⌞ thirty-three : motivations ⌝

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"They're going to be pissed if I win, might as well give them something nice to look at."

I had gotten through most of the weekend. Free Practice felt awful and I was struggling to breathe the entire time. Damon wanted to pull me but I was not about to lose this again. I knew it took work to get back and I was willing to do that but what I wasn't about to do, was give up. Not when I had all eyes on me. The season was coming to an end and Lando was fighting for the championship. I had to make all of it count. 

Qualifying had gone about the same. Pain and low positions. I wanted to scream, I wanted to throw a fit but I was supposed to be better and get past my anger. However, my driver's trailer was my place and there were no cameras. And so I threw a proper fit. 

It felt childish and I hated myself through every second of it but I needed something. All the work I'd done was pushed back because I couldn't get out of my damn head. I hadn't listened, I had thought I could do everything myself and it put me in the hospital with everyone I loved being there to watch it. I was a child. I was a stupid little girl and I felt disgusted with myself.

"Lu- oh, sweetheart." 

I didn't need to look up to know it was Damon. He was on the floor next to me and I leaned into his arms. And I cried. I cried for what felt like forever until I couldn't cry anymore and then I just sat there. My entire world felt like one step forward and nine hundred steps back. I was so tired. But I wasn't going to give up and prove everyone right. 

"Hiya, princess." 

I groaned as I heard the familiar voice on a one Jem Wright. He did what he usually did, which was whatever he wanted, and took the seat right next to me. 

"What do you want, Wright?" 

"You wound me. I thought we had a moment." 

I looked up from my tea and noticed that he had that same little smirk on his face. His hair was all messy from whatever he'd been doing this morning while we waited for the race to start. I knew he would come find me at some point seeing as I had avoided him for most of the weekend. I was already pissed off and I didn't want him to make it worse. 

"I thought we agreed not to be friends." 

"Eh." He shrugged. "I thought we agreed we were a lot more alike than you wanted to admit." 

I rolled my eyes but then again, he was right. We were alike and I found myself not hating it. Maybe we could have been friends and maybe we could have found a way not to completely hate each other. But I didn't know if I wanted that. To find someone like him to be like me. Racing was that way, we would all have a bit in common. 

"So what do you want?" 

"Can't I just check in on you?" 

"I guess so." 

"You've been having a rough weekend, I know that shit sucks." 

I scoffed. "You don't have to be a dick about it." 

"I'm not. I'm genuinely asking if you're good." 

I knew I wasn't good. I felt numb. I had cried until I physically couldn't anymore. I had screamed so much that I was sitting here, drinking tea until the race started so my throat didn't feel like it was on fire. My head was pounding and I felt like my chest was going to explode. I wasn't anywhere near good and I wanted to admit that. But to Jem Wright? 

I hadn't told Lando or George or Alex. I had been throwing on smiles and giving them reassuring statements. I didn't want them to worry. They would be scared and it would start that pity thing all over again and I couldn't handle that. But Jem? Would he be the one to give me pity? He didn't seem like it. In our stupid made-up rivalry, he was the one who saw me as anything more than just a racer. And through this weekend, he was the one that didn't seem to go easier on me just because I was hurt. 

"No." 

"Didn't think so. So what are you going to do about it?" 

"I have no clue." 

He snorted. "Always with the advice and then you have none? Come on. princess. You're telling me you don't know what you want?" 

"I want to win, I want to make it up to F1 and prove that all the work I did was for something. I want to be someone. I want to prove to my father that he's a bastard and that I am worth something. I want to show Lewis and Nico and Seb and Jenson and Dani and Kimi that putting their faith in me wasn't for nothing. I want to prove to Jules that our dream was a reality. I want to be... I want to be a legend." 

"Well, there she is." 

I felt something lift off my chest. I hadn't admitted it out loud to anyone. It had been all my guilt in years and the dreams I wanted. The thing I repeated to myself before every race to remind myself why I did this. Why I went through the hours of training and film and strat. Why I forced myself to the very edge every second. 

"Happy now?" 

"Very." He stood up, giving me one of those smiles that made the world stop for just a second. "Enjoy your race, princess. I'll see you on the steps." 

I watched him leave, confused as to why this was the conversation we had. Why he felt the need to push that out of me. To get me to admit that something was pushing me. Everyone had their motivations and I had mine. But what was his reason? What did he gain from knowing all of this? 

I pushed out of my chair, throwing away the now-cold tea as my mind spun. I needed to focus on this race. I needed to do everything I could to make it worth the pain and the work. But everything was stuck on Jem. And I hated it. But the vibration from my phone made me stop. 

Unknown

Hello, Ms. Bianchi-Leclerc.
It's been a minute since we last spoke.
I assume you don't have my number saved so
my name is Christian Horner and I want to
speak to you about next season.
Give me a call when you have the chance.
I think it's time to move you up to F2.

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a/n: hey guys, we're back. i know how excited you are. and you know, i mean. we kinda had to see this one coming. it's here. and what are we going to see next. ehe. all the love. and as always, love it or don't :p

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