[2] ONE || C. LECLERC

FORTY NINE

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CAMILLE

Lando was resting peacefully on the sofa bed in the corner of the hotel room when I woke up, my eyes feeling heavy as I groaned, with the memories of last night flooding back. My head ached, and this all seemed a little too familiar for my liking. Everything ached, but particularly my heart, as I thought about the way I spoke to Max, regret eating away at me because I felt so guilty. I didn't hate him, and I never could hate him, because without Max, my life would be totally different. I wouldn't be Camille without Max.

I lifted myself out of bed and placed my legs over the side, sighing heavily and pulling on the strands of my hair, deciding that taking a shower would be the best option for me. I shuffled across the floor grabbing some clean underwear, my jogging bottoms and a crop top, before heading into the bathroom and closing the door behind me. I frowned; the bathroom was full of my shit, the contents of my makeup bag was sprawled across the sink area, after I dragged myself back here to get ready after yesterday's race. I looked for a clean towel, smiling as I placed one over the closest rack to the shower. I ensured that my shampoo and conditioner was in the shower cubicle already, placed on the shelf and ready for me to use. I turned the shower on before I stripped out of my pyjamas, throwing them onto the floor and allowing the temperature of the water to scold my back. I let out a long awaited sigh as my muscles relaxed beneath the hot water.

I allowed my mind to wander, and unusually, it headed straight towards Stefan. This never happened, and that evening in Belgium rarely crossed my mind. I believed that I was at a good place, especially mentally, despite everything that went on involving Charles. I could still remember the feeling of his hands against my waist as he forced me closer towards his chest. No matter how hard I tried to erase all of the unwanted thoughts and feelings which Stefan left me with. Stefan was cruel, and his behaviour was most unfair on that night. I called him my friend when I was growing up. He was important to me, a close friend who my family welcomed happily into our home. He got on well with Max, he appreciated the friendship and the bond I shared with Max because of mama's close relationship with Sophie.

I thought the closeness of our bodies on that night was Stefan's way of protecting me. Max wasn't here, so somebody had to keep an eye on me, and tonight, it was Stefan's turn. When he took me to the furthest corner of the room, I didn't think anything of it. Maybe he wanted to talk to me, with some privacy, or something like that. Stefan made me feel safe; his grip was comforting and the sound of his gentle breathing in my ear ensured me that he was okay. However, when Stefan told me that he wanted to rip my dress off of my body, I knew that something was wrong and as soon as he muttered those words to me, I wanted Max. The tone of Stefan's voice was so aggressive, and I felt sick. I was too intoxicated, too weak to fight back and my friends were totally out of sight now, because Stefan had planned this and he wanted to make me feel uncomfortable. He wanted to hurt me. I didn't understand where the idea came from, or why he would ever want to make me feel like this. Trapped. Claustrophobic. A victim. Even to this day, right now, as I stood beneath the shower and allowed the water to burn holes into my back, I couldn't understand why he wanted me to feel like that.

My mind rushed back towards my best friend. Max Verstappen; the one person I could trust no matter what, somebody who I could rely on even after an argument. Max loved me, and I adored Max. When he told me about how he felt about me, I never expected it. I was shocked, because he hid it so well. I could never have guessed that he was as in love with me as he explained. I couldn't believe it, because falling in love with Charles, even though it was the best decision I'd ever made, it helped me realise just how much I adored Max whilst growing up. When he kissed me for the first time, after I asked him to show me how it felt to be kissed by someone who really cared, I was surprised. I didn't expect him to succumb to my wishes, but he did, because Max was willing to give me anything. If it was going to make me happy, Max would give it to me. I regretted every word I'd said to him last night whilst in my drunken state. I loved him, and I needed him, because everything would be so different without him.