Y/N crouched at the edge of the track, camera lens in hand, as the powerful roar of the Formula 1 cars echoed around the Monaco circuit. The heat of the afternoon sun beat down on the tarmac, and the smell of burning rubber filled the air, but Y/N was in her zone. For her, the world narrowed down to a single frame—the perfect shot.
This was her first season photographing Formula 1, and it wasn’t just about capturing the speed and spectacle of the race. It was about telling the story that unfolded behind the visor, beneath the helmets, and through the endless pressure that hung in the air during each lap. Y/N wasn’t just interested in the cars; she was interested in the drivers, in the moments that everyone else seemed to miss.
She adjusted her position, camera trained on a sleek red Ferrari rounding the corner, her finger hovering over the shutter button. The car screamed past in a blur of motion, but Y/N didn’t just snap away. She waited, held her breath, and clicked the shutter at just the right second, capturing the Ferrari driver, Charles Leclerc, his face intense with concentration through the helmet visor, his eyes fixed ahead on the track.
Perfect.
As the session wrapped up, Y/N made her way through the paddock, reviewing her shots on the screen of her camera. The noise of the team radios, engineers working on cars, and drivers giving feedback to their teams surrounded her, but she was lost in her own world until a voice snapped her back to reality.
“Those must be some good photos if you’re so focused on them.”
She looked up, startled. Charles Leclerc stood a few feet away, leaning casually against the barrier, still in his race suit but helmet off, sweat glistening on his forehead. His hair was tousled, and his usual relaxed smile was replaced with a tired but curious expression.
Y/N straightened up quickly, slightly embarrassed. “Oh, yeah, sorry—I get a bit caught up in the moment sometimes.”
Charles tilted his head, the corners of his mouth twitching into a small smile. “So, you were taking pictures of me, then?”
Y/N flushed, laughing lightly. “Well, you were driving past at 200 kilometers per hour, so technically, yes.”
He chuckled, pushing off the barrier and walking toward her. “Can I see?”
Y/N hesitated for a moment. It wasn’t often that she shared her photos before they were ready, but something about the way he asked made her nod. She turned the camera around, flipping to the shot she had taken just as he passed by.
Charles leaned in, studying the photo on the screen. His brows lifted slightly, and he exhaled, clearly impressed. “Wow,” he said softly, “this is… incredible. You got me right in the middle of the corner.”
Y/N smiled, feeling a swell of pride. “It’s all about timing. Catching the moment when everything lines up.”
Charles glanced at her, and for a second, there was a pause, like he was seeing her in a new light. “You don’t just take photos of cars, do you? You’re looking for something else.”
Y/N blinked. She wasn’t used to drivers understanding that part of her work. Usually, they only cared about the action shots, the high-speed moments. “I like to capture the story behind it all—the pressure, the focus. The human side of racing.”
Charles nodded, his expression thoughtful. “I can see that. This photo… it’s different. It’s not just me in a car. It’s me in the moment.” He handed the camera back to her, his gaze lingering for a second longer. “I like that.”
Y/N felt a flicker of surprise. “Thanks. Most people don’t really notice those kinds of details.”
“Well,” Charles said, smirking slightly, “I do.” He glanced back toward his team, who were beckoning him over for debrief. “You’ll be around for the rest of the season, right?”
“Yeah, I’ll be at every race.”
“Good,” he said, giving her a final smile before turning away. “I look forward to seeing more of your work, Y/N.”
Over the next few races, Y/N found herself drawn to capturing more of Charles’ moments. It wasn’t intentional at first—he just seemed to be in the center of everything. Whether it was during practice, where he had his game face on, or in the paddock, where he joked around with his team, her camera always seemed to find him.
It didn’t take long for Charles to notice either. After one particularly chaotic race in Silverstone, where he finished third after a nail-biting battle, Y/N was reviewing her shots in the Ferrari hospitality area when Charles wandered over, still flushed with adrenaline.
“Do you always catch me at my best—or worst—moments?” he teased, leaning over her shoulder to look at the screen.
Y/N smirked. “It’s not my fault you’re always in the middle of the action.”
Charles chuckled, but his eyes were on the photo she’d just taken. It was right after the race—he was stepping out of the car, his face a mix of exhaustion and elation, the emotion raw and unguarded. It wasn’t a polished image, but it was real.
“That one’s my favorite,” Y/N said quietly, surprising herself with the admission.
Charles studied the photo more closely, a flicker of something unspoken passing between them. “Why?”
Y/N shifted slightly, unsure how to explain it. “You’re not hiding anything in this one. It’s… just you. All the intensity, the relief, the exhaustion. It’s everything the race put you through, captured in one moment.”
He looked at her, his expression softening. “You see more than most people do. Most photographers, they just capture the speed or the glamour. But you…” He paused, his gaze locking with hers. “You see me.”
The words hung between them, and for a brief moment, the noise of the paddock faded into the background.
Y/N swallowed, unsure of how to respond to the sudden weight of his words. “I… guess I just look for what others don’t see.”
Charles smiled, a slow, genuine smile that reached his eyes. “I’m glad you do.”
From that moment on, something unspoken lingered between them. Y/N continued her work, capturing the essence of each race weekend, but her interactions with Charles became more frequent. He sought her out after sessions, asking to see her latest shots, always with that same mixture of curiosity and admiration.
And slowly, Y/N realized that while she had set out to tell the story of the drivers, she was starting to become part of Charles’ story. The moments she captured weren’t just about racing anymore—they were about him, about their growing connection, and the way they seemed to understand each other without needing to say much at all.
The season wore on, and with each race, Y/N’s lens found Charles in ways no one else could. Not just the driver behind the wheel, but the person behind the helmet.
