Fifty Shades Of Red | Charles Leclerc

2. Ferrari

Hailey's pov

I walk into my private driver's room as soon as I enter the garage, ignoring everyone who wanted to talk to me. Once I'm in, I lock the door and I let free a long sigh. My head is still spinning from the events that took place earlier.

Is this really what I've dreamt of?

I knew that driving in Formula One wouldn't be easy and it would come with a bag full of obstacles and difficulties, but I can't help but feel like even though most of the drivers are kind to me, no one really wants me here...like I don't belong here.

My thoughts are soon interrupted by a knock on my door.

"Hailey, it's me, let me in." Max's voice could be heard from the other side of the door.

I really don't feel like talking to anyone right now and would rather be left alone in my own misery, but I can't send Max away. I don't have the heart to. Not when he's only trying to help...

I unlock the door and walk away, letting Max walk himself inside. His figure soon appears, examining my state from head to toe.

"Hey, are you alright?" He asks quietly, once he closes the door.

I grab my water bottle on top of the table and take a sip from it since my throat is dry but more because I don't know what to do with my hands and I'd rather have them occupied instead of shaking uncontrollably.

"I'm fine." I shortly answer him before turning my back to him. Hopefully this way he might not be able to tell that I'm lying.

It's quiet for a bit and I start to think that Max probably left but then I feel a hand grip my lower arm, gently turning me around. His other hand comes up to brush away a fallen piece of my hair that was covering my face before letting it hang on his side.

"You don't have to do that." Max says softly, his eyes trying to get me to look at his.

"Do what?"

"Lie to me." He says and I put my hand on his, trying to get myself free from his loose grip, while I look at everything and at nothing at the same time, not wanting to hold eye contact.

I know he's being nice, but a pat on the shoulder would be enough. We don't have to get all emotional and talk about our feelings. At least I don't think that's how being teammates who work together works. Isn't it supposed to be strictly professional? Or did I miss something during training...

"I can see how that asshole hurt you, alright? You don't have to pretend-"

"Max, I said I'm fine." I say while walking away and sitting on the nearby couch, trying to provide myself some distance, but Max walks towards me, taking a seat beside me.

"You can talk to me Hailey. I'm here for you." Max says and reaches to hold my hand.

I'm here for you.

The unfamiliarity of those simple words sting my ears. No one has ever been there for me. Not for a while. Lately I've always been on my own. On my happy days? On my own, having no one to share a laughter with. On my sad days? On my own, having no one to share the burden and pain with.

But this time it's different because Max understands. He understands the desire to win, the heartbreak of not being able to cross a finish line. Sitting here with him makes me realise that we're more similar than I thought and that more than anything else that we have in common, we share a rival.

"I'm going to go and talk with Christian." I tell Max, getting up from my seat, not wanting to stay in the same room with him anymore, scared that I'll dump all my trauma on him, scared that he'll see through my mask and see not a strong woman but just a vulnerable little girl.