𝙾𝚛𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚛𝚢┃ Charles Leclerc┃

Chapter Four - The Matriarch

A couple of hours had passed and I had happily filled up on food, had a fair few drinks, checked my sugar levels (of which were nice and steady) and partaken in introductions with most of the drivers, girlfriends and team principals. My nerves had been soothed and dissolved, and I was finally feeling as though I could relax.

I'd heard from my Dad, too, which always made me feel better.

I looked at the messages, grinning happily. I loved being Evie's best friend. She was only six years old, yet she knew me better than anyone. After our mother died, we grew closer than ever before. Evie didn't ever really understand what happened to our mum, so I did whatever I could possibly do to provide her with comfort and be the best substitute I could be. Our dad always said he felt outnumbered, and that us sisters were always conspiring against him, but he loved it really. We ended up as the three musketeers. Nothing could break us apart.

"Ana!" A voice echoed from behind me, raised to be heard over the music that swamped the room. "I need your help."

My phone disappeared back into my pocket, and as I turned around, I was greeted with a familiar yet frantic face.

"Charles." I smiled. "What can I do for you?"

"Are you any good at beer pong?"

I smiled. His accent made me smile. He said the word 'pong' in a funny way. "Er, no."

His head shook back and forth. "Doesn't matter. I need you anyway. Come on."

Charles had suddenly grabbed hold of my hand, and I was being pulled through the crowds of party-goers. I was smiling at people as I went, trying my best to be polite, but the faces I was passing were all turning into a congealed blur.

"My God, Charles, do you have to go so fast?!"

He let out a small chuckle. "Yes, ma chérie. We're here now anyway. I need you to help me win."

I had arrived at an oak dining table that had been converted into a make-shift beer pong competition. A scratchy cloth had been laid across the surface, and a smattering of red plastic cups were patterned on top. At the other end of the table to which Charles had just firmly plonked me, stood Lando and Carlos, grinning confidently.

"Hi guys!" I gave the pair a smile and wave from my end. Turning to Charles, a malicious grin of motivation pulled at my lips. "Oh, you didn't tell me that my competition was Lando. Now we've got to win."

Lando's cocky laugh boomed at the other side of the table. "Oh, you are on, Henderson. There's no chance! I'm the king of beer pong."

My expression fell so flat, so straight, that it was borderline reflexing. "You see what I have to put up with, Charles?"

Charles was chuckling as he arranged the red plastic cups on our end of the table into a neat triangle. "I hate to tell you, belle, but we've had to put up with him for years. You've got it all to come."