behind cameras- c.l

eleven

I stand in front of mirror, analysing myself for a final fleeting minute as Alex calls my name from down the hall.

I'm wearing a skintight black dress with a strapless sweetheart neckline, hugging me in all the right places. I have a black blazer slung over my shoulders and I'm clutching the black bag I bought with Kika in my hand.

For shoes, I'm currently trying to chose between my black boots or silver high heels, with one shoe on each foot. Alex is calling me from the elevator doors now, while Lily hurries me on  from the door.

I quick fire choose the silver heels, kicking the boot off and grabbing the other heel, hobbling out of the room to put it on in the lift.

Alex is spam pressing the open door button in the lift, and Lily drags me by the arm down the hall and into the lift. Alex shuts the doors behind us and we plummet down to the ground floor as I finish tying up my shoe.

Looking at me reflection in the mirrored wall of the lift, I pat down my hair, which Lily has curled for me, giving it a lovely shape and volume.

My makeup is simply my classic burgundy lipstick, a thin winged liner and mascara, and a small highlight on my nose and inner corner. I've kept it simple with jewellery- just silver hoops and a few silver necklaces and rings. The silver matches the strap on my bag, and my shoes as well now.

As the elevator dings and the door slide open, Alex puts a hand on each of our shoulders and steers us out. We are running a whole half hour late.

He ushers us into the cab he's already called, and before I can say anything, we're off and away. Alex always does well under pressure, and hates being late or out of touch with other people.

"Can I breathe now?" I ask, stretching my arms above my head from the backseat.

Alex laughs sarcastically. "No, please don't. I'd rather it if you shrivelled up and died, if you wouldn't mind."

I reach forward and flick the back of his neck, making him wince and turn around, giving me the finger. I smile innocently at him and he glared at me, trying to hide his own smirk.

He sticks his tongue out at me, and Lily tuts, berating us both for our childish behaviour. We both try to keep a straight face, then look at each other for a split second and fall apart.

Lily sighs at us, directing the driver in the right direction herself.

Fifteen minutes later, we arrive at the restaurant Max has booked out, and Lily ushers us out, avoided the paparazzi, who heckle us from behind barriers as we walk in.

"Alicia, are you dating Alex?"

"Alex, are you signing for Mercedes next season?"

"Alicia, you've been seen a lot with George Russell, any comments on your relationship?"

"Lily, do you feel comfortable with Alicia so close in the paddock?"

Most of the comments fly over my head, but it just irks me how Lily and I get harassed about our personal lives, our dating lives, whereas Alex mostly gets questions about his job. Frankly, it's just annoying.

None of us say anything to the swarm of reporters, and the security guard lets us into the restaurant with no hassle. Max has booked a high end Japanese restaurant, and there's only a few tables of couples or small groups, either a rich date night, or a business dinner.

The waiter greets us and leads us round to the back and into a private room, where there's a big round table with around 30 seats. There's a window at the back with a gorgeous view of the city, and beautiful paintings on the walls.