SHIRT, charles leclerc (REWRITING)

ONE, the call of the prancing horse

CHAPTER ONE,
the call of the prancing horse

Arthur Leclerc and Juliette Bianchi were lounging in the Leclerc family's cozy Monte-Carlo home. The two of them were sprawled out on the large, plush couch, each lost in their phones, mindlessly scrolling through social media as the late afternoon light filtered in through the windows. The quiet between them was comfortable.

Arthur was the first to break the silence. "You've seen the rumors, right?" he asked, not taking his eyes off his phone. "Ferrari's interested in signing a rookie for next season."

Juliette sat up, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise. "No way. That's so unlike them. They just signed Charles last season. It'd be tough for a rookie to step into Seb's place, their lineup would lack experienced drivers."

Arthur shrugged, not seeming too phased. "Other teams have been signing rookies lately. It wouldn't be that surprising if Ferrari did the same."

And he was right. McLaren had just signed Lando Norris, one of her closest friends. Both George Russell and Amelia Schumacher had been picked up by Williams, and Alex Albon was set to join Toro Rosso. Most of her friends from Formula 2 were making the leap to Formula 1 next season, moving up to the big leagues.

Juliette couldn't help but feel a twinge of frustration. It felt strange—almost ironic—that so many teams had signed her peers, but no one had approached her. And she was the one who had won the F2 championship. Logically, an F1 team should've offered her a contract by now.

Anxiety gnawed at her, and she bit her lower lip, her mind racing. "Yeah, well... there's no way they'd sign a female driver," she muttered, her voice tinged with frustration.

There was an unfortunate truth in her words. In the past, several teams had passed on her simply because she was a woman. It infuriated her—she knew she was just as capable, if not more so, than many of the male drivers. But that didn't stop some teams from turning a blind eye.

Juliette had grown up racing alongside boys her entire life, and she'd never let their doubts or sexism get to her. She was tougher than that. She'd proven herself time and time again. Still, the sting of being overlooked never quite faded.

Arthur raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at his lips as he glanced over at her. "Bitch, please," he snickered. "You literally just won the F2 championship a month ago. I wouldn't be surprised if Ferrari calls you up any day now."

His confidence made her laugh, a small smile tugging at her lips despite the tension in her chest.

Arthur had always been her biggest supporter. Even though he was nearly three years younger, the bond they shared was undeniable. He had a way of cheering her on, lifting her spirits when she needed it most.

Their laughter faded, giving way to a thoughtful silence that hung between them. Arthur, ever the one to break the quiet, spoke up first. "Would you sign with them, if they offered you a contract?"

Juliette looked at him, bewildered. "What kind of question is that? Of course I would..."

Arthur narrowed his eyes, studying her closely. He knew her too well to take her words at face value. "But...?"

"But what? There is no 'but.' It's Ferrari, Arthur. That team's in my blood," she said with conviction. It was true—Ferrari was more than just a team to her. Being half-Italian, the legacy of the prancing horse was something she felt deeply connected to, it was a source of pride.

Arthur didn't seem convinced, though. He tilted his head, pursing his lips as if trying to figure her out. "I don't know. You're giving off weird vibes."