Race & Rally // Charles Leclerc

12.00

The moment has finally come. I have reached the final of the US Open. I blow cold air onto the palms of my hands as they feel sweaty, not wanting to lose grip of the racket.

It had been a non-stop week, which had its positives and negatives. On the good side, I didn't have much time to think about Charles or anything outside of the tennis world. However I was drained, and my body was starting to show it. But I can't stop now. Just one more match.

My opponent is none other than Jessica Pegula, one of the highest seeds internationally. What doesn't help is the fact that she's from America, so I know she'll have the advantage of the crowd's support.

I glance over at who currently feels like my only supporter, David, who's in my box bouncing his knee nervously. He catches my eye and instantly tries to gather his composure, giving me a thumbs up. I smile softly knowing that he will always have my back no matter what. Sitting next to him are Lily and Alex, who I invited last minute, thinking it was a good opportunity to see them again. I'm glad to see them all in my box, cheering me on. I couldn't ask for better friends.

The first set starts, the crowd already chanting Jessica's name. I close my eyes and block them out, knowing I have to focus on the game and only the game.

Shes was good. Her serve was killer and her movements were more agile than anyone I had played against yet. Neither of us had been able to break serve so the set went to a tie break. It was the first to seven points as long as you had a two point advantage on your opponent.

I got the first three but Jessica got the fourth causing me to yell in frustration. The crowd loved this and fed off of my anger as their chanting for Jessica heightened. Fortunately, they didn't know that they were adding fuel to the fire as it made me push even harder, causing me to win the set.

Much to my dismay Jessica won the second set, which had also dragged out to a tiebreaker. Both of us were exhausted as we had been playing for three hours now, each rally lasting way longer than it should. It's clear that we both want this win so badly.

"Time!" calls the umpire as the third set is about to begin. I quickly put my bottle down and hit my racket against my feet to wake them up. Only one more set to go and I will have this won.

"You can do this! You've got this Aria!" yells David from the box and I give him a quick nod. As I make my way to the baseline something suddenly catches my eye.

Amidst the bustling crowd, I can see a familiar grey denim outfit and my eyes move up to the face of the figure. My breath gets caught in my throat. There, standing in the midst of the crowd, was Charles. My Charles. I can feel my heart thundering in my chest as if it's trying to break free. It couldn't be him I think to myself, my mind struggling to reconcile the impossible sight before me. But there he was, unmistakable in his presence, his features illuminated by the glimpse of sunlight filtering through the open arena.

For a moment, the voices that were telling me that I couldn't win, faded into a distant hum as he sat watching the court. He had kept his promise. He was here to see me win, and in the outfit I had picked for him too.

As the final set began, I felt a sudden surge of determination coursing through my veins, driving my every movement. The arena buzzed with anticipation, the air thick with tension as I managed to win the first five games of the set. With each stroke of my racket, I poured my heart and soul onto the court, my muscles straining with every serve and lightning-fast volley.

But amidst the roar of the crowd and the relentless back-and-forth of the match, my focus remained unwavering, because in the sea of faces that surrounded me, I could feel that one pair of eyes watched me with unforgiving intensity.