. 

He was already a few drinks deep when you finally showed up. He was near the back of the room, but he could spot your figure from a mile away. As you navigated through the sweaty bodies and sticky floors, Charles was easily able to get your attention by a wave of his hand. 

That wave turned into a hug, followed by a kiss on either cheek from the Monegasque. You realized it was just a cultural difference, and that’s how he greeted all of his female friends, but that didn’t stop your heart from fluttering. 

“Congrats again Charlie” You said finally spoke 

“Thank you mon amour, why don't I get you a drink to celebrate?” He asked, his words already starting to slur a bit 

“I can pay for myself. If anything so should be getting you a drink, for the winner after all” You replied. 

“No, no, no. Let me get it for you.” He insisted “You wouldn’t want to disappoint the winner, now would you?” 

You knew you weren’t going to win this round, so you let him buy you a drink. He followed you up to the bar where he easily got the attention of the bartender. 

“Moscow mule and a vodka redbull, blue edition” He ordered

Your head snapped to look at him, surprised he knew what you wanted. Regardless of how many times you’ve gone out drinking with him, you knew you never told him what your usual was. 

“You know my drink order?” You asked 

“I’m just that good” He shrugged as the bartender handed him the beverages. Charles handed you the vodka redbull as the two of you walked away from the bar. “Feel free to put the rest of your drinks on my tab tonight” 

It was a no-brainer that Charles was going to be the center of attention all night. Not even thirty seconds after you got your drinks, his childhood friends whisked him away. Then it was his friends from Ferrari. And then his brothers. And then those people who claimed they were friends with him, but only got close with him after he became famous. 

But no matter how many times he got carried away, he always found his way back to you. Even if it was just for a second, Charles made sure he checked on you throughout the night. 

The majority of your night was spent with Max, Logan and Oscar. You were lucky you got along well with your teammate, and you, Logan, and Oscar all grew close due to being the rookies the season prior. It also helped that Logan was the only other American on the grid. 

“So what’s going on between you and Charles?” Oscar asked 

“Oh uh nothing. We’re just friends” You said, hoping the Aussie would drop the topic 

Unfortunately for you, Logan decided to call you out. “Oh bullshit. I overheard him insisting on buying your drinks tonight, and we all saw you sprinting earlier to congratulate him” 

“Charles is too drunk to realize what he’s offering” You quickly dismissed 

“Still doesn’t explain your actions in parc ferme” Logan reminded

You looked to Max for help, only for the Dutchman to shrug.

“You are no help” You told him as you turned to the two others “I may have a small crush on him” 

Max almost did a spit take when he registered your words. “Small? You were doodling both of your initials together during the team meeting today.”

“Details, details. How about another round?” You suggested, quickly changing the subject. 

The four of you had just finished a round of shots when you saw Charles approaching from behind Max. The Monagasque rested his arm on Max’s shoulder, clearly needing stability. His eyes widened and a goofy smile formed on his face when he saw you. 

“There you are!” Charles slurred, moving his arm from Max’s shoulders to yours 

“Oooohkayy, I think it’s time for you to go home” You said, shifting to support his weight better “C’mon Charlie”

“Ooo Charlie” Logan teased 

You shot the American a glare, mouthing the words “not now”. Charles somehow got himself off of you, only to wrap his arms around himself, embracing his own body in a hug. 

“Uh, are you good?” Oscar asked Charles, his voice filled with concern 

“Yes, just thanking myself for coming out tonight. I picked a great bar” Charles answered with a goofy grin forming on his face. His eyes were shut as he swayed back and forth, almost knocking into a poor girl behind him. 

Apologies quickly fell out of your mouth to the girl. As you turned back to the group, all of the boys except Charles had worry plastered on their faces. Both Max and Oscar offered to help you take Charles home, but you turned them down. His place was only a few blocks away, and your hotel was about the same. You slung Charles’ arm over your shoulder, before bidding goodbye to your friends. 

