In the realm of music, there exists a captivating song known as "Cornelia Street," penned by Taylor Swift. The nostalgia and longing for a past relationship. The lyrics describe memories of walking down Cornelia Street in New York City, where the si...
This year I got asked if I would like to deal With the Mercedes-AMG Petronas headquarters. So I would have to move to Brackley. So that's what I did, I have way more responsibility here and instead of traveling so much, I get to live in one place. I was in my office doing paperwork and making sure all the contracts and content looked okay. I was going through every single contract reading them carefully.
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"Oh Ivy I completely forgot to tell you but we have a meeting in 20 if that's okay," I nodded and went back to my paperwork.
I've been pondering about my father, and as my thoughts drifted, I suddenly recalled the task of shredding some papers. I fed them into the shredder, observing as they transformed into useless pieces. Afterward, I prepared myself a cup of coffee, taking my time to amble towards the room where our office activities were unfolding.
Upon my arrival, I noticed that everyone had settled into their seats. I greeted them with a smile and took my seat. Claire, the person leading the discussion on how we could enhance our marketing strategies, was engrossed in her talk. She delved into various aspects, including potential sponsorships.
However, during the serious discussion, someone injected a lighthearted joke that managed to capture my attention. It added a touch of humor to the meeting, momentarily diverting our focus from the more formal topics.
"The guys are doing good but McLaren is really on their arse," Jacob said jokingly making the room break into laughter
"Wait McLaren is succeeding," I asked not knowing because I tend to ignore the races, every time I try watching I focus on the wrong team. On the team that has my ex-boyfriend.
"Yes, Sinclair! Have you been living under a rock," at this point I would say I do, I had no news on the races.
After the meeting got wrapped up, I strolled back to my office and eased into my chair. My gaze drifted outside the window, revealing a bustling parking garage filled with a collection of cars. Nostalgia crept in, evoking memories of my time on the racetrack, tagging along with the guys. Yet, my current job has granted me a newfound appreciation for my academic achievements. I really love this job but I'll be honest, it gives me way too much time to think about the Las Vegas situation. I think about so often wondering, why wasn't enough. Why wasn't I enough that he had to run back to her?
As I reflected, my eyes lingered on a photograph adorning my office wall—a photo of me standing proudly beside Max and Lewis. The friendship and shared experiences with those two are dearly missed. Oddly, I find myself hesitating to set foot on a racetrack again, primarily due to the tension of facing Lando.
Our story took a turn for the worse, and unfortunately, the aftermath wasn't as challenging for him as it was for me. Upon receiving some intel about Lando, I reached out to Charles to seek clarification. Surprisingly, this information hit me harder than I expected. It turns out that Lando has been thriving throughout the entire season, consistently scoring points and even securing a coveted spot on the podium.
Intriguingly, when Esteban shared this news with our group of friends, he playfully suggested that Lando's success could be attributed to the absence of a certain problem in his life. Shockingly, that "problem" was identified as me. It stung me to realize that I was being viewed as an obstacle in Lando's life. The pieces of the puzzle seemed to align in a way that, oddly enough, made sense of the situation.
It's been five months since I last encountered him in Las Vegas. The upcoming break holds the promise of a return to Monaco, a possibility that fills me with anticipation. Reuniting with friends and family is what I'm looking forward to, finally being able to see them after months, I basically stopped being as chatty to the drivers after Las Vegas. If it wasn't for Max, checo, Charles, Carlos, Pierre, and the two Mercedes boys. I wouldn't make conversation. The prospect of stepping back into the familiar surroundings of Monaco, coupled with the excitement of reconnecting with loved ones, adds a sense of joy to the prospect of the impending break.
In addition to the revelations about Lando's success, Charles told me about what happened at a club. When Esteban made the somewhat hurtful comment about me being the source of trouble in Lando's life, sparked a rather unexpected reaction. Pierre, the overprotective friend ever since our younger days, responded by throwing a punch at Esteban. I slightly smiled when Charles told me, actually that's a lie; it was a huge grin.
This protective instinct is not new for Pierre. Both he and Charles have always hated when others had discussions about me. In their eyes, the only people who were able to judge I was them, close relatives, and the Leclercs. Their reluctance to let others, especially those outside our circle, talk about me is palpable. So when they heard about Lando and I being friendly, they weren't amused knowing people would send hate my way.
Despite their best efforts to shield me by maintaining a certain distance, I couldn't bring myself to give in. Memories flooded my mind, particularly one where Pierre and Charles playfully chased me down a racetrack. The joy of that moment, the wind in our faces, and the fluttering of an orange butterfly became a poignant contrast to the current complexities of our relationships.
A month later
Gracie was sitting on my couch eating my snacks as always, "I can't believe you haven't seen them, last race I went to he thought you were there. When he saw it was only Lola and I, Daniel and him were disappointed," she says sitting across from Lola and me.
"Well, I'll see them in a week in Monaco, and yes if I see any news or account post about Lando in Monaco. I will be staying my ass home," I said with a big smirk on my face
Mick and I had made plans to visit Barcelona just three days after my arrival in Monaco. We had intended to keep the trip short, only staying for two days, as I anticipated that Charles would prefer me to return promptly. Surprisingly, I haven't had the chance to see Mick yet, which is unexpected given our plans.
Work has been keeping me incredibly busy, which is both surprising and enjoyable. The office environment is bustling, with a constant stream of tasks coming my way. Despite the hectic pace, I find it exhilarating to have so many responsibilities to tackle. The challenges that arise in the office environment ignite a sense of excitement within me, driving me to push myself further.
"Oh and we can go to the library," Lola says, Gracie quickly hits her.
"What library?" I ask
"It's because she's been wanting to go to New York and visit the library we always went to," says Gracie with a smile, whatever they're hiding she made an excuse real quick for it.
They don't speak to each other ivy, they haven't crossed paths, and communication between them is virtually non-existent. The reasons behind having Luisa in his room remain a mystery, perhaps if you guys talked about it, it would all get resolved. Despite his amazing performance on the racetrack, there's a noticeable sense of unhappiness about him, he always has this sad look on his face. There were recent sightings with Magui, and it raised questions, which is why to seek clarification I asked Max. He nonchalantly dismissed any concern, stating that Lando had explicitly asked Magui to leave him alone, emphasizing his desire to have nothing to do with her. Max even added a candid remark about Magui being quite annoying," said Lola with care in her voice.
Reacting to this information, a surge of annoyance coursed through me, and I responded with a hint of rudeness, asserting that I couldn't care less, "I don't care what he does with his life, he's not my problem anymore," I emphasized that he's not my concern to begin with, aiming to distance myself from any unnecessary involvement in his personal affairs.
