𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐋𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐒 | 𝐋𝐍𝟒

𝐗𝐗𝐈𝐈

Milaine stretched her arms above her head, blinking against the soft morning light filtering through the curtains. For the first time in what felt like years, she woke up with a smile on her face—an actual, genuine smile.

It had been so long since she felt this way. After her father's death, waking up had become something she simply did, not something she looked forward to. Winning Grand Slams, lifting trophies, hearing the roar of the crowd—it gave her brief moments of happiness, sure. But it was always temporary. As soon as she opened her eyes the next morning, it was like she had fallen from grace, yanked back into reality where the weight of her loss never fully lifted.

But today was different.

Saturday had been good. No, it had been great. The best day she had in weeks, maybe even months. For once, she hadn't thought about her shoulder, about the injury that had been torturing her for days. She hadn't thought about Roland Garros looming just days away, bringing with it the pressure, the doubts , the frustration of not knowing if she'd even be able to compete at her best.

She had forgotten all of it.

Instead, her mind had been occupied with something else entirely—McLaren, the familiaywarmth of the team around her. The race weekend atmosphere had a way of pulling her in, making her forget everything else. And dinner with Max and Kelly had been the perfect end to an already perfect day.

Milaine had barely shifted in bed when the door swung open with force, nearly slamming against the wall.

«Alright, rise and shine, superstar!» Viv's voice rang out like a storm, her energy far too intense for this early in the morning. «Big day ahead. Get up, get dressed, and don't even think about rolling back under those covers.»

Milaine groaned, turning onto her side to glare at her manager, who was already pacing around the room, pulling open curtains and checking her phone at the same time. «God, Viv, ever heard of knocking?»

Viv ignored her, flipping through her schedule. «You should be thanking me. If I didn't wake you up, you'd be late, and then I'd have to deal with the disaster that is you running late.» She didn't even pause to take a breath. «Alright, here's the plan—McLaren's expecting you at the paddock in a couple of hours, but Enjoying the race, you have an interview with Canal+.»

Milaine frowned, rubbing her temples. «What interview?»

«The one I scheduled yesterday, which you nodded to while drinking wine before you slept» Viv said, unimpressed. «You're welcome, by the way. They're french so they respect you, and It's good PR.»

Milaine sighed but didn't argue. «Fine, what else?»

Viv's eyes flicked back to her phone, scrolling rapidly. «Oh—Alcaraz is here too, apparently. He's with Ferrari for the day, so you two will head to the paddock together.»

That made Milaine perk up a little. «Carlitos is here?»

Viv nodded. «Yep, so at least you won't be entering the paddock like a loner» She smirked, looking up from her phone.

«Now, seriously, get moving. We don't have time for you to sit around staring at the ceiling.»

Milaine rolled her eyes but finally threw the covers off, stretching before sliding out of bed.

•••••

Milaine stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the tiny straps of her mini orange dress. The color was perfect—McLaren orange, bold and bright—but her eyes kept drifting to the brace wrapped around her shoulder, peeking out enough to be noticeable.