Formula One Reader Insert

Charles Leclerc; A Dance.

Summary of this is that you are at a masquerade ball, and Charles is taken in by you

I have very little else to say rn i really hope I did Charles justice with this, he's such a precious being
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Ferrari's post race parties were always a thing that people dreamt of attending. Men, women and those in between all dressed to the nines, suited and booted. Red drapes always adorned the pillars, champagne towers flowed freely with amber intoxicant, all the team/brand colours intricately woven into the decor of the ball room.
The man of the hour was due to arrive, many guests congregated at the bottom of the marble staircase, like subjects awaiting their king to arrive at the feast.

The twist for this year's event was anonymity, a criminally enticing theme of masquerade was a popular choice amongst the staff in Maranello, and with a Monogasque man as the guest of honour for the evening, a touch of French/Monogasque regalia from the renaissance was accepted. Charles and Carlos both opted to have specially tailored suits, both in the company red, however Charles opted for a double-breasted three piece suit with a two button jacket, whilst his Spanish companion chose to have a two piece suit, single-breasted with four buttons. They had both adorned modern masks, the guest would know who the men were, they weren't overly concerned about hiding their identities.

Before the men on honour walked through the doors, there was a young woman flitting about with a digital camera, her black floor-length one-shoulder dress attempting to foil her work, but not no avail. She was nimble enough to flex through the crowd, avoiding people both stepping on her dress as well as her toes, the closed kitten heels not providing much protection to the small digits. The mask that sat upon her face was red and green, it was a porcelain mask that had been spray painted those colours, the nose was countered with a yellow.

The double doors opened, all attention now focused on the stairs.

Carlos entered first, his hair was quaffed in the perfect direction, his hair team must've put a can of hairspray on to keep the unruliness at bay. He descended down the stairs and shook the hand of his coworkers and managers, but all attention returned when the clicking of dress shoes echoed through the once more hushed hall.

Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc.

The Man, the Lord, the Deity.

The wild round of applause that greeted him as he entered the doors was overwhelming for him to begin with. His cheeks turned a soft hue of red as he readjusted his mask to avoid showing any signs of discomfort. He scanned the crowd seeing many friends, his brothers and colleagues, but his eyes fell upon the young woman with a camera, the softened flash caught his attention, but then the striking colours of the mask that was coupled with the dress that fit just right was a standout against the room and other guests.

She was mesmerising.

(Y/N) (L/N) was a contracted photographer for Ferrari, and this was her first event. She would be sent to the races, but with this being the start of the two week summer break, there was little work for her besides this event, and since it was all subsidised by the company, she would have be a fool to decline such an offer.
Charles made his way down the stairs, his eyes not leaving the direction that the photographer was, until he reached Mattia and Carlos, the three all shaking hands and sharing in that embrace that men do. The older gent then took to the third step, and started reeling away in his speech.

"Ladies, gentleman, esteemed guests! May I have your attention please?" The Italian man called above the crowd, the guests all turning their heads towards him, (Y/N) took to the side of the marble staircase, resting just by a balustrade which rested in the final step.
"As many of you may know, this season has been rather successful compared to previous years for us, with the fresh faces of our drivers. This did continue with Carlos' maiden win in Silverstone," Mattia paused as Carlos slightly bowed to the crowd as they hollered. "Alas, he was unfortunate in Austria, however, our dear Charles carried the torch. So this evening, let us all raise a glass and have a fun evening to our outstanding drivers!"