“Bye Charlieeee” Logan teased his fingers waving goodbye. Another glare was shot from your eyes before Charles was carried out to the street. 

It didn’t take long to get Charles to his apartment. You insisted he sit down as you got him a glass of water, knowing he was too far from sober to do it without breaking or hurting something. Once he downed his first non alcoholic beverage in who knows how long, he changed and you put him to bed. 

You were sober and comfortable enough to walk yourself home, so once Charles was tucked in, you slipped your shoes on. Before you could get near the door though, you heard Charles calling your name. 

“What’s up?” You whispered as you opened the door to his bedroom. 

His eyes mimicked a puppy dog, pleading and full of concern. “I don’t want this to sound weird, but do you want to stay in the guest room tonight? I just don’t want you walking alone in the dark” 

Even though you knew you’d be fine walking home, you knew Charles would blame himself if something did happen to you. So, you agreed. You changed into one of Charles’s shirts that he insisted on you sleeping in, and made your way to the guest room. 

Neither of you dared to bring up what happened in Monaco. Not that anything bad happened, it was simply you didn’t know how the other felt, and it wasn’t a line either of you were comfortable crossing yet. 

Going into media day, you knew the press conference was going to be boring. It was Monza weekend, and your media group consisted of Lando, Pierre, Franco, and Charles. Having the attention on Charles was fine by you. You would be fine without the media taking your words out of context. 

With each question directed at Charles, you zoned out more and more. Thoughts of what you were going to do during the three week break crossed your mind. While traveling around the world for work was fun, home truly was where your heart lived. Your thoughts were cut off by someone tapping you. Looking to your right, Franco’s eyes met yours.

You had made some small talk with Franco throughout the day, wanting to welcome him into the league the same way you were last year. It was painful to receive the news that Logan was being replaced, but you couldn’t resent the newcomer, he just happened to be the one that was promoted.

“Is this usually this insufferable?” He whispered, genuine concern lacing his voice 

You stifled a laugh, careful not to interrupt Charles “Not this bad usually, but yeah it’s bad” 

“Great” He muttered “Thought I escaped it when I got promoted” 

The press room grew silent, leading you and Franco to press pause on your conversation. All eyes were on the two of you, while you guys gave blank stares back. 

“Did you hear the question?” The interviewer asked 

Franco chuckled awkwardly as he brought the microphone to his mouth. “Honestly? No. Bad first impression, so sorry” 

“No worries. Welcome to F1 Franco.” The interviewer said “For a fun question for the drivers: is there a certain trait that another driver has that you wish you had?” 

Franco thought for a second before opening his mouth to speak “Y/n’s friendliness I think. She was the first of the drivers to welcome me into F1, going out of her way to go to the Williams garage and introduce herself. So uh yeah, her friendliness” 

Warmth ran to your cheeks as the Argentinian turned to look at you. His smile was captivating, making your rosy glow even worse. 

“Wow, that was really sweet. Thank you Franco” You whispered before clearing your throat and picking the microphone up.

Your eyes landed on each of the drivers in the room, trying to think of any trait you would want from any of them. Charles’ ability to learn on the fly came to mind, but you couldn’t rave about Charles without revealing your feelings. 

“Ummmm, this may be team bias, but I’m probably going to have to pick Max.” You finally answered “His ability to perform under immense pressure is admirable. Going into last season as a rookie, I don’t think I could have asked for a better partner, or a better person to learn from.” 

The press conference wrapped up, the news stations leaving before the drivers could. You sat and talked to Franco a bit more, getting to know the newest driver better. Charles watched from the other side of the couch, trying not to make it too obvious. 

“Earth to Charles” Lando said, waving his hand in front of the Monegasque’s face

“Wha-what’s up?” Charles asked, snapping his head to look at Lando

“You were staring. Badly.” Lando pointed out 

“Not staring,” Charles defended, but the pink in his cheeks gave him away “Just…observing” 

“Sure, mate.” Lando smirked as he stood up, “You know, if you actually told her how you feel, you wouldn’t have to watch from a distance like a creep” 

“Really? I had no idea” Charles mumbled. He was relieved to see you didn’t hear what Lando had just said, as you were too engulfed in your conversation with Franco. 

