On and Off the Track

N I N E T Y F I V E.

The next morning, we packed our bags, ready to head back to Monaco. As we settled into the jet, I felt a mix of exhaustion and exhilaration. The cabin was spacious and luxurious, a far cry from the chaos of the paddock and the relentless media attention we faced in Abu Dhabi. We nestled into the plush seats, the hum of the engines creating a soothing backdrop. I gazed out of the window, watching the landscape below shift from desert to the vibrant blues of the Mediterranean. Turning to Charles, who was scrolling through his phone, catching up on messages from his team, I smiled.
"Are you excited to get back home?" I asked, trying to brighten the mood.
"Definitely. I miss it. I'm ready to just relax and see everyone" he replied, setting his phone aside and giving me his full attention.
"Yeah, I'm looking forward to that too," I said, feeling a spark of excitement. We spent the flight chatting about everything and nothing, planning casual outings, and discussing ideas for the upcoming off-season. The conversation flowed easily, a comforting rhythm we'd developed over time. As the plane neared Monaco, my excitement grew.
"I can't believe we're almost home! I can't wait to walk through the streets again, maybe grab a coffee at that little place we love," I said, smiling at the thought. Charles grinned, his eyes twinkling with the same excitement.
"Sounds perfect. We can take our time, enjoy the atmosphere, and maybe even celebrate with some friends."

When we landed, the familiar sights of the south of France welcomed us, the bright blue sea, the majestic cliffs, and the bustling streets. My heart swelled with happiness. We made our way through the airport and soon found ourselves in Charles's car, driving through the winding roads back to the apartment. I was buzzing with excitement, not just to be home but because I had a little surprise planned for Charles. He had no idea what was waiting for him back at the apartment, and I could hardly contain my anticipation. We parked and made our way up, with Charles casually commenting on how nice it felt to be back.
"Can't wait to just chill tonight," he said with a relaxed smile, totally unaware of the big celebration ahead. I unlocked the door, and the second we stepped inside, the lights flicked on, and a massive cheer erupted.
"Surprise!" everyone shouted in unison. Charles froze, his eyes wide with shock as he took in the sight. His whole family was there—his mom, brothers, and even some of his cousins. And not just his family, my family was there too, along with all of his closest friends. Mila, Pierre, Charlotte, and Arthur were standing near the front, beaming at him. The room was decked out with balloons and banners, and there was a giant cake on the dining table with "World Champion" written in bold letters. Charles turned to me, still in disbelief.
"Did you...?" I smiled, wrapping my arms around his waist.
"Surprise, world champion. You deserve this." He laughed, shaking his head in awe.
"You're incredible. I can't believe you pulled this off."

Everyone swarmed us, congratulating him again, offering hugs and cheers. The whole place was filled with energy and joy. Charles looked around, his face glowing, clearly touched by how many people were there to celebrate with him. It was the perfect way to mark the end of an unforgettable season. I noticed Charles' mom and his brother, Arthur, making their way over. His mom, Pascale, had that unmistakable proud-mother glow. She went straight to him, pulling him into a tight embrace.
"Oh, mon chéri, I am so proud of you!" she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. She pulled back just enough to cup his face, smiling up at him. "You did it, and you did it so beautifully." Charles smiled down at her, his eyes soft with affection.
"Merci, Maman. I couldn't have done it without you." Pascale's eyes flickered to me briefly, her smile widening.
"And I'm sure Bronte had a little something to do with that as well." Charles chuckled, glancing at me before pulling his mum into another hug. Arthur stepped forward next, his usual playful smirk in place but with a deeper sense of pride shining through.
"World Champion, huh?" he teased, clapping his brother on the back. "Not bad. Maybe next time I'll take the title from you." Charles laughed, shaking his head.
"You'll have to catch up first." Arthur grinned, pulling his brother into a quick hug before stepping back.
"Seriously though, I'm proud of you, bro. You deserve this." Just then Lorenzo approached, a wide smile on his face.
"What's this? The new champion in the family?" he exclaimed, wrapping his arms around him for a tight embrace.
"Lorenzo!" Charles chuckled, patting his brother's back. "Yeah, I finally did it!"
"Of course you did! I knew you had it in you!" Lorenzo said, stepping back to look at him. "All those years of hard work and dedication have paid off. You've made us all proud."
"Thanks, man," he replied, his smile brightening. "I couldn't have done it without your support. You've always been there to motivate me."
"Always," Lorenzo said, nodding earnestly.
"I'll make sure to celebrate with you guys properly. Maybe a family dinner next week?" he replied, feeling a surge of gratitude.
"Count me in," Lorenzo said, clapping his hands together. "Let's make it a big one. You deserve to bask in this glory!". As the crowd surged around us, I noticed my parents making their way over, beaming with excitement. My dad was the first to speak, clapping Charles on the back with a wide grin.
"World Champion! We've watched every race this season. You were incredible, Charles!" My mum nodded enthusiastically, pulling him into a warm hug.
"We're so proud of you. You handled the pressure brilliantly. And that final race, what a finish!" Charles, clearly touched, smiled warmly at them.
"Thank you so much. That really means a lot." My dad couldn't help himself, jumping into a breakdown of the last few laps, talking about strategy and tire choices like he was on the pit wall himself.
"When you went for that overtaking move in the last sector, I knew you had it. That was textbook racing!" Charles chuckled, clearly enjoying my dad's enthusiasm.
"Yeah, it was a tough one, but everything came together in the end." I stood back, watching my parents excitedly talk with Charles, pride swelling in my chest. It was nice to see them bonding over something they loved, and even better to see Charles being celebrated not just as my boyfriend, but as the racing hero they admired.

