𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐈 | 𝐂𝐋𝟏𝟔

𝐗𝐋𝐕

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July 24th 2024

CHARLES LECLERC

I stared at my phone, the screen still lit up from the call that had just ended. Francesca had left me. It was over. I didn't really know how to feel. On one hand, it meant I could have Zahra all to myself, but instead of joy, I felt a hollow emptiness.

The call replayed in my mind. Her voice, what was once warm, had been cold and detached.

"Charles, we need to talk," she had said, her tone lacking of emotion.

"Francesca, what's going on?" I had asked, already sensing the weight of the conversation.

She sighed, a long, weary sound. "This isn't working anymore. I can't keep doing this. The distance, the rumors... it's all too much."

"Are you saying...?" I had trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence.

"Yes," she replied, her voice firm. "It's over, Charles. I've thought about this for a long time, and I think it's best if we go our separate ways."

I had sat there, stunned, the phone pressed to my ear. "Francesca, wait. We can talk about this, work it out."

"No, Charles," she interrupted, her tone final. "I've made up my mind. This is what's best for both of us. Goodbye."

And with that, she had hung up, leaving me with nothing but the deafening silence of my hotel room. I thought I'd be relieved, maybe even happy, but the only thing I felt was a heavy, suffocating numbness.

I stood in the middle of the room, the weight of her words settling in. The memories of our time together flashed before my eyes—our laughter, our arguments, the moments of quiet understanding. It all felt so distant now, like it belonged to another life. The realization that it was all truly over was like a punch to the gut, knocking the wind out of me.

I slumped down on the edge of the bed, my head in my hands. The emotions hit me in waves: confusion, sadness, anger, and a profound sense of loss. I had been preparing myself for this possibility for months, but nothing could have truly prepared me for the reality of it.

Francesca and I had been drifting apart for a while, the distance between us growing with each passing day. But I never thought it would end like this. There was no shouting, no dramatic confrontation—just a quiet, devastating end. 

I wanted to scream, to cry, to do something to release the pain building up inside me. But all I could do was sit there, staring blankly at the wall, feeling utterly and completely empty. The idea of being with Zahra, which should have been a source of excitement, now felt tainted. How could I think about starting something new when I hadn't even processed the end of what I had with Francesca?

My phone buzzed, a message from Zahra asking how I was doing. I didn't have the energy to respond. How could I explain the things raging inside me when I didn't even understand it myself? All I knew was that I felt like a part of me had been ripped away, leaving a raw, aching void in its place.

July 26th 2024

ZAHRA NICHOLS

Charles didn't do well in practice today. I watched him from the paddock, worry gnawing at me. He seemed off, his usual spark was gone. His car struggled through the corners, his lap times were disappointing, and he looked visibly frustrated when he climbed out of the cockpit. When he walked past, his shoulders slumped, and there was no trace of his usual cheeriness. Something was wrong.