“Just saying” The Brit continued “Everyone can see the chemistry between you two”

Charles adjusted his hat as he stood up next to his friend. “I just don’t want to ruin the friendship. What if it goes wrong?” 

Lando rolled his eyes. “Or it could go right. Look at how she talks to you, how she lights up around you. That’s not just a friendship, mate. She clearly likes you.”

Charles stole another glance at you, your eyes still focused on Franco. With one last sigh, he left the conference room, almost slamming the door behind him.

“What was that all about?” Franco asked you as he looked at the now shut door across the room

“I have no idea” You admitted  “Whatever it is, he’ll get over it”

The Austin sun blazed through the sky as you entered the paddock. You always loved being back home, and of course you went all out for it. You had your hair in two braided pigtails with your favorite cowboy hat resting on top, and a matching pair of boots tucked under your blue jeans. 

Most of the other drivers played into the gimmicks that Texas brought, even if they didn’t do them right. Some donned backwards cowboy hats while others tucked their jeans into their boots, both leading you to wince. Some, like Charles, did both.

“You look absolutely ridiculous” You yelled down the paddock as you spotted Charles in the middle of a media scrum

From what you could tell, they were in the middle of an unboxing of some sorts. Plastic and paper wrapping littered the area as a box was cracked open. Both Charles and the media turned to watch you walk over. 

“What are you talking about? I look fabulous” Charles said, showing off his new hat 

“Yeah,” You replied as you approached him “Except for the fact your hat’s the wrong way and your jeans are tucked in.” 

Before Charles could protest, you took the hat off of his head (from the crown of course, you weren’t an animal) and flipped it. His cheeks grew hot, both from embarrassment and how close you were to him. 

“Thank you” He whispered before untucking his jeans 

Saturday went perfectly for Red Bull. Max won the sprint, while you took second, giving the team a few more points in the Constructor’s race. 

As your day in the paddock came to a close, there was only one thing on your mind: the Texas/Georgia game. Growing up right outside the city meant your Saturdays were spent cheering on the Longhorns, and today was no different. 

You found Charles leaving the paddock at the exact same time you were, giving you the perfect opportunity to ask if he wanted to join you. While you knew he knew nothing about football, it at least gave you an excuse to spend a little extra time with him during the weekend. 

“What’s the chance you’re not doing anything tonight?” You asked as you caught up to him.

“Easily 100%. Do you have something in mind?” He replied 

“I have an extra VIP ticket to the game tonight and a spare jersey. Wanna join?” 

“You know I don’t know anything about American football” He reminded you. Charles truly wanted to go, but he didn’t want to bring your experience down because he was an idiot.  

“Pleaseeee” You begged, flashing him a fake pout “I promise you’ll have fun” 

Charles ran his hand through his hair before sighing “Okay. But this better not ruin my race tomorrow” 

You were right, Charles did have fun. Most of the time was spent on the sidelines, getting up close to the action. Charles didn’t understand a lick of what was going on, but that didn’t mean he didn’t try to. You walked him through all of the basic things he should know, like touchdowns, field goals, and extra points. 

And Charles would let you talk for days if he could. He was captivated by how your intonation changed as you explained the difference between a pass, a rush, and a kick attempt. Did any of what you said stick in his head? Absolutely not. But that didn’t matter. He was with you, and you were with him, and about 100,000 other people in the stadium.    

The rest of the weekend only got better for you. Not only were you working your way into Charles’ heart, you made your way to the top step of the podium. You knew Max was going to be aggressive going into turn one, giving you ample opportunity to sneak into the lead, where you stayed for the rest of the race. Both Charles and Max were on the podium with you, P2 and P3 respectively. 

