lemon and mint | Charles Leclerc

~ trentaquattro ~

Monte Carlo, August 2019

Pia was holding her phone in her hands – switching from one app to another. She stopped on Instagram – scrolling through her posts. She looked so happy in all of them. There was one when she was hugging Sebastian tightly with a smile on her face, it was a picture taken in Monaco this year when he finished second. There was one with her little brothers – her mother took the photo as they sat together in the garden - their back facing her while Pia's arms were around the boys. A mirror selfie where she showed her tanned skinny belly. A photo of the picnic in London with Lando. A picture of her swimming in the sea shoot from above. A photo of her and Max while they were doing some tricks with football in the paddock. All of it screamed how lucky and happy she was. Only if, she thought.

The reason why she held her phone in the first place was that she needed to make a phone call. A phone call that she didn't want to make so she tried to keep her mind occupied with other things. She even played Candy Crush for a bit.

The Italian started to bounce with her leg as she dialled Charles' number. Please don't pick up, please don't pick up, she repeated in her head, but then the husky voice coming from the phone greeted her. Of course, he picked up.

"Hey," Pia greeted the Monegasque. "Ehm, how are you?" she asked him even though she wasn't actually interested in it. She didn't even want to call him in the first place.

"Great. I'm about to go to the gym with Arthur." Oh, yeah, the younger Leclerc who hated her. The Italian thought if they ever would be okay again. She still cared about Arthur. He was always like a little brother to her, so Arthur hating her hurt her dearly. "What about you?"

"Well... I told my mum about my struggles with eating," the Italian said to him. She wanted to let him know that she would get help and that he didn't have to talk to her parents.

"What about the other thing?" he asked her. She wasn't sure whether he was beating around the bush because Arthur was with him or because he struggled with saying it out loud.

"I couldn't tell them," she whispered. "I promise I won't do it again," the Italian promised to Charles. It was just a one-time thing anyways. She just needed to find a way to transform all that pain into something else. Hurting herself seemed like something that might help, but she regretted it right away. It wasn't an answer to any of her questions.

"I would like to trust you, but I can't. This is way too serious." The disapproval in his voice was clearly hearable.

"You never trusted me in the first place," she let out quietly. She didn't want to argue but was too tired to filter her words. Normally, it was something Charles loved about Pia. There was something so refreshing about having someone who wasn't controlling their words because it meant that they were honest.

"I'm not doing this," the Monegasque sighed. "I know what you're trying to do, but it won't work this time," Charles warned her. She wanted to make him angry, so he would drop the self-harming thing. She used this way to get away from things already years ago. Some things never change, Charles thought.

"Look," he said before he sat down on the bench. The Monegasque knew his younger brother watched him as he ran his hand through his hair. The Ferrari driver could see the disrupted look on his brother's face. He clearly wanted to know what was going on.

Charles wanted to come up with some reasonable solution, but he wasn't able to. This situation didn't have an easy solution. It was killing him inside.

"Let me see you again. Let's meet up in Genoa and talk for some more. You'll explain everything to me, and we can figure things out then. What do you say?" Charles asked the Italian calmly. He knew Andrea was waiting for him, so he didn't really have time for a long talk.