Ice and asphalt [Charles Leclerc]

16.

2012, twelve years old.

Waking up in the hotel room I share with my parents in Charleville-Mézières, I'm filled with energy on the second day of the France figure skating championship. Yesterday's short program went amazingly well, so I'm buzzing with excitement for today's long program. But what excites me even more is the fact that Jules is coming to watch today. He's bringing along his friend Daniel, who has just completed his first season in F1, joining him on their winter break from racing. "Louise, I have your bag packed for today. Can you come over here and let me do your hair?" My mom calls out to me as I finish brushing my teeth and slip into my track suit, proudly displaying the name of the rink I skate at in Nice on the back, along with some other sponsors. I nod eagerly and make my way over to where she's set up a chair. Sitting down, I try my best to sit still as she works her magic on my hair. "Are you feeling ready for today?" she asks as she pins my hair in place. "Yes, I feel super pumped. And it's even better now that Jules is coming," I reply with a wide grin, the excitement practically radiating off me.

"You guys ready? Jules and Daniel are already in the restaurant for breakfast," my dad announces as he returns from picking them up from the airport. I jump from the chair as my mom finishes my hair, rushing out the door with my parents trailing behind me, carrying my belongings. Bursting into the restaurant, I spot Jules almost instantly. He stands up as I approach, ready to envelop me in a warm hug. "Ah, Louise! Have you grown since I last saw you?" he teases with a grin after releasing me from the hug. "I don't know, but this only shows how much time you spend with Charles instead of me to notice it," I say, crossing my arms. It's been a while since I've seen Jules, as he often spends his free time at the karting track with stupid Charles. He's like a little baby when it comes to attention from Jules, and I can't help but feel a pang of annoyance. After all, he's the fifteen-year-old here, not me; he should be fine on his own for a day. "Hey, don't get mad now. I'm here now, aren't I?" Jules responds with a light chuckle.

As I lock eyes with the twenty-three-year-old Australian sitting next to Jules, my shyness kicks in. He looks at me with a big smile and extends his hand. "Hello, Louise, I'm Daniel!" he says warmly. I manage a quiet "hello" as I shake his hand, feeling the loud and excited kid within me retreat. My usual shyness around new people takes over, and I find myself feeling a bit reserved in his presence. As we eat breakfast, Daniel's jokes and funny stories gradually ease my shyness. His infectious laughter fills the air, and soon I find myself chuckling along with him."So, what song are you skating to?" Daniel asks, his eyes filled with genuine curiosity. I smile, recalling the program Angelina, my coach, and I have crafted. "Murder on the Dance Floor," I answer, feeling a sense of excitement about the routine. At the mention of the song, I notice Jules's smile growing wider, his enthusiasm evident. It's one of his favorite songs, and knowing that adds to my excitement for the performance. "How was it with Charles and Pierre yesterday?" my dad asks, referring to their racing activities for the weekend. They seem to have an event every weekend, but I've lost track of the details. "It went well," Jules responds, his hand resting comfortingly on my shoulder as he speaks directly to me. "Charles wasn't too happy about me missing out on quali and race day, though. But hey, it's not every weekend Louise has a shot at becoming the national champion." I roll my eyes at the mention of Charles. "He shouldn't complain so much. He's like a spoiled child. You practically babysit him at every race. He needs to grow up," I say, irritation clear in my tone. Daniel chuckles, surprised by my candidness. "Looks like someone's not a fan of Charles," he remarks. "I just don't like him. He's so irritating," I grumble, feeling a surge of frustration whenever Charles is brought up. Jules interjects with a light chuckle, "Oh, come on, Louise. You two are more alike than you realize." His comment draws my attention. Despite being Charles's godfather and getting along well with both of us, he's aware of the tension between me and Charles. I scrunch up my nose at Jules's comment, feeling a bit defensive. "I don't think so," I mutter, crossing my arms tightly. "Charles and I are like... I don't know... like cats and dogs. We just don't click." Jules gives me this look, like he knows something I don't. It annoys me a little, but I don't say anything. Instead, I focus on my breakfast, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves about the competition today. As we finish eating, I can't help but fidget in my seat.