( GLADLY BEYOND ── XIII. ) ♡ ˚.*ೃ THE DOS AND DON'TS OF YOUR CHOICES
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Precious hours became days, and days became weeks, and before Anne-Laure could truly come to terms with her new circumstances, the end of the F1 season had arrived, and she was still not quite speaking to Charles. Not quite Arthur, either. But she was in attendance at the final race anyway, this time in a blue garage instead of a red one.
She kept a low profile, no flashy outfits or jewelry. A plain cap on her head. No longer an attentive appearance or loud or making her presence very known at all, just there for the race, nothing more. She sat in the hospitality lounge and didn't know anyone, and felt innately alone. To stave off the anxiety and convince herself that there was no need to know anyone anyway, she kept her eyes on the screens that showed the race, watching the blue cars barrel down the main straights and cut through turns.
A part of her imagined what it felt like to be in that car. The speed. The force rushing through expectantly warm blood. Adrenaline. Skating along the limits.
The other part of her felt pain curdling in her chest at the thought of it. Not quite sadness, not quite anxiety.
Grief, maybe.
Grieving something that was dead, and now a ghost to her.
After the race, the chaos of the season's conclusion made it difficult for her to find her way around. Franco had not been able to finish the race and had retreated into his garage early on ─ she could see from the screens ─ but now she could not seem to find him anywhere in the dark, hot paddock. A quick text his way. People bustling and bumping her around. McLaren celebrating with champagne and poppers. Happiness. Excitement. And yet the chaos was so uniform and tight; so aware of consequences and aware of everything that didn't belong. Anne-Laure didn't belong.
