Under the helmet | Charles Leclerc

~Chapter 11~

I push the accelerator and immediately pull into the inside racing line in order to give myself the best first corner, I notice Max right behind me in my wing mirror, fighting with George, Charles no where to be seen.

"Great start Maeve, try keep Max behind you, strategy 1, we have Charles on strategy 2." Albert informs me over the radio and I concentrate.

I call strategy 1 my favourite, and it's to defend and push, mainly used when your leading the race or on podium on the last few laps. My heart begins to pound like thunder, the adrenaline getting to me, Charles still not in sight in my wing mirrors. George still stuck behind Max, who is still pushing as hard as he can to overtake me. A couple of laps later, I gain a few seconds ahead of Max, which is enough time for me to box as my wheels are starting to wear away.

"Box this lap, box for wheels." Albert informs me.

"Copy, I'll box this lap" Agreeing with Albert I pull into the pit lane and the pitstop goes well and I end up still ahead of Max pulling out the pitlane. The last lap arrives quicker than I thought and I'm leading the race, Max has gained a few seconds though.

"come on Maeve, you've got this, don't let Max ahead of you." I hear a familiar voice which I don't expect, it's Charles.

"What are you doing on my radio?!" I shout at him.

"Engine failure. And, I'm sorry Maeve." He simply says over the radio.

I roll my eyes, and only push the car faster at the sound of his voice, making my blood boil remembering everything he'd said last night, getting angrier yet closer to the finish, Max get left in the dust as I push the car harder and harder, braking later and later, accelerating sooner, risking the chance of me not making a corner, which could be considered as reckless driving.

"Maeve, calm down amor." He declares, with a worried tone in his voice.

"Don't call me 'amor', and don't tell me what to do." I spat, I only drive more recklessly on the last three corners.

I reach the final straight and I see the checkered flag and I cross the line, overwhelmed, leading the grand prix, my first grand prix.

"Wooohooo!! Thank you so much guys!" I shout over the radio holding back tears.

"Thank you, Maeve, you've done amazingly, we're all so proud of you, Charles is punching the air sending his congrats." Albert says over the radio, I am glad it was him I heard first.

I pull into the pitlane behind the 'first place' spot. I practically jump out the car and punch the air, running over to the ferrari team and hugging them all, George pulls up third and I give him a huge hug, he lifts me up and spins me around. I also give Max a hug too.

"Congrats Maeve!!" The two shout over their helmets still on their heads.

Suddenly Charles wonders over, from his engine failure and congratulates George and Max on their podiums, he finally looks at me and congratulates me too. He is about to walk off when George grabs his arm. I notice that George might punch him, I also notice the cameras. I quickly go and stand in between the two, in front of Charles, facing George.

"Not now, there's cameras." I whisper lowly under my breath.

"But-" George tries to blurt out.

"George, he's not worth it, let go." I interrupt and place my hand on his, he lets go and Charles stays for a second, I turn around and look at his eyes, seeing sympathy in them. I turn back around to George and nod at him, rubbing his hand with my thumb, calming him down.

"Let's go to the podium." I say to Max and George, we sign caps, tops and take selfies with fans along the way.

Cameras flashing and shuttering, some paparazzi try to ask questions however, we all just walk straight to the podium, George walks on first, then Max then myself. The feeling on the podium is extremely surreal with the champagne everywhere and the team cheering you on and the overwhelming happiness which is just unmatched to any other feeling. I look down at where my team was and I see Charles looking up at me, he has that same sparkle he had in his eye the other day. I quickly tilt my head up to drink the champagne, or well, the remains of it, which isn't much. As I leave the podium, Viola comes up to me.