“So would you say last night affected your race?” You asked Charles once you got to the cool down room. You quickly swapped the helmet in your hands for a towel and the Pirelli cap that were waiting for you. 

Charles chuckled “Maybe, I coulda ended up on the top step” 

You shrugged as you took your seat in the middle of the two boys. “Guess we’ll never know” 

After the formalities and shenanigans of the podium ceremony, you found yourself in the back of the media pen waiting for your turn for an open interviewer. You could feel a presence walking up to you, causing you to turn. Of all people, Franco was the one to approach. The two of you were decent friends, you being one of the first people to welcome him to the F1 grid. 

“Congrats on the win, amiga” Franco said, bringing you in for a hug 

“Thank you, thank you” You replied, “How was your first race at COTA?” 

“It was good! Definitely glad to be racing closer to home. I can’t wait for the next three in the Americas” He said 

As you and Franco made small talk, Charles was watching you like a hawk from across the pen. He listened to every laugh that came out of your mouth from something Franco said, analyzed every light hearted touch of the arm. Max was next to him, well aware of the events of the night prior. It was hard for him to not know about it, you would not stop talking about it in the paddock. 

“The way he held me? I felt like the only girl in the stadium” “He let me explain football to him, Max. No one ever lets me do that around here” “Are you sure he feels the same way about me?” Were all phrases that left your mouth earlier in the day. 

Max was positive Charles felt the same way about you that you did about him. Any of the few remaining doubts flew out the window as he listened to Charles whine. 

“Whatever he said cannot be that funny, right?” Charles asked “Like there’s no way”

Max muttered a “mhm” as he took a sip of the Red Bull in his hand. 

“I just don’t get how he does it so easily! What is it about him that makes him that likeable?” Charles asked “Is it the accent?” 

“Maybe it’s because he’s a natural flirt.” Max said “You couldn’t flirt with a brick if you tried” 

Charles’ glare left Franco and turned to the Dutchman next to him “You didn’t need to say that.” Max threw his hands up in defense.

“But what am I supposed to do if she can’t understand my flirting?” Charles asked 

“Just tell her how you feel. Ask her out on a date” Max suggested as if it was obvious. 

“That’s just asking for her to run me off the track in the next race” The Monagasque said. He ignored Lando’s advice in Monza, and he was likely to do the same to Max. 

A frustrated groan left Max’s mouth as he smacked the back side of his friend’s head. “Oh my god. Do I have to spell it out? She likes you.” 

Charles’ eyebrows furrowed as he watched you say goodbye to the Argentenian. A spot had opened up in the media pen, and Charles’ eyes followed you as you greeted the interviewer. 

“How do you know that?” He asked 

“Mate, she took you to the Texas game yesterday.  She doesn’t take just anyone. I’ve known her for years and I still haven’t gotten an invite.” He explained “In the garage, she wouldn’t shut up about how much fun she had with you last night.” 

“Really?” Charles asked. He couldn’t believe the words coming out of his friend’s mouth. 

“Yes, really. Now if you don’t tell her how you feel, I’m going to do it for you.” Max threatened as he walked towards the next open interviewer.

The bar buzzed with excitement as the sun dipped below the horizon. It being your home race, you ordered both your friends on and off the grid to join in the celebrations. Most of the guys were already there, already a few rounds deep, but it wasn’t until a certain Ferrari driver walked in that you relaxed. 

Charles navigated the crowd, his eyes scanning the room for any signs of you. When he spotted you at the bar, a grin spread across his face. He made his way over, squeezing through the sea of fans and drivers. 

“There you are!” he exclaimed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I've been looking for the race winner!” 

“Yeah, you’ve been avoiding me since the podium” you teased, crossing your arms 

“Right, totally” He fake agreed “Now, drinks on me?” 

