Eyes Don't Lie | Charles Leclerc

Part 36 | Chasing Cars

May 26, 2023

It was a month later, and I was back in Monaco for the most important race of the year. There's always something about this weekend that sets my nerves on edge, but this time, it felt different. My heart was pounding faster than usual, my mind racing as I sat in my driver's room, trying to calm myself before heading out for FP1. 

The results lately had been decent, better than last season, for sure. Ferrari was showing real promise, and I'd felt like I was finally finding my confidence again. But it was Monaco. The streets where I grew up, where everything was more intense, where every corner mattered more than anywhere else on the calendar. And here, the expectations were always sky high. 

I ran my hand through my hair, taking a deep breath as I stared at the ceiling, trying to push the anxiety away. I knew I needed to keep it together, stay focused. I'd trained my whole life for moments like these, but somehow, the weight of it all still felt crushing. Then, my phone buzzed. I reached for it on the table next to me, and when I saw Aria's name on the screen, my heart lifted. 

I unlocked the phone, and her message instantly brought a smile to my face. "Hey, I know how much this race means to you and how nerving it can be, but I want you to know how proud I am of everything you've accomplished so far. You've been amazing, Charles. I'll be there tomorrow to cheer you on, but for now, I'm sending all my love and support from here. You've got this, mon amour. Remember, no matter what happens, you're already a winner in my eyes. I love you." 

I stared at her words for a moment, feeling my chest tighten with emotion. I hadn't realized how much I needed to hear that until just now. I could almost picture her saying it, that soft smile on her face, those bright eyes full of warmth and love. Aria had a way of grounding me, of making everything feel less overwhelming. Since she came into my life, I'd felt like I could breathe again, even in moments like these, when the pressure seemed unbearable. 

My mind drifted back to the past month. Since Aria and I told each other we loved one another, things had been...amazing, almost surreal. Despite the constant traveling and the craziness of the my schedule, we'd managed to make it work. We spoke every night, even when we were thousands of miles apart. Sometimes it was just short messages or a quick call between meetings. 

Other times, we stayed up late, talking about everything, life, the race, her shoots, our dreams, each other. No matter what, we stayed connected. It was like no matter where I was in the world, part of her was always with me, and I'd like to think I was with her, too. It made the long stretches between seeing each other more bearable. 

She was in Paris now for a shoot, a big one from what she had told me. I could hear the excitement in her voice when we last spoke. She'd sent me a few photos of the city and of her getting ready for the shoot, effortlessly beautiful as always, with that smile I couldn't get enough of. And tomorrow, she'd be here for qualifying. 

That thought alone made my anxiety slow, the tension in my body easing. She'd arrive in the morning and come straight to the paddock. Just knowing that, knowing she'd be watching, supporting me through one of the most important days of the season, filled me with a sense of calm. 

It's funny, before Aria, I'd always thought I could handle everything on my own. That's what racing does to you. It makes you independent, teaches you how to cope with pressure, loss, and victory, all on your own terms. But with her, it was different. She showed me that it didn't make me weak to lean on someone else. In fact, it made me stronger. 

Every time we spoke, every time she sent me a picture or we joked about something random, it reminded me why I was fighting so hard. It wasn't just about the championship anymore. Sure, winning was still the goal, but now there was more to it. There was a future I could see beyond the finish line. A future with her.