After the heartfelt congratulations from our families, the atmosphere in the apartment shifted to one of festive excitement. We all gathered in the living room, the sound of laughter and chatter filling the space as drinks and snacks were passed around. Charles poured champagne for everyone, raising his glass to make a toast.
"To hard work paying off!" he declared, his voice steady but filled with joy.
"Cheers!" we all replied in unison, clinking our glasses together, the bubbles sparkling in the dim light of the apartment. As we settled in with our drinks, I noticed the energy in the room. Charles' friends shared stories of the season, recounting both the nail-biting races and the lighter moments behind the scenes.

After a while, someone suggested we take the celebration outside. "Monaco is alive tonight! We should be part of it!" one of Charles' friends exclaimed, and the idea quickly caught on. We all headed out into the cool night air, stepping onto the bustling streets of Monaco. The atmosphere was electric, and I could feel the excitement bubbling within me. As we walked, I was struck by the sight of colourful banners hanging from windows, congratulating Charles. The whole city seemed to be celebrating with us, its residents smiling and waving as we passed.
"Look at this!" Charles said, pointing to a banner draped across a building, its bright letters spelling out "Félicitations, Charles!" The streets were alive with music, laughter, and the sounds of clinking glasses as people celebrated in the cafés and restaurants lining the promenade.
"Let's go in there!" Arthur shouted, gesturing toward a lively spot where music pulsed from within.

We made our way inside, where the atmosphere was vibrant and welcoming. Charles' friends were quick to order rounds of drinks, and soon we were all dancing and cheering, celebrating his victory in the heart of Monaco. The night quickly escalated into an unforgettable celebration. After a few drinks at the bar, the idea of partying on a boat took shape, and soon enough, we found ourselves at the marina, boarding a sleek yacht. The cool night air wrapped around us, and the sound of laughter echoed across the water as we settled in. As the boat pulled away from the dock, I watched the lights of Monaco fade slightly into the distance, replaced by the sparkling waves reflecting the moonlight. Charles was in high spirits, his laughter ringing out as he threw an arm around Arthur and one of his friends, pulling them into a spontaneous group hug.
"World champion! World champion!" he chanted, his voice comically loud, drawing cheers from the rest of us. I couldn't help but laugh at how carefree he was, a stark contrast to the focused driver I often saw during the season. Within minutes, the drinks started flowing freely again. Charles grabbed a bottle of champagne and, with a cheeky grin, announced, "Alright, everyone, this is for the championship! And for my amazing girlfriend who planned this perfect surprise!" He popped the cork, the sound echoing into the night, and sprayed champagne everywhere. Laughter erupted as everyone tried to dodge the bubbly shower, and Charles spun around, pouring himself a generous glass before handing it to me. "Here, mon coeur! Drink up! We're celebrating!" he declared, his speech slightly slurred but his energy infectious.

As the night progressed, Charles' antics became more hilarious. He attempted to lead a dance party on the deck, showcasing some questionable moves that had us all in stitches. At one point, he climbed up onto a small table, arms raised triumphantly, shouting,
"I am the champion!"
"More like the champion of clumsiness!" someone shouted back, and the laughter only fueled his over-the-top performance. With each round of drinks, he got bolder, his sense of humour shining through. Eventually, he flopped down on the deck, looking up at the stars, a goofy grin plastered on his face.
"You know what, Bronte?" he slurred slightly, his eyes twinkling. "I really think I could get used to this whole 'champion' thing. Like, maybe I'll just take up permanent residency on this boat." I lay beside him, resting my head on his shoulder as I laughed softly.
"You could be the world champion of partying!"
"Exactly!" he proclaimed, raising his glass to the sky. "Cheers to that! And to my amazing girlfriend! You're the real MVP here!" We all joined in a raucous cheer, clinking glasses, revelling in the joy of the night. The boat rocked gently beneath us as we shared stories, laughter, and memories, each moment a little more outrageous than the last. As the night wore on, the combination of drinks and the lively atmosphere had us all feeling invincible. Charles, ever the jokester, started a round of karaoke, belting out off-key renditions of popular songs, his voice booming over the sound of the waves. Everyone joined in, singing and dancing, creating a cacophony of joy and celebration that echoed into the night.