❝ there isn't a word to describe how much i hate you ❞
❝ would it help you find one if i hit you with a dictionary? ❞
✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊ- a story in which two rivals are given an ultimatum in order to save their careers while simultaneously fighting for the...
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THE CLOCK STRUCK EIGHT sooner than isabel had wanted. she'd gone for a run at six-thirty and had gotten back an hour later. by the time she had showered, she had to be down in the conference room of the hotel in just under five minutes.
wearing black cargo pants and her team's shirt and hat, isabel pushed open the door of the conference room. her eyes immediately landed on tori, but she noticed that there was someone else beside her. a man, possibly a bit older than tori was, in a navy shirt. and then she looked down at the only person sitting at the table.
max fucking verstappen.
tori's head perked up at the sound of the door opening. "ah, right on time," she smiled at her friend, ushering her inside with her hand. isabel considered letting the door shut and leaving, but the look tori was giving her . . . yeah, she couldn't. hesitantly, she stepped inside the room under the stare of the two pr managers that looked like parents about to discipline a child.
silently, isabel sat down at in a chair by the white table that was far enough away from max to satisfy her. "so . . ." she trailed off, unsure.
"okay," tori clasped her hands together, "we can begin. isabel," she gestured to the man beside her, "this is will, max's pr manager."
"bonjour," isabel greeted quietly, the cogs in her brain ticking furiously as she tried to figure what was going on.
"both of you have been issued warnings, correct?" will stated, getting straight into the reason as to why the two drivers and their managers were in the same room. "multiple warnings?"
