|| sequel to " to the finish line || ollie bearman" ||
angel and ollie have a perfect relationship, or at least had. when a photo appears online, their relationship ends, and the two f1 rookies split their separate ways.
angel has to survive her fir...
i woke up to the sound of rain powerfully hitting the window, the rain which was supposed to continue for most of the day. the rain which i was currently safe and protected from while locked inside the hotel room.
i woke up, to strong arms around my stomach, a brunette-haired boy resting his head on top of me, slowly moving up and down with my every breathe. normally, it was me resting on him: but i equally love it when he sleeps on top of me.
i rest my hand on ollie's hair, gently messing with his hair whilst trying not to wake him up.
"good morning." ollie grumbles, moving his head slightly.
"morning." i reply, smiling down at him.
"did i wake you?" i ask.
"no, i've been awake for a while." he replies, moving so i could see his face.
"how did you sleep?"
"brilliantly." he replies, grabbing his phone to see the time, 8:24.
"i think we woke up a little late." i say, laughing a little.
"just a bit. whose showering first?" he asks, sitting up, facing me.
"i will, you can stay in bed a little longer." i say, climbing out from under the blanket.
"great." he says, wrapping the blanket around him as he places his head on the pillow as i head into the bathroom.
45 minutes later, we were both ready to leave for the track, waiting for the taxi to set off from its last drop to pick us up. and for once, i had managed to get ready without crying. mostly because ollie refused to let me use a mirror for long.
but still, i wouldn't be doing media today. then i was confident i would have ended up in tears somehow. i was also confident that me and ollie would be the last drivers to arrive at the track.
"how do i look?" i ask, probably for the 50th time in the past 20 minutes. it was hard not being able to use a mirror.
"ang, you look perfect." he says, placing his hand on mine as i give him a smile in thanks.
(outfit below)
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"i wouldn't say that-"
"well i would." ollie interrupts.
"it's meant to be another wet race." i say a few moments later.
"are you worried?"
"no, of course i'm not worried. why would i be?"
"i don't know, i was just checking. yesterday, you know you could have qualified higher than you did."
"was it that obvious?"
"was it that obvious that you slowed down in the final sector so you wouldn't have to do the interview immediately? yes. to me at least."
"it might not have been obvious to others."
"maybe not. but you shouldn't limit yourself because of being filmed."
"i know, i need the points. but i just... im here because of my driving, im here too drive. i just don't get why the media has to play such a big part. it's pointless, it takes away from what i love."
"i know, it can be shit sometimes. especially for you. but you need to ignore it you know? let the haters know it doesn't affect you, even if it does."
"i guess."
"so, a podium finish?"
"i'll try."
"and if you do, which you will, i'll be watching from down below"
"fuck no."
"no? what you don't want me to watch?"
"no, your going to be on that podium with me, idiot. are you forgetting your only starting p5?"
"ang, i'm in a haas. i'm not getting on the podium.
"Oliver James Bearman!!"
"yes baby?" he replies, laughing slightly.
" are you so stupid to have forgotten that you won a race earlier this year?" i say, gently hitting him on the arm.
"no, no! okay. i will try to be on there with you."
"nope."
"are we really doing this?"
"yes."
"okay. angelina guilia antonelli, i will be on the podium with you."
"great news."
"we need to go before we miss our taxi, then we will be really late."
"if you think about it, we are already late." i say, but even so we leave our room. thankfully, the taxi didn't leave without us.
once we arrived at the track, ollie had to rush off to haas as he was already late for a meeting. thankfully, i still had 10 minutes until my meeting so i walked normally to the garage.
"angel!" i hear someone shout. i thought it was just a fan, so i carried on walking. not that i don't like my fans, im just not in a place for interaction this weekend. with fans, or really anyone. even yesterday's interviews was hard and that wasn't even 15 minutes in the media area.
"angel!" they repeat, close behind me.
i turn around, about to apologise to them, when i stop myself. it wasn't a fan. it was lando, who did not have an umbrella, so i hold mine over the both of us.
"lando, im late to a meeting. i need to go, sorry."
"yeah, because jules would miss a meeting to stand out in the rain."
"right... sorry."
"..how are you doing?" he asks. very straight to the point, not even a hello.
"i thought conversations started with hello." i joke, making him smile.
"how are you? i feel like you've been hiding away from everything."
"well, that's probably because i am hiding away from everyone."
"i know. you can talk to me you know? im here for you, we don't even have to talk. i know your going through a tough time."
"tough is an understatement. i've spent half my time crying."
"im sorry angel, you don't deserve any of this." lando says, and i stay quiet.
yes you do. you deserve every bad thing that has ever happened to you.
"come here kid." he says, pulling me into a hug.
"thank you." i say quietly once i pull away.
"of course, im here for you."
"im sorry for how i reacted lando, i really am. it was ... not right of me."
"you don't need to apologise, i get how you feel. i've got to get to mclaren, but i will see you later yeah?"
"yeah, sure."
"ill see you out on track!" he shouts from further down the paddock
