Formula 1 | One Shots

How To Save A Life | Charles Leclerc

Author's Note: ⚠️ Mentions of death...fluff(ish) ending.

This is a slightly longer story!

Done in Charles POV
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Celebrations were in full swing as we were in Mexico tonight with friends and some of the drivers. I could actually relax, even if P2 was close but not close enough to the win. It was a good day and I was enjoying the moment.

I was listening to Lando complain about a track battle with Max when my phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out and my maman's name flashed on the screen. Strange. It would be pretty late in Monaco and she'd usually wait until morning if it wasn't important.

"Hey, guys, give me a minute," I said, already moving toward the balcony. The cool night air hit me as I opened the door and stepped outside, the sound of the music booming through the doors. I leaned on the railing, pressing the phone to my ear.

"Salut, Maman," I greeted, a bit nervous about what she had to say.

"Cherie," she said softly, and I could hear something was wrong in her voice. Sadness, maybe worry. It was rare to hear her sound like that.

"Is everything okay?" I asked, leaning further on the railing.

She hesitated, and I could hear her breathe in. "I just...thought you'd want to know. You remember Anastasia's mother?"

At the mention of Anastasia's name, my heart gave a familiar, almost nostalgic pang. She had been my first love, my childhood friend turned girlfriend...when we were younger. Though life pulled us in different directions, we'd left things respectfully. Her family had always been kind to me and my mom was close with hers.

"Yes, of course. What happened?" I asked, feeling the unease settle in my chest.

Her voice cracked slightly as she continued. "Her mother passed away this morning. I only just heard. The funeral arrangements will be held this week."

The news sank in slowly. Anastasia's mom had always been warm and welcoming, treating me with kindness, as if I were part of the family. She used to tease us, saying we were two halves of the same soul. And maybe we were.

I could feel the memories flooding back...laughing with Anastasia in her kitchen, her mother close by, offering us homemade cookies and insisting I always stay for dinner. It was at her house that I learned what it felt like to be completely myself. 

Anastasia and I had a way of reading each other without words. We'd shared everything from dreams, fears, our deepest thoughts. She'd been my first love, but she'd also been my best friend. It felt like we were connected by some invisible thread and being with her was the first time I felt truly seen.

"Charles?" My mom's voice brought me back. "I thought you'd want to know...Anastasia, she's devastated, I'm sure. She and her mother were very close."

I swallowed, looking down at the city below, feeling a strange heaviness. It wasn't just sadness. It was...complicated. I couldn't imagine what Anastasia must be going through and knowing her heart was breaking now made something inside me ache.

"Thank you for telling me, Maman," I said. "Do you think...would it be alright if I went to the funeral?"

"I think it would mean a lot to her, Charles. And to her family. She was such an important part of your life, after all."

I nodded, though she couldn't see me. "Yes. I think I need to."

There was a silence between us before she sighed softly, "I know you'll be a comfort to her. Take care of yourself too, mon coeur. I know this isn't easy."