A playful smile broke onto your lips as you turned to face the driver. “Actually, I believe it’s my turn. You got me in Monaco, it’s only fair” 

Charles opened his mouth to protest, but you already had gotten the attention of the bartender. He watched as you put up two fingers, and the bartender quickly got to work. As he waited, he was able to catch snippets of chatter and laughter from the rest of the people in the bar. Logan made the trip out to Austin, and was in deep conversation with Oscar and Alex, while Max and Lando were cracking jokes about their battle during the race. 

You handed Charles one of the two drinks you had received “To a dominant 1-2 finish” you toasted, clinking your glass against yours

He took a sip, the refreshing taste of the cocktail invigorating “This is really good. What is it?” He asked, looking at his drink 

“Texas Cactus Water” You answered “Tequila, lime juice, and Topo Chico”

The night wore on, and with each passing drink, the atmosphere became more lively. You were in your element, charming everyone around you. You were sure to spread your attention out to everyone who came to celebrate your win, but you always found yourself going back to him.

“Want another round?” he asked after the two of you finished your drinks.

“Yeah, sure. Put it on my tab” You ordered, knowing he would have said the same to you. 

As Charles approached the bar, Franco suddenly appeared by your side, a broad grin on his face. “Looks like you’ve got quite the fan club” he joked, nodding toward Charles, who was deep in conversation with the bartender. 

“He’s just being nice” You replied, not wanting to think too much about the flutter in your stomach at Charles’ attention “He bought my drinks in Monaco, so I’ve been returning the favor.

Franco raised an eyebrow. “Or maybe he likes you a little more than just ‘nice’,” he said, smirking.

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Please, we’re just friends. He’s friendly with everyone.”

“Yeah, but he looks at you differently. Just saying,” Franco teased, nudging your arm before slipping away to join some other drivers.

When Charles returned with another round of drinks, he slid next to you, his arm casually draped over the back of your chair. “What’s got you smiling like that?” he asked, tilting his head with genuine curiosity.

“Oh, just Franco being... well, Franco,” you replied, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Yeah? What did he say?” Charles pressed, his expression shifting to one of interest.

“Nothing important. Just... you know, how great it is to be back in Austin,” you deflected, not wanting to reveal the fluttering thoughts swirling in your mind.

Charles studied you for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly. “You sure? Because I could always tell him to back off if he’s bothering you,” he offered, his protectiveness shining through.

You laughed lightly. “I appreciate that, but really, it’s fine.”

As the night progressed, Charles seemed to loosen up even more, the drinks giving him a playful edge. He began to get a bit flirtier, leaning closer and making exaggerated gestures as he animatedly recounted his day.

At one point, he casually brushed your arm while reaching for his drink. The simple touch sent a rush of warmth through you. You could sense the tension building between you two, an electricity that was impossible to ignore.

You tried to focus on what he was saying, but the lingering sensation from his touch was hard to shake off. Each time he leaned closer, you felt that flutter in your stomach intensify, battling with the excitement of the moment. 

“So, what’s your strategy for Mexico City?” you asked, hoping to redirect the conversation and distract yourself from the undeniable chemistry brewing between you

Charles grinned, his eyes sparkling. “Honestly? Just to keep up with you. I’ve seen how competitive you can be, and I want to push myself more.” 

You smirked, leaning close enough in to get a whiff of his cologne “Is that so? You better be prepared for a good fight” 

He laughed, the sound deep and warm, and for a moment, the world around you faded. “I’d expect nothing less” he replied. His voice was low, and you could see a flicker of something deeper in his gaze. 

Just then, Max, Lando and Logan rejoined you, breaking the spell. 

“What were you two whispering about?” Lando asked, a mischievous grin on his face 

“Just race strategies” you said quickly, shooting a glance at Charles. The Monagasque nodded, playing along, but you could see a hint of disappointment in his eyes at the interruption

“Strategies for what? How to sneak out of here without us noticing?” Logan chimed in. You shot him a glare in response. 

