PR Disaster - Charles Leclerc

18

Miami felt like an in an out. Maybe it was because I was too excited for the start of this year's first triple header, starting at the Emilia Romagna Grand Prix. I have been to
triple headers before, some with mom when I was younger, and the last three years with Mclaren while I was still studying in the UK. However, I was never working full time at Mclaren, there would always be races that I couldn't attend due to my studies. Now that I have graduated, I am able to do what I love doing full time. But honestly, it was exhausting, flying from one place to another. I'd be back in São Paulo for a little bit more than a week to see mom, then fly out to Maranello or straight to the destination country, for instance Miami. I flew two days earlier for the Miami Grand Prix as I was meeting up with Lissie first on Tuesday. She always preps on Wednesdays for the weekend ahead. The last time I saw her was at Azerbaijan, seeing her was a long time coming. Lando was open to the idea of flying out early with us, but he stepped back, wanting to give us some girl time.

"You two together?" Lando asked rhetorically on facetime, "I'd rather not be there."

I bursted into laughter, "Surely we're not that bad."

"No, you two are the worst." He joked, "But have fun! Enjoy your day with Lissie before I steal her away. Don't start hating me like how you did Charles."

"Oh fuck off! I was a kid!" I defended, giving Lando the finger. As I had gotten to know Charles more, it made me come to terms with myself that I probably disliked Charles when I was younger was because of my anxiety. Lando was always the bigger brother, on and off the track. We grew up together. Having Lando's company was my comfort zone, and when that was taken away, I panicked. It was a fight-flight-freeze response. Charles was one of the first kid to talk to Lando when I was attending his karting races, and the first kid to walk off with Lando somewhere, most likely briefings, that I remembered and that turned to a form of understanding for me when I was younger that Charles was the person who kept stealing Lando away, which then grew to me disliking him as we all grew up. I remember the times when Charles would try to talk to me. My earliest memory of Charles was him coming up to Lando and I who just arrived at the track. I must've just been six or seven, still karting in the category below them.

"Hi Lando! Cisca and Adam!" Charles greeted, walking towards us, "Is this you're sister? I'm Charles!"

"Hey Charles! She's a family friend, but is pretty much my sister." Lando replied, "Soleil, this is Charles. Charles, this is Soleil."

Mom couldn't come this time as she had to fly back home for her job. I didn't want to go back home at the time and aunt Cisca offered me to stay with them until mom gets back the UK.

"Hello." I quipped, not saying another word.

"Well, the drivers briefing is about to start. We should go." Charles prompted and Lando nodded in response, "Bye Soleil! It was nice meeting you!"

"Good luck, Lan." I said and they walked off.

"Say hi to Lissie for me will you?" Lando asked.

"I'll tell her that you said she's the worst."

"I did not!"

"You literally just did!"

Miami was a good race, though. Max won the race, with Charles and Carlos P2 and P3, meaning that we were still leading the championship. I wasn't feeling that well by the end of the race and decided to just stay at the hotel, living vicariously through everyone else's social media stories of the after party. I got a text from Charles just before everyone was about to leave, asking where I was. When he realized that I was skipping this one, he came up to my room. He was wearing a black oversized t-shirt, black pants with white details and his white oversized sneakers. I could smell his perfume the moment I opened the door, not that I was complaining.