Loud and Clear (F1 x CL16)

4. Conflicted

"AND THAT IS A WIN FOR BRIGITTE LARUE! HER FIRST VICTORY EVER IN FORMULA ONE!" The commentator screamed as I crossed the finish line.
"Amazing job, Brigitte. That is P1!" My engineer said on the radio and I heard some cheering on the background.
"Thank you guys! Thank you for everything." I said over the radio. My first victory. Unbelievable!
"No thank you, Brigitte, for driving for us. Red was made for you." My engineer said and suddenly it didn't feel real.

Light flashed behind my eyelids and a sound of a crisp bag being opened made me fall back into the real world. My head laid on something firm, but soft at the same time. I snuggled closer and sighed. Oh, how I wished that dream was real. My first victory, with Ferrari. It would be an absolute dream.
I took a deep breath through my nose to let my pounding heart calm down a bit. But it only began to race harder. The scent that went through my nose made me fully awake. The scent of vanilla... where did I know that from?
Charles.
With a shock I sat upright. I was sleeping on Leclerc's shoulder. Shoot me dead. My eyes were adjusting to the brightly lit space and I looked at the man who I just had my head rested on. And he was looking right into my eyes.
"Slept well?" He asked as if he cared. But he didn't. He was just pissed I was sleeping on his shoulder.
"Awfully. How long was I out?" I asked him. Hoping I only laid on him for like half an hour.
"About seven hours." My eyes widened. Seven hours? God that's embarrassing.
"I'm sorry for uhm— laying on your shoulder. I normally lay on Pierre's when we have a long flight." I was so embarrassed.
"No worries, I'm used to it." Charles said and something switched. Of course he's used to it. It's not like he's not a super hot guy who would hook any girl he wanted.
"Well technically I can't. I like a girl who seems to not be interested in me." Charles said to me and once again, my eyes widened. I just said that out loud. To the man I was talking about. Shoot me dead multiple times. "But thanks for thinking that I'm a super hot guy." Was he actually serious now?
"Go irritate yourself, Leclerc." I said and turned around. The window was now my best friend for the last 3 hours of this flight.

We landed, got our luggage and took a quick coffee along the way to the garage. It was a quick walk to the car. And luckily I was redeemed from that stupid Leclerc. He wanted to join us, but we came here with the Porsche, which was a two-seater. So Charles had to take a cab. Thank the gods. It was like they listened to my silent prayer while I was on the plane.
"You really don't like him, huh?" Pierre said as I drove onto the main road, leaving the airport behind.
"How could I? He's a selfless prick. He just cares about his looks." I bit back to Pierre.
"Well if you just had a conversation with him that was longer than 20 seconds you might actually see that he is a nice person." Pierre explained and my thoughts drifted back to a few hours after the race was over. Charles came by and.. talked to me. And that was a long conversation for us. 2 minutes or something in total, wherefore 1 minute was just him staring at me. And I knew that he was a nice person if I talked to him longer. But him making me blush was for me a sign to back up. No talking, no being together. I hated him, and would never forgive him for that karting accident.
"I know he took you out like 12 years ago, but don't you think it's time to move on? He seems to like you." Pierre said the unthinkable.
I chuckled. "Yeah sure. Him liking me." I rolled my eyes. "He hates me, P. I think he hates me just as much as I hate him. Only I don't know his reason." Indeed. I didn't know the reason why he was always mean to me. But than to think, was he ever really mean to me? He was just distant. We never talked, never came close to each other. So how could he be mean to me? He wasn't. "You know what. I'll try."
"Try what?" Pierre sounded confused.
"Try to like him. I have almost two full weeks to do so, right?" I looked over at my best friend. And he was absolutely flabbergasted.
"You wouldn't." He said.
"Watch me." I said back.

Eight days later
And he was right. I wouldn't. We had been back home for eight days now. And I hadn't even looked Charles in the eye yet. I just locked myself into my apartment and didn't let anyone come in. Pierre, who was my neighbour, tried to get me out. But I didn't. Until now. All the food was eaten and I had only some milk and apples left. It was time to get some groceries. I checked if there was anyone in the hallway, than closed the door as soft as possible and walked downstairs to the garage. I had picked the Mercedes for today. It was a nice car and didn't look like a super car. I at least wouldn't get a lot of attention from this car.
I opened the garage and drove out. It was a 10 minute ride to the grocery store.