𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐈 | 𝐂𝐋𝟏𝟔

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Present Day - April 16th 2047

INTERVIEWER: I'm here with Zahra Nichols, a former Formula One reporter. Shall we begin?

ZAHRA NICHOLS (Former F1 Reporter): Yes, go ahead.

INTERVIEWER: Firstly, thank you for agreeing to this interview. This documentary will focus on the Formula One legend, Charles Leclerc, and I understand you have close ties with him, according to my sources.

ZAHRA: Chuckles  Your sources are correct.

INTERVIEWER: Can you remember your first meeting with him? Your first interview seemed to suggest that you guys were already well acquainted. Is that true?

ZAHRA: Absolutely, I remember everything. I actually first met Charles around five years earlier, back in my hometown. It wasn't the best day for me, to be honest. But who would've guessed that Charles would completely turn it around? Smiles

July 31st 2018

ZAHRA NICHOLS

I rung the doorbell.

Ring.

No answer.

Ring.

No answer.

Ring.

No answer.

Ring.

"Hey sorry. I just took a shower," Aarav's voice greeted me as he swung open the door, dressed in nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. Having grown tired of living with his parents a month ago, he'd moved to this dingy studio apartment, where we now found ourselves. As I stepped inside, he closed the door behind me, and I settled onto his unmade bed. "Just woken up?" I asked, to which he simply nodded, his heavy slumber evident despite the late morning hour.

"Aarav, we should head out soon. Aren't you going to change?" I nudged gently, watching as he hesitated, fingers fidgeting nervously. "I...I'm not sure what to wear," he confessed with a sigh. "It's only lunch with my sister, I'm sure you'll find something," I reassured him with a chuckle, rising from the bed to rummage through his closet.

As my hand reached for the closet handle, Aarav's panicked cry echoed through the room, but it was too late. There, in the shadows, was a blonde girl, wearing the Polo sweater I had gifted Aarav.

Time seemed to freeze as I grappled with the situation unfolding before my eyes, my mind racing to make sense of it all.

"I'm sorry, I swear I didn't know—" Her frantic apology pierced the heavy silence, but forgiveness felt out of reach in that moment of raw emotion. "You should go, unless you want to see a murder," I managed to say, as she hurriedly dressed and fled the apartment, leaving behind a shattered trust and a whirlwind of emotions in her wake.

Faced with yet another shit situation, my instinct was to flee, a pattern created from years of avoiding the pain. When the fractures in my family started, I found comfort in Aarav's arms. When my mom struggled with financial stability, I found comfort in the distant embrace of Chicago. Even when confronted with my dad overdosing in our living room, the siren call of escape led me to the beach.