Alyara Stroll has burst into the F1 world with much more than a bang. She's driving for RedBull off her own success rather than money, and she's trying her hardest to fit in and win her first race in her second season. Enter Ollie Bearman. His debut...
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𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗘𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧- 𝙞𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙮, 𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙮!
⋆📦⭒🤎⭒🍪⭒🐻⋆
alyara stroll
Australia was a whirlwind. Not just for the Carlando fans, but for RedBull. Max DNFing was a huge problem, for the safety of him and his car, and also my car. And after resolving our problems, I was set on being the best future aunt in history. Did I create a "How-To Hide Lena's Pregnancy Until The Met!" powerpoint? Yes, yes I did.
But, we've fast forwarded a little, but Italy is where I am.
Imola is one of my favourites.
After placing fourth, it felt good. I was still up there without anyone thinking I wasn't good enough and it was just the car. After Lando's win, I feel like I'm allowed to win a race now, you know? I always try to win, don't get me wrong, but it feels like it's my turn.
Lena was overjoyed in Miami, as she should, and there was a party involved (there always is). We were all really happy for him, and the spirit was still raging for him after he placed second in Imola.
Back to me, because duh. Oscar and I were asked to watch from Prema's F2 garage, which not only scores me free bonding time with Oscar, it scores me a free view of Oliver. We're not friends. At all. Just me and some guy that flirts with me and won't do anything about it. Just to update you, nothing has happened. His F1 career is over for now, and our rivalry is non existent. I hate to say it but I'm looking for him.
The sun's out, and Oscar and I are leaning on the balcony rails facing the Prema hospitality.
"So."
"So."
"How's Oliver?" Oscar asked, his voice casual but his eyes glinting with curiosity as he lounged back against the wall.
"How's Madison?" I shot back, a knowing smile playing on my lips.
"How do you know about that?" Oscar questioned.
"Oscar, come on now," I replied, rolling my eyes.
"Alyara," Oscar said, his voice carrying a hint of warning.
"We're on a group chat. All of the girls," I explained, waving my hand dismissively.
"You mean the girlfriends?" Oscar clarified, leaning forward with interest.
Excuse you, I am the driver, not the girlfriend.
"Yes. Tell me about Madi," I insisted.
"I'm taking her to Niall Horan in New York," Oscar said, a blush creeping on his cheeks.
