Breaking the Grid

FaceTime

It's almost midnight here in Paris, and I'm lounging on the couch in my hotel room, one eye on the F1 race and one ear tuned to Kyra's voice on FaceTime. She's propped up against a pillow, looking cozy in her hoodie, barely glancing at the screen as she watches her series. I can tell she's still a bit tired from her game against the U.S., but she played well, and the 2-2 result was solid.

"Blair, are you actually watching, or are you just there for the snacks?" she teases, noticing the popcorn bowl in my lap.

"Both," I say, grinning as I pop another handful into my mouth. "If I were there with you, you'd be eating all my snacks anyway."

She laughs softly, her focus still on her series. We're not even watching the same thing, yet somehow, I feel closer to her like this than I have in days. Being so far from each other, we barely get moments like this.

"So, how's Paris?" she asks, pulling me back from my thoughts.

I shrug, glancing out the window at the city lights. "Honestly? Still don't get the hype. Everyone romanticizes Paris, but it's just... loud, busy, and everyone's in a rush. But it's good to be back in France. I missed speaking French, and it's nice seeing fans here again."

"Only you could go to the 'City of Love' and call it overrated," she laughs, shaking her head. "But yeah, I get it. It's nice you're reconnecting with your fans, though. I know they've missed seeing you."

I smile at that. "It feels good to be back, in a way. Even if I'd rather be anywhere else."

"Where?" she asks, eyebrow raised, a hint of a smirk on her face.

"any country as long as you're in it" I reply, smirking right back.

She goes a little quiet at that, glancing away from the camera. But I can see the soft smile she's trying to hide. Moments like these feel rare and precious, like I'm holding onto something fragile but infinitely worth it.

"Alright," I say, breaking the silence. "Tell me, what episode are you on?"

"Oh, it's just some random one," she says nonchalantly. "Honestly, I barely remember what's happening because someone keeps distracting me with popcorn noises and racing commentary."

"Fine, fine, I'll mute myself," I tease, leaning back and trying to focus on the race. But it's hard, with her on the other end of the line. I realize, as I watch the cars tear down the track, that no matter where we are, these small moments we steal with each other make it feel like maybe the distance isn't so bad. For now, this is enough.

I lean forward, eyes glued to the screen as Lando takes a corner with precision. "Come on, Lando... push it," I mutter, barely noticing how tightly I'm gripping the popcorn bowl. But then, out of nowhere, Oscar makes an aggressive move and overtakes him, slipping smoothly into first. I let out a groan, louder than I'd intended.

"God... he's too good," I say, almost to myself, a strange mix of admiration and dread settling in my stomach.

Kyra glances up at me from her screen. "What was that?"

I shake my head, forcing a laugh. "Nothing. Just—Oscar's killing it out there. Makes me a little nervous, you know?"

She studies me, eyes narrowing slightly. "You think they'd want to keep him instead of you?"

I hesitate, glancing away from her gaze. "I don't know... He's talented, and he's getting results. It's just... sometimes, I wonder if I'll even have a seat to go back to."

"Blair, come on," she says, voice soft but firm. "You're Blair Becks. The only woman on the grid. You know how much that means to people? To the sport?"