On and Off the Track

S I X T Y S I X

Stepping out of the terminal at Monza's small airport, the late summer heat instantly wrapped around me. I scanned the crowd of people waiting just outside, a mix of travellers and excited fans already donning Ferrari caps and waving flags for the upcoming Grand Prix. And then I saw him. Leaning casually against his Ferrari, sunglasses on, arms crossed, Charles looked every bit the part of an F1 driver. But there was something softer in the way he was waiting for me—a casual confidence, sure, but also a spark of excitement I could feel even from a distance. His lips curved into a small smile the moment our eyes met, and my heart skipped a beat. He pushed himself off the car and took a few strides toward me, taking off his sunglasses and tucking them into his shirt. I barely had time to think before he was in front of me, pulling me into his arms.
"Miss me?" he asked, his voice low and teasing, his breath brushing my ear. I leaned into him, my fingers trailing along the collar of his shirt.
"Maybe just a little," I replied, a grin tugging at my lips. But the warmth flooding through me betrayed how much I'd actually missed him. Being apart, even for a few days, felt like a lifetime. Charles pulled back just enough to look at me, his hands still resting on my waist.
"You look tired," he said softly, brushing a strand of hair away from my face. "Long flight?" I nodded, feeling a sudden wave of exhaustion hit now that I was finally in his arms. But the moment I met his gaze, all the fatigue seemed to melt away.
"Nothing a hug from you can't fix." He chuckled, pulling me closer again, squeezing me tightly like he never wanted to let go.
"I can do better than that," he said, stepping back and gesturing to the Ferrari. "Let's get out of here. I have the whole day planned." I raised an eyebrow, crossing my arms playfully.
"Oh? The whole day, huh? What makes you think I'm not going to just sleep the minute we get back?" He smirked, sliding his sunglasses back on and opening the passenger door for me. "Trust me, you won't want to sleep through this." I laughed, shaking my head, and climbed into the car. As Charles slid into the driver's seat beside me, I felt the familiar rush of excitement that came with being around him, like every moment with him was filled with promise. The engine roared to life, and with a wink, he took off, speeding down the road like it was our own private racetrack.

The city of Monza blurred around us, but at that moment, all I could focus on was him—the way he smiled as he drove, the way his hand reached over to rest on my knee. After a quick stop at our hotel to drop off my bags, Charles whisked me away again, navigating the narrow streets of Monza with a natural ease, his hand resting lightly on the gear shift, occasionally sliding over to give my leg a reassuring squeeze. I glanced out the window, feeling a mixture of excitement and nerves bubbling inside me. The love for Charles from the tifosi was always overwhelming. And today, I was about to experience it up close. As we pulled up in front of the Ray-Ban store, one of Charles' major sponsors, I could already see a crowd forming. Fans lined the sidewalks, holding Ferrari flags and banners, cheering the moment they spotted the red Ferrari pulling into view. Charles looked over at me, a knowing smirk on his face.
"Ready?" I rolled my eyes playfully, my heart racing as I glanced at the growing number of cameras and phones pointed our way.
"I don't think I'll ever be ready for this." He leaned over, placing a quick kiss on my temple. "You've got this. Besides, they love you."

The second we stepped out of the car, the crowd erupted into cheers. Shouts of Charles' name filled the air, but I could also hear murmurs and excited gasps as people noticed me beside him. I was no stranger to attention, but this—this was a whole different level. We made our way toward the store, Charles' arm slipping around my waist as he waved to the fans, his smile easy and confident. I followed his lead, offering small waves and smiles, but my mind was spinning. I could feel eyes on me—curious, admiring, maybe even a little envious. Inside the store, the staff greeted us warmly, and Charles immediately started trying on sunglasses with his usual charm, laughing and joking with the employees. But I could still hear the crowd outside, see the flashes of cameras through the windows, and feel the weight of being part of Charles' world. He was in his element here, grinning as he slipped on a pair of sleek Ray-Bans, posing for photos and signing autographs for the staff. Every few minutes, he'd glance back at me, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
"What do you think?" he asked, tilting his head playfully as he modelled another pair. I couldn't help but laugh, shaking my head.
"You look like a movie star."
"Only because you're standing next to me," Charles shot back smoothly, making me roll my eyes again, though I couldn't suppress my grin.