“Oh come on” Charles said, his eyes rolling but amusement still danced on his face “We’re just having a good time” 

Max leaned in, the smell of alcohol on his lips as he smirked “Just make sure you keep it PG, yeah? Red Bull doesn’t need any headlines about you sleeping with the enemy” 

You lightly punched your teammate, causing him to flinch. “I can handle my own headlines, thank you very much” 

The group continued to joke and banter, but you couldn’t help stealing glances at Charles. He was laughing and enjoying himself, but every so often, his gaze would flicker back to you, that intensity returning.

As the night wore on, the playful atmosphere shifted to something more intimate when the music slowed down. You found yourself back at the bar with Charles, the noise of the party around you dimming to a soft buzz. Both of you had too many drinks, and it was evident by the conversation you were having. 

“Do you ever think what happens after this?” he asked, his tone serious

You looked up at him, surprised. “After what? The day? The season?”

He hesitated for a moment, as if weighing his words carefully. “I mean, after all this. When we’re not racing anymore. What do you want?” 

Charles’ question caught you off guard. It was a vulnerability you weren’t expecting. “I-” you started, then paused, choosing your words carefully. “I guess I want to keep doing what I love. Traveling, meeting new people, but also taking the time to enjoy moments like this.” 

He nodded, absorbing your words. “Yeah, me too. I’ve realized these moments are what make the job worth it” 

You could feel the tension building again, that electric connection almost palpable. “So what do we do about it?” you asked, your heart racing

Charles looked at you, his expression softening, and for a heartbeat, it felt like the world around you disappeared again. “Maybe we should stop pretending and just see where this goes?” He suggested, finally confronting the elephant in the room

The sincerity in his voice made your heart skip “You mean…?” 

He wasn’t sure where the sudden confidence was coming from. Maybe it was the amount of drinks, or maybe it was due to your true feelings finally being on display tonight. “Yeah, I mean if we both feel it, why not explore it?” 

You felt a rush of emotions - excitement, fear, hope. “I’d like that” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. 

Before you could process what was happening, Charles leaned down, pressing his lips against yours. It took a second to kiss him back, but when you did, it was everything you had dreamed of since you first met him. 

Suddenly, a loud cheer erupted from the other side of the bar, pulling you away from each other. All of the other drivers were staring at you, each pair of eyes matched with a shit eating grin. 

“You wanna get out of here?” You asked 

“Yeah, I’d like that” Charles said, taking your hand 

======

want more? check out @coco-loco-nut's sister story below!

THE ROOM WAS AWASH WITH a peculiar blend of nostalgia and tentative conviviality, the kind that only a high-school reunion could conjure. Fragments of laughter, some sincere, others tinged with a hint of uncertainty floated through the air, mingling with half-remembered stories and recollections of days long past. Charles lingered near the periphery, a glass of tepid punch clasped in one hand while the other nervously traced the edge of his jacket pocket. His gaze flitted around the room, moving from one face to another, searching for a singular visage — her visage.

Years had passed since they last spoke in earnest. They were mere acquaintances now, connected only by the fragile threads of social media, a few cursory comments on Instagram stories, an annual exchange of obligatory birthday wishes. But once, they had been inseparable deskmates bound by shared secrets, shared laughter and shared dreams scrawled in the margins of their textbooks. She had a peculiar habit; a habit of collecting rocks from every place she visited. It was a small thing, almost whimsical, but it was something he had never forgotten.

At last, he spotted her, standing by the old trophy case, the dim light casting a soft halo around her, making her appear almost ethereal. For a moment, he hesitated, feeling the weight of time and lost opportunities pressing down upon him. But then, as though compelled by an unseen force, he began to make his way through the throng, the container in his hand growing heavier with each step he took.

