𝐖𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃 ★ charles leclerc

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙛𝙞𝙛𝙩𝙮 𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙚, maisie

❝ this world can hurt you. ❞
⇄ ◃◃   ⅠⅠ   ▹▹ ↻

He's a funny man. Thinking he can just yell at me because he's hurting as if I'm not. I couldn't care less right now. This win is mine. What's he gonna do from P3? Stay there? Good job.

This race is literally mine to lose.

One light. Two lights, my grip tightens on the wheel. I'm not breathing. Three. Four. Five. Silence.

"It's lights out and away we go!"

I launch off the line. The tires spin for a split second before gripping, propelling me forward. To my right, Lando gets a flyer, his papaya-orange McLaren nose edging up alongside me into Turn 1. I shove him wide, no hesitation. He backs off.

I look in my mirrors and see red, Charles's Ferrari darts past Lando, taking P2 before the esses. Damn it. Of all people, it's him.

The opening laps are a blur of precision and chaos. Suzuka doesn't let up. I hit my marks, every apex perfect, but Charles is relentless. He's in my mirrors, stalking me.

"Leclerc P2, half a second behind." Cecilee says.

"No kidding!" I snap, yanking the car through Degner. My tires already feel like they're screaming. "I need a gap. Tell me the pace!" I howl.

The laps fly by and he's always there. My braking is on the edge, my corner exits flawless, but I can't shake him. Every time I glance in the mirrors, that Ferrari is closer, like a red demon ready to strike.

"Box this lap." Comes the call over the radio.

"Fucking..." I mutter, the pits being my most hated moment, the longest seconds in the whole race and some of the most crucial ones, especially when I have a Ferrari breathing down my neck waiting at any moment to take me down.

I drive the car into the pit entry. My braking is perfect, my entry flawless. The car stops. The seconds drag.

3.1 seconds.

I'm already moving before the rear jack drops, but I can already feel how much we just lost on the few milliseconds of stupidity.

"What the hell was that?!" I shout, slamming my fist against the wheel. "Are we racing or hosting a tea party?! Kess ekhta! (Fuck it!)"

"Head down." Cecilee tries to calm me down, but that race is important for me. "Simulator shows you're still in the lead."

For now.

When I reclaim my P1 position, Charles is right behind, waiting out every weakness, every small error. I block hard into Turn 1, slamming the door shut. He dives at the hairpin, but I shove him wide. He backs off, but not by much.

I know I'm a reckless driver. But I know my limits. Anyone who's displeased can fuck right off.

"Stay behind me, damn it!" I yell into my helmet, gritting my teeth as I push the car through Spoon. My tires are going. The rear is sliding more with every corner.

Final lap. One more. I take a deep breath and shout, "Let's go! One more lap! Come on!"

He's closer than ever. Through the esses, he's smoother, faster, cutting into my lead. I'm fighting the car, my hands twitching on the wheel as the rear slides again through Degner.

At Spoon, I go wide. Just a fraction, but it's enough. The Ferrari dives into my slipstream, and I know what's coming.

Down the back straight, he's gaining. I throw the car to the inside, forcing him to the outside into 130R. Flat out, side by side at 320 km/h. My heart's pounding, and I scream. "Wlek hadiya! Khalas Ba2a! (Come on! Hold it!)"