❝ 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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( dialogue in italics until the first linebreak is them speaking french! it's just easier this way )
"I CAN PRETEND I did not drink a fuck ton," isabel said to noah as she tried to combat her headache. "maybe i just blame you."
noah shrugged as they walked through the paddock. "no one's gonna care. it was your birthday."
"maybe," isabel wished that her sunglasses were impossibly darker to block out the barely-visible light still. "i have to listen to stupid questions. no thanks."
it was thursday and she was now currently sitting on the same couch as charles, pierre, daniel and fernando after saying goodbye to noah. questions had been bouncing around between pierre, daniel and fernando whilst isabel and charles engaged in a french conversation with each other.
"we still didn't talk about baku," charles whispered to isabel. he slid closer to her until they were side-to-side, breaking the usual distance the drivers kept from each other. they'd hardly been asked any questions so far and they assumed that it would probably continue that way. "what's going on?"
"you know the pr thing right?" when he nodded, she continued, "it's not fair to fuck him over when i'm . . . i'm quitting at the end of the year." she made sure to leave names out of it in case any of it was picked up.
charles' eyes widened exceptionally. "what?" he whispered a little louder this time. pierre heard him and shot him a look of questioning that charles shook his head at.
"i wasn't going to tell you in a fucking conference," she rolled her eyes. "but yeah. i'm—"
"and isabel," the voice of a woman out in the sea of media personnel echoed. isabel and charles' heads snapped up to the sound of her name.
"hi, sorry," isabel pasted an attentive smile on her face.
"what are you two chatting about?" she asked the siblings.
"my birthday," isabel said before charles could come up with anything else. "sorry again."
the woman shook her head with a small smile. "that's actually what i wanted to ask about. happy birthday for monday . . . how was it?"
