Chasing You

Chapter 11

ADDIE

I watch as the crowds roar with excitement, bright red confetti in the air. Somewhere on the track, the red car with number '22' on it just passed the finish line, a black car with blue applications and number '1' not one second behind it. A song starts playing in the background, something I recognise to be Astoria's official anthem. Down on the track, Chris still shouts into his microphone, thanking the team, his colleagues, the universe. I see Lewis Cunnan getting out of his car and rushing over to the one which came in first place, just in time as Chris hops out of it. I see them running to each other and Lewis packing Chris under his arm, both of them seeming so happy. They go forehead to forehead as Lewis seems to be yelling something through the helmet, cheering for Chris and what he just did.

The winner of the Saudi Arabia GP.

I don't even mind the steel grey car arriving third, all I can look at is Chris taking off his helmet. His hair is wet, yet he doesn't seem to mind. He takes in the crowds, takes in the team cheering for him, holds onto Lewis's shoulder as if he would fall any minute if he would let go.

As he seems to have breathed enough to be able to stand, he forms a heart with his hands at the thousands of people in red, many of them clapping, some even in tears. The next thing that happens seems surreal. The crowds return his heart, and Chris has a whole grandstand pointing a heart at him.

My hands are in the air too.

~

I don't know how I ended up at the Astoria garage tonight.

Thirty minutes ago I posted the article for Espen. They still haven't told me anything about it. They still have no response.

I'm quite terrified of their response, to be honest, but I know it was the right thing to do. The only thing that should have been done.

I stare at the huge doors, not knowing where to start. I've been in the Espen garage, I've also been in the Apollo one. But the Astoria garage does something I can't explain to me. Like I could almost see my Dad in front of these doors, smiling at me. Like something inside tells me this is where I should have gone from the beginning...

Red walls unveiling two glass doors. Above them, one word. 'Astoria'.

I plan on turning around, as the door suddenly opens and a hurried Fabio walks through them. He is talking with somebody on the phone, a real smile on his face for once. He is talking in Italian, and I swear I could see a tear down his face.

"Sì, Mamma. Sì. Chris. Avresti dovuto vederlo mostrare quel cuore al pubblico. Era così felice. Così ero io."

His eyes meet mine, and for a second he halts. "Aspetta, Mamma. È la sua futura moglie." He puts a hand on the microphone, before he offers me a warm smile. "Hey, bella. Didn't expect to see you tonight. Do you need something? How did your article go?"

"Uhm, okay, I guess", I lie. It was a disaster, but at least I did the right thing. "I actually have one question, but I can completely understand if you won't want to answer. I mean, I also wouldn't answer. Actually, I don't even know why I'm here, so..."

"Chris is upstairs on the rooftop terrace", he answers what I haven't even yet asked. And before I can ask how did he know that was what I was going to ask, he points with his finger at the phone in his hands. "It's my Mom, I have to continue. I'm really sorry, Addie. If anybody asks, yet they probably won't, just tell them I let you in." He quickly fishes his pass from the pocket of his jeans and swipes it over the screen on the wall once, to open the door for me.

I don't even have time to thank him before the doors close behind me.

I turn around and all I see is red. Red walls, red T-Shirts, red confetti. The lobby has been transformed into a sort of party place, garlands with the text "ASTORIA" or "CONGRATS, CHRIS" hung on the walls. On the once coffee table now lay pizza boxes and a dozen of champagne glasses. Italian hits play from a speaker, the whole team dancing. I swear I could even spot Antonio De Luca, their team principal, doing a pirouette with his wife.

Maybe that's why Fabio told me to say he let me in. This party seems to be rather private. For Astoria only.

Somewhere on the dance floor I spot some other familiar faces. Levi seems to be taught by Yvonne how to do a Cha Cha, Winnie close to them copying the moves. From close by, Aria is leaning on Lewis's chest, and the woman is filming the little dance class going on.

I can't spot Chris though.

Chris is upstairs on the rooftop terrace, I remember what Fabio said.

I try the best I can to tiptoe my way up the staircase, partly not to disturb them from the celebrations, partly not to raise any suspicions. Fabio said I could use him as cover, but I don't want him to get in trouble for letting a stranger inside. Especially get in trouble over me.

As I arrive upstairs, I notice a bunch of offices and meeting rooms, all empty right now. Everybody seems to be downstairs celebrating.

All but the man of the evening.

I pass Fabio's personal room, De Luca's office, a storage room. A relaxation room (what the fuck?!). Even a VIP lounge for when they bring special guests to the races. Hidden in a corner lay another staircase, one leading to an empty door.

Even before I open it, I can tell Chris is behind that door. My body seemed to grow aware, my senses now looking for any sign of him. A breath, a movement... Anything.

I open the door. Chris was staring at the paddock and the view of the circuit that lay in front of him, his back at me. I notice he is still wearing his red racing suit, as if holding on to the memory for as long as he can. In one of his hands is a black phone, that reveals a picture of a red car he had as wallpaper. His hair is still wet, but I know it is now the result of a mixture of sweat and champagne.

Not knowing what to do, I clear my throat. Chris immediately turns around.

"Hey, stranger", I let out. My voice doesn't sound like mine. It is too edged from the butterflies I'm feeling.

Chris doesn't move, yet he makes me a sign I could join him if I wished. Carefully, I walk towards him, as if being pulled by a string. "Why aren't you down there?", I ask him. "You deserve to celebrate."

He doesn't answer, and he doesn't look at me anymore. I follow his gaze and it is then I notice what he was doing.

He was looking at the night sky.

"You made a wish?", I ask him. I thought he would call me stupid for what I did. Not that he would make a wish in return.

"Of course I remember you, Addie-Boo", he whispers. As I look down from the stars, I notice those deep brown eyes again on me. Chris takes a pained breath, then begins: "I remember everything. From the way you offered me Skittles, to the way you threatened to go all Muay Thai on me if I did anything wrong. I remember how we danced all night, and how your smile would brighten any time the song would switch to a Taylor Swift or a Harry Styles one. I remember how when we took that walk along the bay, how you made us sit down on the boardwalk and dangle our feet in the water, because you said it is how it is done. I remember how you let me had all the red Skittles because you figured out it was my favourite colour. Yet I also remember how I didn't eat any of them because I had also figured out it was yours too."

I'm not quite sure I am breathing. From the way his smartwatch beeps alarmed, I am not quite sure he is either.

"Why did you act that way though?", I can't help but ask.

"Because I've spent the two past years dreaming of the day I would see you again, and when it finally came, I panicked and didn't know what to do."

I don't know what to do. First instinct is to kiss the heck out of him, yet I am not quite sure it is the right moment for that. I try to search for words, but they seem to have left me. Instead, I just reach my hand to grab his, and look up at the sky.

"The stars look pretty tonight", I whisper.

"They always do", he answers back. "They are even prettier tonight because you are here."