Curve of fate - Charles Leclerc X Male Reader [CURRENTLY EDITING]

Chapter 1

Today is the day. The day I put on the Mercedes race suit. I have reached my dream of being a F1 driver. The feelings that are mustering within me are strange and almost alien to me, whilst I have raced in front of people before in F3 and F2 and felt the mix of anxiety, excitement and eagerness, these feelings seem to be culminating more and more as time passes. Toto approaches me, he has a look of pure anticipation, 'Y/N' he exclaims with a sense of understanding I need a distraction 'How are you feeling?' he asks with a genuine tone of concern - however, that interrogative question doesn't resonate with me and I question 'Is this guy for real? Can't he see how I am?'. Not wanting to cause pandemonium and panic for him before the race I reply with a simple 'fine'.

Toto guides me towards the garage where my car awaits, whilst there has been a major transition period into F1, it hits me like a kick to the stomach, this is really happening, I am handed my helmet and place it over my head, I climb over into my car whilst simultaneously murmuring to myself 'stay calm, don't panic' repeatedly, I zone out trying to remember all of the practice runs we have done. I am quickly snatched out my thoughts by:

'And Y/N Radio check'

'Yep, copy - all clear'

And then, my car starts, my heart is pulsating more than ever, as I emerge into the pit lane and make my way to the rack to form up in P7 I see a sea of people, the thousands of people who are at the first Grand Prix of the season cheering in unison, excited for the first race of the season. The entirety of my lap up to the grid is filled with nerves and anxiety, which is not helped by the fact I nearly stalled the car in the pit lane.

I hop out the car and have some final chats with the engineering team and my race engineer as well as doing a few last minute interviews with some journalists before I am allowed to get back in the car in preparation and anticipation for the race.

I look to my left and see Lando who is in P6, however my engineer quickly brings me out of my train of thought 'OK Y/N we have 10 seconds to the formation lap, be ready and focus'. The lights go out for the formation lap and all goes well and I am content with myself and how I have prepared the car. Then we are back at the start however, this wait is more agonising than previously. My eyes glued to beaming red lights waiting for them to extinguish, the second they did I felt an instant kick of adrenaline that gave a sense of pure ecstasy.

After completing 32 out of the countless laps I have to do I am sat in P2, where I can see a beaming red Ferrari in my rear view:

'Who's behind me?' I ask

'Y/N that is Leclerc behind you, the gap is 0.7 seconds'

I pedantically accelerate trying to pull away and create a gap, however it is to no avail he edges closer and closer, we enter turn 3 and he gets way to close and clips my rear tyre causing me to veer of the track, I manage to get back on track but I realise I have damage, I take my pure anger and direct it at the undeserving ears of my engineer and whilst I am known for my furious radio communications, so much so I was known as 'The F2 Yuki Tsunoda', not for my height but my rage, I regret my emotions coming through that strong.

'FOR FUCKS SAKE THAT FUCKING DICK HE FUCKING GOT TOO CLOSE AND PUSHED ME OF THE TRACK AND MY FUCKING TYRE IS FUCKED I NEED TO BOX.... PRICK'

Growing up around British engineers clearly was shown by my colourful vocabulary, that was often disapproved of by my parents.

Y/N Clam down, its OK, box box'

I box and come back on to the track now in P10, miraculously by lap 50 I am sat in P3, I edge my foot on the accelerator more and more trying to close the gap, when I hear 'And Y/N that is Leclerc ahead, the gap is 0.9 seconds try and keep it clean', it is at this moment I see Charles diving towards Max to try and take P1, I see this as my opportunity to take P1. The two are preoccupied fighting for P1 so much so that they can't see me coming along the left side as we enter turn 18 they stay on the outside whilst I take the inside line, I frantically accelerate when I hear my engineer go 'THAT'S P1 KEEP THIS UP AND YOU WILL BE A GRAND PRIX WINNER'.

We now enter the final lap of the Grand Prix and somehow in the midst of all my racing thoughts I still somehow manage to get a glance in my rear view mirror and see Charles still attempting to overtake however as we enter turn 18 and are zooming down the straight my dream becomes a reality.

'Y/N YOU ARE A LEGEND YOUR FIRST EVER RACE AND YOUR FIRST EVER GRAND PRIX WIN' My engineer booms down the radio but it is soon reciprocated by me

'HOLY SHIT... DID YOU SEE WHAT WE JUST DID... WE JUST FUCKING WON THE FIRST RACE OF THE SEASON... THANK YOU, THANK YOU SO MUCH', I am in total disbelief and am perplexed at what had just happened as I pull into park at the number 1, I am only too eager to get out of the car that served me so well, I rush over to my team who stand their awaiting me, I jump on my race engineer and Toto and wrap my arms around them, as I hug each member individually, I make my way to the cool down room and see ... him ... Charles Leclerc standing there almost as if he was pre-empting me entering. I think about what I will say to him, only what I should and want to say doesn't come out, instead it is a diatribe.