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" ...never have i been so glad to have lost a bet in my entire life. "
━━ 4 years later ━━
THERE WAS NO DENYING THAT Charles Leclerc and Andie Renaldi's fates were forever intertwined. For the moment they met was the moment the trajectory of their lives changed, for better and worse. In each other they grew to have found both their greatest love and their fiercest competition.
They've been tried and tested, dragged through the mud, and suffered great losses and frustrations. Yet, their feet remained firm on the ground, persevering. And through that perseverance, they were still here after all this time.
Things were different but they were never more in place.
"Three minutes left in FP2. Repeat, three minutes left in FP2."
Charles responded immediately but very relaxed, "Positions please."
"P1 Renaldi. You are P2. P3—"
"Actually, that's all I needed to hear." Charles cut Xavi off, "I have time to push, yes?"
"Affirmative."
It was time to be petty as hell.
"Copy."
Charles turned off his radio and began a hot lap, zooming past the back-markers to attempt to set the best time for the practice session. It was no surprise that as soon as the clock started running, all you could see on screen were those beautiful purple sectors. Charles didn't even have to break a single sweat.
A fitting display of prowess for the reigning world champion.
"You are currently P1, Charles. Great job."
"Grazie mille." Charles gloated, already anticipating a mini outburst from a certain someone later.
After a little while, he was instructed to head back to the pits so they could run some diagnostics on the car. As soon as he was backed up in the garage, Charles propped himself up on his halo and exited the car. On the side of his garage, he took off his helmet, his balaclava, and his earpieces with a gratified smile on his face. He knew he did good.
With the free practice session coming to a close, he held onto that P1 with Andie in P2 and with George in P3. Just another day on track.
Charles started chatting up his engineers when unbeknownst to him, someone was marching over to his garage with an earful ready for him.
