Casseè girl

Chapter 1 ~ Spa

Writers notes : thank you for clicking on my story. Just so you know this story is only mature because of the language occasionally used and because of a slight alcohol usage but there is not many inappropriate scenes because I don't feel comfortable talking about the drivers like that.

And also I use Madeline Cline (and sometimes Carla Brocker) as Y/n's face just because I think she's a very pretty person but if she's not who you'd choose than I'm very sorry. She doesn't have anything to do with f1 or 2 (I don't think) so all of this is all fake May I remind you xx.

Y/n's POV :
I woke up early that morning with my alarm clock wringing loudly in my ears. I slapped it lightly and it switched off. I sat up in bed and looked out of the window.

The beautiful Oxfordshire country side sending orange light through it and onto my walls.

'Y/n come on let's go !' My mum called from downstairs.

I quickly put on some tracksuit bottoms and a zip up hoodie that showed the white top that I was wearing underneath it. I put my hair up in a messy bun and grabbed my bags, I ran downstairs.

Today I was going to Spa to meet my father after 21 years. I haven't seen him since I was 3 and I was wondering if he'd even remember me, what I look like, or even if he remembers that he has a daughter.

When I reached the bottom of the stairs my mum took my bags although I protested against it.

We walked out of the house together and she put my suitcase in the boot of the car.

My car was a silver blue Porsche 911 it was beautiful and I had saved up for it since I got my license. I got in the drivers side and my mother sat in the passenger seat.

I drove us to the airport, along the way we laughed and talked. Just as we always had, I would miss this.

When we arrived she went to get my bags, I followed her around the back of the car.

'You don't have to get my bags mum.' I reminded her. She waved her hands around like she always did.

'Honey, it's the last few moments with you, let me do everything for you.' She excused.

'Mum I'm going to a few formula one races, I'm not dying.' I giggled. She moved a strand of hair out of my face, she placed it behind my ear and pulled my face close.

'You call me as much as you can, and if your father does anything you come straight back home to me okay ?' She said in a strict tone.

'Okay.' I replied.

She pulled me into a tight hug and walked me to the entrance of the airport.

The check in through security was quick and before I knew it I was waiting for my flight at my gate.

. . .

I took my book out of my bag and played my music on full volume in each of my ears.

A middle aged man sat beside me, he had slick back hair and was wearing an old mclaren shirt. He stuck his head over my shoulder and laughed to himself for a moment.

I took one of my airpods out and looked at him. Turns out he was nosey too.

'You actually like the spice girls ?' He stared down at my phone.

'It's only one song.' I replied politely.

'I hate them.' He commented, 'especially ginger spice.' I put my AirPod back in but didn't turn the music on so I could hear his reply.