Turbulence [𝗠.𝗩.]

Tuesday, Free Day, May

Breakfast with @Charles_Leclerc! - @JessicaBond57

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MONACO
FREE DAY
MAY

"Look, I'm not a big spender! I love the I-Pace they gave me, but if I don't have to drive it, I'll drive my little Focus." I insist as Charles laughs at me.

I was due to fly off early to Spain, but an offer to spend time with the Prince of Monaco isn't something to turn down. And I don't regret it. Charles has been easy to speak to, and he's surprisingly funny. I should have tried to hang out with him sooner.

"But you have money now, Why not buy a nicer car, a house somewhere in the countryside?"

"The sort of car I like is for someone with more money than sense, and if I bought everything I wanted I'd have no money left. And I'm gonna sort out a place for my parents first. They poured everything into this. But I have to be careful how I do it because the taxman will take what he damn well pleases out of it."

Charles nods in what I think is understanding. I suppose, though, since he's lived in a tax haven his whole life, he might not entirely get how much of a pain it is to deal with that shit.

"HMRC will go for me so fast, seriously. They'll think it's tax-dodging, or they'll try and charge inheritance tax... it's really stupid. I think I'd have to buy a home out here, probably, but they're happy in England."

"Would you move to Monaco?"

The question throws me. Would I? It would certainly have its benefits, given there's practically no tax on a person's income and not much more on businesses. I'd be able to socialise more with other drivers - quite a few drivers live here. And I'd be relatively close to most of the European races. Plus they have some strict laws that stop paparazzi from bothering people...

"I wouldn't say no... just... not yet, I think. It's a lot, to move out of your home country. But financially, I guess it makes sense... Would I have to learn French? I'm really bad at it."

He laughs as he shakes his head, and I'm glad I've managed to not fumble this conversation. I'm already aware, painfully so, of the whispers about me. I'm the weird one who flies economy and likes driving a five-year-old car that I can't be bothered to get the paint job redone on because I'm not home enough to get it sorted. I think only Pierre and Esteban have a decent understanding of the first part of my weirdness.

"I'm trying to learn more French. And German. And Finnish. Less of the last one, because it's bloody impossible."

Charles laughs again and I start to wonder if I've just veered back into weirdo territory when he speaks and dispels the worry. "You are so... honest, Jess. It's nice. You are who you are. No persona."

"I think it helps that I have the social awareness of a flea-ridden cat."

Now we're both laughing. A few people at nearby tables are staring at us, but they quickly return to whatever they are doing as we try to quiet down.

"You're better than some. You don't try too hard, you're just you. A bit strange sometimes, but everyone has that about them. You make it suit you, how you talk and how you act."

"Well, I kinda have to." I place my cup down, realising I've been just awkwardly hovering it above the small plate. "I am who I am, I can't change that, just like you can't change who you are. Don't get me wrong, sometimes I wish I could shut the fuck up, but sometimes it's impossible to stop myself. I hop from one topic to another with ease - you've heard me do it already - and I have this moment when it happens where I'm cringing at myself and thinking oh god, now they think I'm weird."