Fifty Shades Of Red | Charles Leclerc

43. Away We Go

Hailey's pov

1 year later: Race Day

--> 2 hours before the race

"And if someone asks you 'Where have you been this entire time?' what will your response be?"

"I took the year off work to recharge, spending time with family and friends in order to come back stronger and with better results this new season." I say into the phone, reciting the words I had learned by heart the night before when I was filled with anxiety to the point where I couldn't even get some sleep.

"And your contract with Audi?"

"It was unexpected but when they reached out to me to become part of their rising team, it was an honour and an offer I couldn't turn down." I respond, not sounding like I have learned the words by heart this time because they are true.

Only a fool would turn down the opportunity of a lifetime.

That day, six months after the accident, I received a file from the FIA, the red logo stamped on it bringing back so many terrible memories I had tried burying but that yet somehow kept dredging up. I had fought tooth and nail, trying to keep myself away from anything F1 related that might put me ten feet behind in my healing journey, but that's hard when they deliver files to your front door on a silver platter. I impatiently opened up the white file, ignoring the little voice inside of me telling me to just burn the entire thing up—never having to see that logo again—and I felt all my shattered dreams that I had picked up piece by piece and locked away in my closet start forming again.

Just like that, I had a purpose again. Just like that, I had hope.

I locked myself in my room that day, trying to come up with a decision. Would it be wrong to return back to the place that has haunted my nightmares night after night? Was I ready—strong enough—to face my fears? Would everything be the same or change now that I had a secure seat that I could call my own?

Was I ready to see him again?

"Hailey, are you still there?" I hear the voice ask on the other side of the line, bringing me back from my daydreaming.

"Still listening." I confirm before taking a left and spotting the secluded coffee shop on the side of the street. I use my free hand to fan my face but it's useless against the blazing hot Bahrain sun. I wish I could just peel this hat and sunglasses off my face but with all these people around, it would be better not risking being seen by paparazzi "Any more questions?"

"What's your relationship with Charles Leclerc? Are you both still close or in contact? Have you seen each other over the year you both took off?" A bunch of questions are shoot at me through the phone, but I remain calm, practicing for when the interviewers actually steal the chance to ask me them today.

"No matter our past, Charles and I remain rivals on track although there is no bad blood between us. I can guarantee that we both will put up a fight to climb the podium today, therefore I can promise you quite the show."

"Perfect." My publicist congratulates me "Stick to the script, answer questions you want to avoid with good enough truths just like we practiced and you'll do great."

I pass the street just as she says 'good luck' to me, wishing me a good and safe race "Thanks Vick." I greet her and hang up the phone.

Placing the phone inside my pocket and pulling the coffee shop's door open, I am grateful for the cold breeze from the AC reaching my face once I walk inside. I take a minute to survey the place, table and chairs arranged beautifully making the place look nice and cosy. The barista sends me a sweet smile which I return as I walk past the counter, to the back of the shop, where the person I'm meeting up with is sitting.