A U R O R A // F1

Apr 8th, 2020. Monte Carlo, Monaco

Lando's weight was supported by a laughing Carlos. The young Brit held a clenched fist to his chest and had a dramatically desperate look on his face while both of them slowly walked back to our table.

I felt Daniel's sudden laughter ringing in my ear as he handed me a new drink.

"What the f happened to you?", I asked, already suspecting he was turned down.

"He got rejected by a girl, and this I love already, but the best part,", Carlos tried to suppress his laughter, "turns out her boyfriend was standing next to them the whole time!"

I failed at hiding a snort and reached out for him with my one free arm.

"You poor baby."

Just as I started patting his back and sipping on my third drink of the night, I noticed a new group of people entering the bar. I didn't think anything of it and was caught off guard when I realized that I knew some of the men, who were all in their 20s, looking rather sure of themselves. Out stood a tall guy with sleek brown hair and deep set eyes, dressed rather casually.

I froze and felt my body fill with annoyance. I tried moving away as subtle as possible, excusing me, then I made my way to the large terrace.

Sighing, I crossed my arms and leaned them on the railing, overlooking the decadent Mediterranean city by night.

"Is there something bothering you?", Charles asked, stepping up beside me. I took a deep breath.

"Yeah, I just saw Max coming in and I didn't expect him and now I'm annoyed."

"Why, did he say something to you?", he asked, a hint of anger flaming up in his eyes.

"Not directly. But did you hear the comment he made on my driving after Shanghai? I wasn't even searching for it, but that news article just popped up on my screen. And now it's burned into my brain". I supported my head with my hands, my elbows still resting on the railing.

"Ugh, I don't even know why this is bothering me so much. Maybe because he's not just some random journalist, but a great racing driver, or maybe just because I always assumed I'd get along well with him, we seemed so similar in so many things."

Charles leaned right next to me, facing my direction.

"He could be the pope and it still wouldn't allow him to speak poorly about you, let alone affect your mood like that. I don't know what's gotten into him this year, he's normally pretty chill. Just, please don't let him get to you."

I shrugged. I knew he was right. No matter who he was, I shouldn't let any comment from anyone affect my mood. I knew my worth as a driver, and as a person.

He calmed my nerves a bit further and I let him convince me to go inside again and luckily, him and the Red Bull crew members mostly kept to themselves, with noone at our table trying to get them over either. Charles probably hushed something in their direction, because even Daniel kept himself to our table, but I didn't mind tonight.

By midnight I was a little tipsy. As I made my way back from the bathroom, I nearly ran into the one person I tried to avoid the entire evening.

"Watch it", I quietly hissed at him.
In return, he turned around and stepped in front of me.

"Do you have a problem?"

I pouted and looked up at his face. I was about to open my mouth, but abandoned the thought as I wasn't in a mood for a scene. Instead, I slipped around him.

A hand grabbed me by my bare arm and spun me around again. I tore my arm out of his grasp and glared at him, baffled.

"Do not touch me.", I snarled at him.

"I asked you something."

"Jesus Christ, Verstappen, no, I don't have a problem. Maybe next time just leave me be and don't talk shit about me."

He mocked. "As if I'd care enough to talk shit about you."

"Oh come on, as if you seriously don't remember the comments you made when you were with Sky last week! You're in no position to allegate I'm just playing fucking bumper cars like a child – that was unnecessary and simply mean!", I spat out.

"What the fuck could I have said, they asked me about your performance!"

"And you mocked me! Please, some respect!". I noticed tension rising in the palm of my right hand.

He stepped closer to me and I saw his cheeks flush red with anger.

"It's called being honest you fake bitch. Maybe you'd understand if you stopped throwing yourself at every guy in the paddock to make them like y-"

The sound of flesh on flesh snapped through the room, letting heads turn in our direction from everywhere in the bar.

My hand left a mark on his cheek, quickly covered by his own hand. We both stared at each other in shock about what just happened. I started massaging the hand that I just slapped the Dutch driver with, which was beginning to get hot from the hit. I breathed in sharply, blinked and rushed past him outside, trying to avoid the stares and zone out the nervous chattering all around me.

The steps of my heels clicked on the pavement. I flinched when someone laid a coat around me, but relaxed again immediately when I saw who it was. The Monegasque made sure it covered my bare shoulders and handed me my purse which I left inside.

"Thanks.", was all I got out.

"I didn't hear what he said to you but I assume he deserved that.", Charles asked in his native language.

"I have never hit anyone ever before", I stated back in perfect french. ,"So much about always being the bigger person."

He chuckled. "You know what, fuck being the bigger person. This sport and its politics, it's cutthroat. So you better start biting people."

//

"That's me", I stated, stopping in front of the entrance of my hotel.

"Thanks for keeping me company, and walking me home and all.", I told him.

"I wanted to bail anyway. Your outburst just gave me the perfect opportunity.", he replied and I gave him back a smile.
We hugged goodbye, but I had to turn around once more to ask the question lingering in my head.

"Charles, can I ask you something? And, please don't be weird with me on that one, I'm actually concerned."

He gave me a slightly confused look, but nodded anyway.

"Do you think I'm flirting with you? Or with any of the other guys?"

He coughed. "Uhhh, no, no, I don't get the impression. Why, are you?", he raised his eyebrows.

"No", I chuckled and studied the marble floor beneath my feet. "But Max thinks so. I just wanted to know if anyone else feels the same way."
He shrugged slowly.

"You're just being friendly."

He saw that I wasn't satisfied with that. He sighed and scratched his head.

"You want me to be brutally honest here?"
I raised my eyebrows and he took a step and leaned into my direction, lowering his voice.

"From all the guys in the paddock, there's maybe a dozen that wouldn't love to sleep with you, and those are the ones in happy relationships. If any of the others would sense just a hint of flirtation in your voice, then" – he shook his head and chuckled, "believe me, you'd just know if you unintentionally flirted with someone. Good night, Suvi."

With that, he turned on his heels and left me awkwardly standing at the entrance.