𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒, 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍, 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒, charles leclerc

╰┈➤ ❝𝟎𝟐𝟔, 𝐧𝐞𝐰𝐬.❞

I slam the breaks of my racing car as Ocon speeds down the pitlane. I had just finished changing my tires, and Ocon speeding like that probably cost me 5 extra seconds. 

"What the fuck is he doing?" I shriek into the microphone. 

"It's okay, focus on the race. We are talking to see if we can get him the penalty he deserves." George, my strategist, informs me. 

I just breathe heavily, in anger as I drive out the pitlane and get back into the race. I had dropped at least 10 spots after that, pushing me back into p15. 

"Ocon has got a 10 second penalty." George informs me.

"Deserved." I answer, focusing on the race. 

In the end, I finished P5. I park my car behind everyone else, sitting in it for a second to cool down. My hair was in a ponytail and it was stuck to my back with all the sweat dripping down my neck. It was so uncomfortable. I climb out my car, handing my steering wheel to one of the redbull employees and pull off my helmet, the cold air brushing against my face, cooling me down. 

"(Y/n), I'm so sorry I didn't realise what I was doing." Esteban quickly apologises as soon as he sees me out the car. 

"It's whatever." I mumble, shrugging. He just sighs and walks away. 

I pull off my balaclava and gloves. Charles quickly jogs over. He had gotten p2 and I was so proud of him.

"Heard what Ocon did, are you okay?" He asks as he glides his hand under the ends of my ponytail that was soaked in sweat so that it would unstick itself from my neck. I smile at him thankfully as I drink from my water bottle. 

"It's alright, I'm angry but I can't change anything." I mumble. 

Carlos jogs over, dabbing up Charles and congratulating him on the podium. Carlos had gotten p4, so close to a podium but there weren't enough laps left for him to overtake Lewis. He quickly gives me a hug before running away.

"Alright, I have to go for my quick interview and then to the cool down room, I'll see you out on the podium." Charles says before running off and talking to Naomi who questioned him about the race. 

George (my strategist not Russell), walks up to me with a pitiful look on his face. "The stewards want to talk to you and Charles, could you go tell him?"

I look at him confused. "What do you mean?"

"It doesn't have anything to do with the race, but I'd go quick if I were you. Tell Charles to go there after his podium celebration." George quickly walks off.

I look around, confused, before shrugging and grabbing a tiny redbull sticker, taking my chance to stick it on Charles' back. I wait for him to finish his interview so that Max could do his and stop Charles so his back was facing the camera and they can see me sticking the Redbull sticker on him. I place my hand on his back firmly before getting on my toes. 

"The stewards want to see us after your podium, okay?" I tell him. "We didn't do anything wrong in the race, I don't know what it's about though." I rub his back to make sure the sticker was stuck on and not going anywhere.

Charles nods as he jogs into the cool down room.

Sooner rather than later, the podium began. I stood at the front, smiling as I watch Carlos lift his P3 trophy. I clap my hands as the crowd cheers. Next, Charles got his trophy and I grin, feeling happy to see my two boys on the podium. Max got his first place trophy and they start to play the dutch anthem. The second it finished, the boys grabbed their bottles of champagne and sprayed it on each other. Charles and Carlos give each other a mischievous look before walking to the railing of the podium, looking down at me. Charles winks as both the boys start to spray champagne on me. I gasp as I cover my head, not wanting the cold drink to touch me. They're so dead. I pull my redbull jacket of my head, giggling. Idiots.