𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 charles leclerc

𝟬𝟬𝟳

VEDA'S POV

The moment id gotten on that jet, i debated walking right out.

I was greeted by Arthur first who gestured for me to sit in the seat next to him. In front sat his brother, gaze shielded by sunglasses despite being indoors.

I greeted Liam on my way to Arthur and noted Charles' personal trainer's presence next to him before sitting down.

"How long's the flight?" That had been the first thing I asked Arthur upon taking a seat.

"Already want to leave?" He gave me a look. "sixteen hours give or take."

I felt my jaw visibly drop. I'd never been in such a long flight. "What?"

He only shrugged, reclining his seat. "Not my fault Australia's in the middle of nowhere."

Oh I'd have plenty of time to write and much more. "Right."

I pulled out my laptop from my bag. The sooner I got to writing, the sooner I could just fall asleep and get the flight over with.

"Working on more ways to get people to hate me?," I heard Charles grumble from across as I begun typing. I couldn't see his eyes but I knew they wouldn't look kind behind the tint of those Raybans.

"I wish." Instead I was stuck writing about Mercedes. "You don't need my help to do that anyway, you do a fine job yourself."

I could practically sense him rolling his eyes. "You're not helping."

"Actually..," Liam had come out of nowhere, taking a seat next to Charles and directly in front of me. "She is."

Charles turned to face him. "What's that?"

"She's going to be interviewing you about the event. That way the people can get your side of the story, a form of justification for your actions, it could turn the tables."

I sniffed a laugh. "If they actually buy it."

"They will," Liam assured. "We'll brainstorm some questions and answers that can set  him up for success."

"How lovely Charles, you have a whole team dedicated to saving your ass twenty four seven," I taunted, my eyes glued to my screen.

"And that now includes you so chop chop," He clapped at me like some servant. "Get to work."

The gesture was infuriating, I could feel my heart rate start to increase. "Careful Charles, one mistype and my headline will have you seeming more reckless than ever."

"Let's not get carried away here," Liam attempted at putting out the flames that I was only fanning.

"How is your headline going by the way?" Arthur had stepped in, attempting to switch the subject before it could get out of hand.

"I don't know you tell me. 'The pitfalls of favoritism : is Lewis Hamilton receiving special treatment from Mercedes?'," I read aloud.

Charles scoffed. "You really want the whole paddock to hate you, don't you."

"I'm here to win, not make friends." I'd quoted him, the same one I'd used in my article. I knew he knew that and it only made me happier.