paddock princess [ln4]

a knock on the door

The current raging storm outside had nothing to do with Charlie's awful mood. For starters, her week has been a consistent load of shit, shit and even more shit with shit on top. The shit on top takes the freaking cake because she had received a lovely visit from Aunt Flo this morning, and her cramps immediately made her rethink her original plan of going out and getting absolutely plastered tonight with her two best friends and roommates, Emerson and Stassie.

Has she yet mentioned that this week has been shit?

The good news is that while this week currently has made her want to shove her face in a blender, it is only Tuesday, so the majority of the suffering has been short-lived and there are plenty of days left to turn a very bad start of the week into a really good end of one.

The bad news is that tonight will not be the night that her week looks up.

Currently, she is sitting on her couch with the trio's shared Blue Merle Corgi, Elle, obviously named after the great Elle Woods. The two are comfortably snuggled in with five different blankets and a heating pad against Charlie's back.

While she has been attempting to watch Tangled, which has been playing for the last hour and a half, her focus has been on everything besides her favorite movie.

To put it extremely lightly, her bad week is only the tip of Charlie's very large iceberg of problems. To be fair though, her last name makes up around 75% of the iceberg.

Throughout her life–the name "Sinclair" has meant many different things to the 23 year old

Growing up without a mother is a very hard thing for a child, let alone one whose father's job is traveling around the world and racing in high-speed, dangerous cars. Most people thought that Jacques Sinclair would retire once his wife had died due to complications with childbirth. But, in all actuality, it was the exact opposite for the 30 year old man.

He pushed himself further into his work, all while being an amazing parent and holding his daughter's hand every step of the way. Charlotte Claudette Sinclair was the light of Jacque's life–besides racing of course.

He was quick to put the girl in karting young, fully dedicated to helping her achieve what he knew would someday be her biggest dream.

And for a while, it was. She was good in the kart, and she was even better sitting in a Formula 3 car, but she soon realized that while she loved the familiar paddock walls–it wasn't her dream to be a "Paddock Princess" for the rest of her life.

Her dream sprouted from the plant of her other parent, the one that never got to know of Charlie's humor or kindness.

Claudette inspired Charlie in a way that racing never had.

So the very day that Charlie gained access to her trust fund, she took advantage of the life she wanted.

The very day of the Monacan Grand Prix–whilst her dad was winning the race in a bright red Ferrari, she was halfway across the continent, getting ready to attend university with dreams of being a lawyer, like her mother.

Now, fresh out of school and ready to attend the best law program in all of Paris after the Summer break with her two best friends, life should be great for Charlie. She is mega rich because of her large trust, has amazing friends, security, and an incredible spot at an incredible school.

But it is all a lie because while, legally, the Sinclair name is still attached to the girl. After she had betrayed his legacy 5 years ago, Charlie has not seen or spoken to her father. He removed every aspect of his only daughter out of his life and has not tried to change it since.

This being the very reason as to why Jacques Sinclair went on to lose his Formula 1 seat, after publicly shaming and berating Charlie.

On nights like tonight, where she watches Rapunzel find her lost family, the guilt-ridden thoughts overcome every muscle in her body and every beat of her heart silently wishes for that kind of love and family again.

A loud knock echoes throughout the large apartment as Charlie is hastily pulled out of her thoughts. Elle wiggles her way out of her lap with urgency as she lets out loud whines at the door. Fear pulses through the girl as she pounces off of the couch into the kitchen to find her "SOS: crazy fan plotting revenge" kit.

It sounds crazy until you realize that she has had to restock the kit twice since Stassie forced her to start carrying pepper spray.

Quickly grabbing her miniature taser and kitchen knife–just as a precaution–she almost drops the knife on her foot when the knocks continue on the door. Taking a deep breath, she forces the bones in her body to work, hesitantly approaching the door.

One last urgent knock is all she needs to have the courage to whip the door open, forcefully holding out the taser to the newcomer.

What she didn't expect was a very distraught Sebastian Vettel to be staring back at her.