She noticed him before he reached her, her eyes widening in recognition, followed by a smile that had not changed in all those years. The same delicate curve that seemed to illuminate her entire face. It began softly at the corners of her lips, as it widened, her smile seemed to spill over, brightening her eyes until they sparkled with a warm, unspoken invitation. The fullness of her lips caught the light, the subtle dimples that appeared in her cheeks adding an almost childlike charm, a hint of playful innocence. The same smile that lingered long after it faded, the same smile he never forgot. “Charles!” She greeted, her voice carrying a blend of surprise and something gentler, something like familiarity tinged with warmth. “Hello,” he replied, striving for a nonchalance that belied the quickening of his heartbeat. “It’s been quite some time.”

They exchanged the customary pleasantries; the polite inquiries about life, careers, and family. Yet, all the while, Charles was acutely aware of the container in his hand, a silent testament to years of quiet devotion. As the conversation began to wane, he gathered his courage and took a steadying breath. “I, uh, I brought something for you.” He mumbled, his voice catching slightly. He extended the container towards her, his hand trembling ever so slightly. It was a simple plastic vessel, but its contents were far from ordinary — they were the culmination of years spent thinking of her.

She looked at it, curiosity knitting her brows together. “What is this?” She questioned, accepting the container from him with a gentle touch. “Rocks,” he stated painfully obviously, almost bashful. “I remembered how you used to collect them from every place you visited. So, I started collecting them for you. Every time I travelled to a new country for the F1 season or for the holidays, I made a point of finding a beach and picking up a rock.” Her eyes widened further, her gaze moving from the container to his face and back again, a look of astonishment mingled with something else, something like wonder. “You did that? All this time?” Her voice meek like she couldn’t believe someone would’ve done that for her.

He nodded, a flush creeping up his neck. “Yes, and there’s more. I used the Polaroid camera you gave me for my sixteenth birthday. I captured a photograph of the sea in every country I visited and I wrote the date and the location on each one, in my usual messy handwriting.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a bundle of polaroids, bound together with a fraying rubber band. He handed them to her, his heart thundering in his chest.

She took the photographs, her fingers brushing lightly against his, sending a spark of electricity up his arm. She leafed through them slowly, her eyes tracing the images — the endless, varied blues of oceans from around the world. She saw the dates and the names, scrawled in his familiar handwriting, each one a small, personal testament to his enduring thoughtfulness. Her eyes glistened, her smile deepening with each photograph she examined.

“Charles, I… I don’t know what to say,” she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. “This is… extraordinary. Thank you.” He shrugged, attempting to appear nonchalant, though his pulse was racing. “I just thought you might appreciate them. I remembered how much you loved collecting them, and I hoped… I hoped you still did.” She looked up at him, her eyes meeting him with an intensity that was almost disarming. For a long moment, they simply stood there, suspended in a silence that was laden with all the words left unsaid over the years — all the missed chances and unspoken sentiments. Yet in that silence, there was also a flicker of something new, a glimmer of possibility, a chance for renewal, for rekindling what had been lost.

“You always were the thoughtful one,” she said softly, her smile tinged with nostalgia. “I still collect them, you know. I never stopped.” He chuckled softly, relief flooding through him like a warm wave. “I’m glad, I was hoping that was still the case.” For a moment, they stood together in that small pocket of space by the trophy case, the rest of the reunion swirling around them like a distant, blurred backdrop. It was as if time itself had slowed, giving them a precious few moments to reconnect, to rediscover the connection that had once bound them so closely.

“I’ve missed you,” she confessed at last, her voice barely more than a whisper. “I’ve missed you, too,” he replied, the words flowing more easily than he had expected. “More than I can put into words.” They shared a smile — a new smile, one that spoke of second chances and the faintest hope of rekindling something once thought lost. As the evening wore on, they found themselves engrossed in conversation, reminiscing about the past, laughing over old memories, and uncovering how much they still shared in common.

And as they talked, the container of rocks and the stack of Polaroids sat beside them — a tangible reminder of time passed, and perhaps, a bridge to a future that was now just a bit more luminous, a bit more promising, with the prospect of a renewed friendship or perhaps something more — beckoning on the horizon.