𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐈 | 𝐂𝐋𝟏𝟔

𝐗𝐗𝐗𝐕𝐈𝐈

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November 1st 2023

ZAHRA NICHOLS

In the afternoon, we finally had some free time before the weekend. Keir, Alma, and I decided to walk around São Paulo to spend the day, though the entire idea of Brazil made me puke. I hate this place.

Ever since I told Keir and Alma about why I despise Brazil, they've been completely obnoxious. I think they might be the type of people who can't move on from the past, not even if it would cure cancer.

"Come on, Zahra!" Keir chirped, nudging me as we strolled through the  streets. "Give us the grand tour! Show us where you left Charles!"

I shot him a look that could have melted steel. "No way. That club closed down ages ago."

Alma leaned in with exaggerated curiosity. "Oh, tell us! What really went down? Was it that bad?"

"It happened right there in the street," I retorted. "So unless you want to reenact a soap opera on the sidewalk, we're not going there."

Keir and Alma exchanged glances, and kept on giggling like schoolgirls. Apparently, the bad parts of my life provided endless entertainment.

"Come on, Zahra," Keir teased, nudging me again. "You know you secretly love those moments. I bet you couldn't stop talking about it."

"Maybe in another lifetime," I quipped, rolling my eyes. "But right now, let's focus on finding something decent to eat before we embarrass ourselves in another new country."

November 5th 2023

ZAHRA NICHOLS

The Brazil paddock lively as usual, but I couldn't shake the cloud hanging over me. The memories of 2018, the year I started hating Brazil, always resurfaced the moment I set foot here. It felt like the country itself had it out for me, with its unbearable heat, chaotic streets, and the old scent of past mistakes.

I wandered through the paddock, my mood sour despite the vibrant atmosphere. Every interaction felt like a chore, every smile forced. I had a job to do, and I did it, but my heart wasn't in it. My colleagues noticed but were wise enough not to press me on it.

I buried myself in work, anything to keep my mind off the past. The race weekend was in full swing, and there was plenty to do. Interviews to conduct, reports to write, strategies to analyze. It was a distraction, a temporary one.

But no matter how hard I tried to focus, Brazil's memories clawed at the edges of my mind. The arguments, the mistakes, the regrets—all of it felt like it had happened just yesterday. And seeing Charles around the paddock, knowing everything that had happened since then, didn't help.

The day unfolded with as usual, the air thick with anticipation. Every corner seemed to echo with memories, reminding me of the past I couldn't escape.

As I moved between interviews and observations, I saw Charles approaching from a distance. My initial instinct was to avoid him, to bury myself deeper in my work, but something made me pause. Maybe it was the way he carried himself, or the hint of hope in his eyes.

"Hey, Zahra," he greeted me with a smile as he came closer.

I glanced up, meeting his gaze. "Hey, Charles," I replied, keeping my tone neutral.

"How are you holding up?" he asked, his voice soft.

I shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "Surviving."

He chuckled softly. "Same here. It's been a rough few weeks."

"Tell me about it," I muttered, more to myself than to him.

There was a pause, but I could feel his eyes on me, searching for something.

"I just wanted to say," he began, hesitating slightly, "I hope we can move past all this someday."

I looked at him, surprised by his sincerity. "Maybe," I said finally, unable to promise more.

Charles nodded, understanding in his eyes. "I know it'll take time."

"Yeah," I agreed softly. "Time."

We stood there for a moment longer, the noise of the area fading into the background. For a moment, it felt like things were getting better between us. Like maybe, just maybe, we could find a way to coexist in this world we both lived in.

"I should go," Charles said eventually, breaking the silence.

"Yeah," I echoed, watching him walk away.

As he disappeared into the crowd, I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. Maybe I should stop shitting on Brazil so much.

The race came, and I went through the routine, doing my job as best I could. The sounds of the engines, the excitement of the crowd, the tension of the pit stops—it was all a blur. I watched Charles race, my heart in a knot of emotions too different from one another. Anger, regret, something else I couldn't quite name.

As the race ended and the celebrations began, I slipped away, needing a moment alone. I found a quiet corner and leaned against the wall, taking deep breaths to steady myself.

Brazil had a way of bringing out the worst in me, of reminding me of everything I'd rather forget. But I couldn't let it break me. I had a job to do, a career to build, and a life to live.

But for now, I turned back to my work, focusing on the race unfolding before me. There were stories to tell, interviews to conduct, and a job to do. I better finish up quickly, though. It was a bad time to get lost in thought; I had a flight back to Midd Beach to catch.

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𝐀𝐔𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐘'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒
❀ RLLY SHORT CHAPTER CS I WAS SO BORED W TS
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