𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐈 | 𝐂𝐋𝟏𝟔

𝐗𝐗𝐗𝐈𝐕

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June 2nd 2023

ZAHRA NICHOLS

Walking through the paddock in Spain on a sunny Friday afternoon, I felt giddy. You know, when you can't stop smiling and have the urge to skip? Giddy. I had just finished an interview with Fernando Alonso, one of this week's hometown heroes. As I headed towards the media center, still scribbling down my last insights from the interview, I suddenly found myself face-to-face with a certain Monegasque.

"Zahra," he greeted me. "Nice interview with Alonso. I caught a bit of it."

"Thanks, Charles," I replied, nothing could stop me from smiling now. His compliments always had that effect. "What are you up to?"

"Just finished a debrief," he said casually, his gaze locking onto mine with a look that made my heart skip a beat. "But I was hoping to run into you. I have an idea."

"Oh?" I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "What kind of idea?"

"A bet," he said, his grin widening in that disarming way of his. He took a step closer. "Something to keep us both on our toes."

"A bet?" I repeated. "What kind of bet?"

"Well," he began, leaning in slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper, "how about this: If I finish in the top three in the next three races, you have to get an exclusive interview with any driver I choose, and I'll be writing those questions. And if you manage to secure that interview, I have to win the race in Hungary."

I laughed, shaking my head. "That's quite a bet, Charles. But what happens if you don't make it to the top three or if I can't get the interview?"

"Then we both owe each other a favor," he said smoothly, his eyes never leaving mine. "Anything the other asks."

"Alright, Leclerc. You're on."

We shook hands, sealing the deal. His hand lingered in mine for a moment longer than necessary, and the warmth of his touch sent a shiver down my spine.

"You know," he said, his voice softening, "I have a feeling this is going to be a lot of fun."

I rolled my eyes, though I couldn't help but smile. "We'll see, Charles. We'll see."

He winked at me, his smile widening. "May the best one win, Zahra."

June 16th 2023

CHARLES LECLERC

The paddock in Canada came alive as I prepared for another practice session. Zahra was there, completely focused on her work, her focus seemed unbreakable. She stood with her notebook, jotting down notes while listening closely to one of the engineers. I couldn't help but just look at her.

Zahra had a way of making everything seem effortless, even when I knew how hard she was working. Her hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, and the sun caught the highlights, making them glow. She had a small frown of concentration on her face, her lips slightly parted as she took in every detail the engineer was explaining.

As I continued to stare, I guess, I felt a tug of awe and something deeper. Her passion for her work, her dedication, and the way she carried herself with confidence—it all reminded me why I had been drawn to her in the first place. Every time I saw her, I was reminded of the bet we made, and it pushed me even more. I needed to be in the top three, not just for the sake of the bet, but because I wanted to prove to her—and to myself—that I could do it.