Picture Perfect

Chapter 8

Elle

I placed my phone face down on the couch after reading another one of the posts made by some fan gossip page that many people followed.

Despite not being a driver, the worst thing I had to deal with was still the media; I talk about media, englobing socials, press, interviewers, and anything that involved a source making money from exposing someone else's life. 

See, there is one thing I suppose you need to know about my relationship with the two drivers I worked with. Carlos and I were an immediate match; seemingly molded by the same clay, - the same humor and very similar personalities.  We got along really well from the start and soon after we were attached by the hip, even if it wasn't for a race weekend. 

Now, Charlie was a whole different story. He had a tougher shell to crack, and honestly, in the beginning, it didn't seem like our personalities matched; he was more reserved, held back and one-worded when it came to holding a conversation. So, I stuck to getting information about him from Carlos and the occasional small talk as we waited for an interview. It wasn't until after my father's passing that Charles and I really grew close; I guess he understood what I was going through better than anyone, and from one day to the other, he opened up to me and allowed me to get to know him. He stepped up as a friend and hasn't left me alone ever since. 

Neither of them have.  

Of course, only us three knew the kind of relationship we had, and "understandably" media was quick to twist everything out of context when they would see me hanging around with either of them after the race weekends. It all got even worse when I grew even more attached with time to them both. 

Of course, every headline that included me somewhere was click-baited with one of three words: cheater, opportunist, or profiteer. 

-Dating Carlos? -Dating Charles? -Drama in Ferrari? Those were the most common headers and interrogatives all of those notes held. 

Truly, I had gotten used to all those rumors and stupid comments by now, after all, reporters rarely intercepted me, and few were the fans who could put a face to the name that headed the weirdest scandals about their favorite drivers. 

Everything was now an inside joke between us, well... between Carlos and I really. Charlie wasn't really fond of all the talk that occurred at my name's expense; he usually tried to get those notes deleted, to no avail. But Carlos and I tended to make jokes out of it, bewilderingly calling each other names and mocking each other with a non-existing relationship between us. 

I loved them both equally, and I knew I could count on them at any moment, I knew Carlos would be the first person to defend and protect me physically and verbally. I'm not saying Charlie wouldn't, but Carlos was more volatile, bolder in a sense.

Now, Charles leaned further into conscience, he thought about every possibility before jumping to action, but when it came to emotional matters, he was the wisest and most mature person I could talk to, and lately, I seemed I needed more of this. 

There's a reason I emphasize it. Why? You may ask. 

Well, I don't think I was ever the right person to live through traumatic or sorrowful events; I tended to hold back on my feelings until I was so overwhelmed that they made me explode, and lately, I'd been really close to that last part. 

Overall, I could resume my feelings in two words.

Fucking Sad.

Maybe a couple other feelings drowned my head, but I was mostly really sad. It had been a year since my dad, my best friend had passed; and trying to occupy my head before the next race weekend, I bravely unlocked the door to his room. A room I hadn't step foot in for the last year...