⌞ the chain ⌝

⌞ forty-six : daddy's girl ⌝

"It's... I know you don't really want to talk to him or anything. But it's Dad... he's not doing well."

_ 

I was home. I told myself I would never come back here, and yet, I stood on the porch, bag in hand, trying to get myself to push past the door. Charlie was already here and I could see that Lore's car was in the drive. But I still couldn't do it. I couldn't get past the fucking steps and I hated myself for it. 

I was stronger than this. I had been talking with this therapist that Damon got me, I've been reaching out to the grid fathers, talking with my friends and Arty. But this? Why was the fact that my dad, who I didn't even care about, was on the verge of dying messing with my head? It wasn't fair. I shouldn't feel affected by this. 

"Long time no see, kiddo." 

I blinked, and a smile crept across my face as I saw Lore leaning against the doorframe. I dropped my bags, running the past few steps to him. Both of us laughed as he wrapped his arms around my shoulder, my arms going around his waist. My big brother, I had missed him. So much. 

"Hi, Lore," I whispered into the hug, taking in the familiar scent of his colonge. It was such a comfort. I didn't realize I'd forgotten what it was and how much I missed it. 

Of course, we'd grown apart even before I moved out. I was starting to think it was because he knew just what Dad was like. So I wondered why he was here. I knew he couldn't care less for the old man, and he'd never much cared for Mom either. Maybe he was here for emotional support. If Dad did die, Lore would be the man of the house. He would probably have to stay behind to help take care of Mom. Charlie couldn't do it; Dad's one goal was that he raced for Ferrari. Arty was too young, and I knew that Lore would never do that to him. 

And there was me. I was sure that some part of my parents were really hoping this brought me home and made me realize that my 'fantasy' was over. But I wouldn't. I wouldn't. 

"Come on, kid. Let's get this over with." 

_ 

The house was filled with the scent of fresh herbs, cinnamon, lemon, and tea. Mom was over here trying all these old wives tales of things to make Dad feel good. Which meant that Dad was probably refusing real medical help. Great, this was going to be a long day. 

"Eilulia!" 

I forced myself not to tense as I heard my mother's voice. A forced smile came onto my face as her hands came up to cup my face. I couldn't lean away, that would be shitty of me. She was still my mother; she probably cared. And that was the worst part. Because I was back in this fucking house and I was really wanting to call Lewis. 

"Hi, Ma." 

"Oh, look at you. You're so pretty and your hair... oh, why did you cut it? It was so pretty long. And such expensive clothes? You don't need to show off, never send any money home-" 

"Ma. Stop. Stop." I pulled away from her touch. I couldn't do the lecturing and judgmental things. 

Of course, I didn't send money home. It was mine. I worked my ass off for it. I put hours upon hours worth of training in, flight hours, film, stats, data, planning, races. I was practically killing my body and mind, day in and out. Only for her to ask why I'd cut my hair and why I didn't send money home? I was not going to make it through this. 

"Eli, that you, girl?" 

My entire heart dropped, and I wondered if I had stopped breathing. My dad. Who I hadn't seen since the day I left this place. The last real thing he'd given me was a black eye and fear that took months' worth of therapy to even begin to get through. But my mom pushed me into his room, and my eyes couldn't help but land on the bed. He looked... he looked like a ghost already. 

"Father." 

"Eilulia." He sat up with a wince of pain. "Sit." 

My body moved on habit, taking the spot on the edge of the bed. I wondered what he saw when he looked at me. Did he see Jules like the others did? Did he see Charlie, knowing how deeply the two of us looked like two sides of the same coin? Did he see himself, like I did, every time I looked in a mirror? He wouldn't. Because I could never be him and I would never be good enough to live up to whatever legacy he'd built in his mind. 

"Racing, then?" 

"Yes, sir." 

He nodded, coughing softly before clearing his throat. "Not Ferrari." 

"Not yet." 

"Charlie said he signed with Ferrari for next year." 

I had heard about that. Charlie had told me he'd lied to Father about it because he didn't want the old man to die disappointed. And I cared enough about Charlie not to say anything. It wouldn't do anything but ruin the relationship we were working on. I wasn't about to lose him again, not after I'd just barely got him back. 

"Who are you signed with?"

"Still Redbull for now, sir," I muttered. Damon said he was sure that Christian was thinking about moving me up. I had been outperforming Jem this entire season, and with Redbull's need to be the best at all times, he was hoping it meant I would go up. And if not, well, another season in F2 wouldn't kill me. I just wanted to be with my friends. 

It was silent for a moment, and I took a second to look at him. I had always wanted to make him like me, be proud of the fact that I carried some part of the family name. I used to pray that he would act like Jules. But that was never the case; he had his favorites, and I was never going to be on that list. Even if Arty had said that Father watched the races. I'm sure he was only doing it for Charlie. I could almost imagine the disgust on his face when I performed better than Charlie, and the idea made me sick to my stomach. 

I was still just a little girl who wanted her father to love her. To be excited when she brought home a good test grade instead of saying how Charlie did better. I wanted to have him play with me in the park and know all my favorite things. But that wasn't my father, I knew that. And I had long since realized that I did have those things. Because I had Jules. 

And Jules gave me the chance to have Lewis, who hung up pictures of my race wins in the flat in London. I had Nico who would spam my phone with good luck messages before every practice session, every qualifying session, every race. I had Sebastion who said on record any chance he could get that he was proud of his daughter and the fact that I was the best driver Redbull ever had the chance to have. I had Dani, who would still send me all the funniest pictures and relive moments with Jules that we shared. I had Jenson, who came to every single race he could and made sure to treat Lando like his own. I had Kimi, who, even if he didn't show much emotion, always made me feel loved in his own way. 

I had Lando, who was slowly becoming my person, if he wasn't already. The boy who continued to remind me that love can be felt in so many different ways, the boy who had the sweetest words to say and was definitely fighting the grid fathers for my biggest fan. I had Jem. And while we weren't the closest, he was still a good friend. He pushed me because he knew I could. I had George and Alex. I had Damon, who was like Lore and Jules in all the best possible ways because he got it. He understood the rage and the fire and the need to be the greatest thing this sport had ever seen because I was. I was a force to be reckoned with. 

So I didn't need him. I didn't ever need him. I had a village and one man, one fucked up man, couldn't see that I was worth all of it and so much more. Then that was on him. 

"I'm proud of you, Eli." 

And the world stopped. 

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a/n: ehehe, i promised angst. i did say it was coming and this is just the beginning. i love you all, i hope you know that. and i totally haven't been manifesting that yuki fucking kills it in that redbull because bro deserves the seat. and so, as always, love it or don't :p