Style // 𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙇𝙚𝙘𝙡𝙚𝙧𝙘

31.

Qualifying Results:
P1 MAX VERSTAPPEN
1:29.304

P2 CHARLES LECLERC
1:29.314

P3 CARLOS SAINZ
1:29.361

The crowd cheers, whistles and applauds their drivers from behind the photographers, totally hypnotised by the celebrities standing before them. I'm surrounded by people with far too much money to their name, spending it on a ticket just to get within a couple meters of the racers.

I think realisation has hit me like a brick wall. I always thought that the races were the best thing in the world to attend, especially as a WAG alongside a driver. You walk onto the track with him, you stay together for every part of it, you cheer him on from inside the garage. You watch him lift a trophy- if he gets one- and you go back to the hotel for a gourmet meal and ridiculously expensive drink to celebrate. My delusional self believed that was how every race went, as social media portrays it to every single young girl, such as me, striving to be a WAG.

I couldn't do this. It's so far from a 'normal' life. I know that my life is far from normal, having a higher-paid job and living in one of the richest places in the world. But, I still do every day things, like work a normal job, look after my own home without a maid, and go out and see my friends on a weekend. All of that, without having to worry about a photographer following me, or someone recognising me on the street and saying "Oh, you're Charles' girlfriend, can we get a photo?'.

I follow with the crowd as we disappear, dispersing in random directions. I'm the only one here truly on my own, experiencing this 'once in a lifetime opportunity' by myself. Charles brought me here, but he's busy 24/7. 25/8, even. The only time we see one another is in the evening, when he should ideally be resting for the next day. What's the point in that, only seeing each other after midnight hours in my hotel room?

I retreat to the paddock club lounge, perching down on the sofa on my own. A few others make their way into the lounge, the rest going back to their hotel room to get ready for a fancy three-course-meal. If Suzuka was a bit closer to the main cities, I would be straight out of here, finding a restaurant as far away as possible to eat food.

I pull my phone out of my pocket, going to my messages. I've already gave Stella an update on mine and Charles' last conversation. Once again, she's not impressed. Not angry, but pitiful, for once. She dislikes the way Charles has the bravery to admit he's seeing someone to my face, and then ask me if I'm going to watch practice and qualifying. Which, I did.

Stella
How was qualifying?

Me
Fine

Fine is so far from the truth. I'm currently living in limbo, I'm homesick, and I cannot wait to go home. I'm stuck between calling things off with Charles now before it gets messy, or risking it and seeing it through. My mind is clouded, making everything I see feel like a total blur. This lifestyle makes me feel just as fake as what I see online.

Me
I just want to come home
Charles still hasn't properly told me why I'm here

Stella
He probably feels guilty that he took Charlotte and felt he had to take you

He's taken Charlotte to these things before, but that was before we started talking again. I didn't care less when I saw her with him at Bahrain, just days after we called things off. Or at the other races in between, when I totally forgot about his existence for a few blissful months. It's only last weekend that's bothered me. He's 100% been seeing Charlotte the entire time we've been together, but I'm the one who was conveniently around the corner in Monaco.

Me
Then why wouldn't he let me walk onto the paddock with him?
Sorry, still a bit obsessed with this

Stella
I couldn't tell.
It's not like you've been going on and on and on about a paddock walk for the last couple of years or anything.
Anyway!
Does he know about you and Elliot?

Me
Not sure?

Charles knows about Elliot, he isn't the assistant's biggest fan. I look away from my phone in thought, staring around the room. It's progressively getting busier by the minute, and I'm taking up a whole sofa that many strangers are eyeing up. I look back to my phone as my face flushes, avoiding all eye contact.

Oh- didn't Charles call me after my date with Elliot? He did! I let it slip that I was out with him, just as the two of us. I remember that night, how I went from sitting on cloud nine to sitting on a thundercloud, trashing my cheerful mood in the matter of seconds.

Me
Oohhh
I accidentally told him we went on a date

Stella
You are
Such
A dumbass

"Excuse me?"

I inhale as I look up, coming face to face with the woman who indirectly called me a 'nobody' yesterday. Once again, she's dressed up for a ball rather than a race, accompanied by who I can only assume is her husband. Another couple stands behind them, staring at me with a deadpan faces that haven't expressed a laugh in years.

"Do you mind if we take these seats?" She asks, holding her hands together. "There's other- smaller tables- for yourself to sit at."

Entitled bitch. "Sure, apologies."

Do you remember what I said earlier, about people having far too much money to be spending it on an F1 ticket just so they're within an arm's reach of the drivers? That woman is a perfect example! I look back to my phone as I walk away, ignoring the scoffs and mutters as people impatiently make their way around me.

Stella
He's taken you there to get you away from Elliot!
He's jealous that you're seeing someone else!
Have you even text Elliot this weekend?

Me
...No
But he hasn't text me either

Stella
You're forgetting about that case him and Mark have been dealing with.
He hasn't had time to scratch his ass ffs.
Text him ASAP!

I haven't even told Elliot I'm here! What would I say if he asks where I am, and what the hell I'm doing at an F1 race? Not only that, but why am I here alone? I cannot tell him I'm here with Charles, it would destroy him! All those excuses I told Stella, about Elliot lying to me and running back to his ex, I've only gone and done it myself! I can't tell him, I won't tell him.