The Surrogate

Social Media Sucks

Thursday March 10th, Bahrain.

This is the start of Formula One's second and last test sessions. The winter break is well and truly over and feels like it's gone past in the blink of an eye. The 2022 season is just around the corner and Seb's focus is very much on learning more about the car and gaining as much data as he can for the team ahead of next weekend's opening race.

Holly's focus is on the fact that all of a sudden she finds herself unable to disguise the fact that she's pregnant and that it's going to become public knowledge and she's worried about the effect it'll have on him. She'd just about got away with it in Barcelona, two weeks ago. It had been cooler there and she'd been able to disguise her tummy underneath jumpers and coats and had spent a lot of time in hospitality away from media lenses. Here however, it's warmer and the jumpers and heavy coats aren't needed.

With the state of their relationship still secret, they don't hold hands as they leave his loaned, red Vantage behind them in the car park and she hooks her large, tan coloured bag over her arm as they walk, trying her best to hold it in front of her bump which is clearly visible in her clingy, pale grey, jersey dress. Even her pale denim jacket doesn't disguise it.

"Don't worry," Seb mutters quietly, briefly holding a hand in front of his mouth to hide what he's saying from the lenses he can see waiting ahead of them, "if they don't find out now, they'll only find out later."

"What about you?" she asks.

Their hands occasionally brush against each other's as they walk and he tries to hide the slight smile as he feels little tingles from the small, innocent contact, "what about me?"

"They'll be on your back."

"That's for me to think about, not you, I'm taking care of everything, remember?"

Her stomach churns; although his tone doesn't suggest it, his words are a reminder that he knows their unusual situation is still the same, that she could still walk away in a matter of months. Knowing how much he's fallen for her, she wonders how he's coping with knowing that their relationship might end when she gives birth. She can only guess that it hurts him as much as it does herself, maybe more.

It's like some kind of weird setup when it happens; they scan their passes at the turnstiles and enter the paddock, Seb's immediately approached by someone for a photo and Holly, who's still carrying her bag on her shoulder after scanning in, is swarmed by journalists and photographers - her small baby bump visible for them all to see.

Hearing some commotion, his head snaps to the right and he's quick to realise what's going on, quick to see her more or less surrounded, caught off guard and completely helpless with lenses trained on her and phones thrust in her face to record anything she might say. Her eyes find his and she doesn't have to say a word for him to know that she's not comfortable with this at all.

His protective mode kicks in and it only takes a couple of strides for him to reach her. "Hey!" He snaps loudly, barging his way through them, "enough!" Reaching for her arm, she finds herself pulled against his solid chest, his arm sweeping around her to form a protective shield as he makes his feelings clear by yelling at the journalist who's closest to them, "show some decency and respect, back off and leave her alone!"

They scatter away like scolded cats, leaving the two of them alone. She steps back out of his protective hold to find him glaring angrily in the direction that the journalists have left and a glance over her shoulder reveals one that's not strayed that far away and is taking photos from near the Haas hospitality unit.

He utters a tense, "come on," and ushers her on with a hand on her back which he doesn't remove until they reached the sanctuary of his hospitality building.