Here With Me - A Formula 1 Story

Golden

That first day with Jeremy, Morgan and Bianca was just what I needed to get acquainted with both them and San Diego. It turned out to be an amazing day with absolutely amazing people. The girls helped me curate what they called the perfect post for Instagram which caught lots of traction due to the fact that I tagged San Diego as my location and now everyone is now realizing I'm no longer in Europe, no longer near Charles. I've been getting messages non stop from people and I'm avoiding them, because I'm not quite ready to read what they could possibly be saying to me. Charles himself liked it but didn't comment. I did get a text from him though asking who the guy was. 

Thinking back on that conversation makes me cringe. I had just posted it, it was around 11:30pm when I did and I was a little tipsy. About twenty minutes after I posted it, I was getting ready for bed when Charles texted me. I quickly do the math and it's around 8:30am in Italy. Furrowing my brows, I opened the text and instantly sobered up.

            Charles: Who is the guy, mon soleil?
            Me: What guy?
            Charles: Don't play dumb, I'm not in the mood.
            Charles: The guy in your IG post. Who is he?
            Charles: Are you already with someone else?
            Me: No, I'm not.
            Me: I can't believe you actually just asked me that right now.
            Me: He's my new boss.
            Charles: Your boss?
            Me: Yes...my boss. Not that it's any of your business.
            Charles: It is my business.
            Charles: When my girl is posting with another man, it's definitely my fucking business.
            Me: I'm not your girl, Charles.
            Charles: You need to stop saying that.
            Charles: We belong together.
            Me: No. We don't.
            Charles: Please don't say that mon soleil.
            Charles: I'm sorry.
            Charles: Fuck, I'm so sorry Lydia.
            Charles: I just saw you with him, and I went fucking crazy.
            Charles: I miss you.
            Charles: So fucking much.

I stared at the texts for what felt like hours, but didn't respond. I didn't trusting myself to not confess that I miss him too, desperately. I'm still not sure how I feel about that conversation, and I haven't talked to him since that night. It's now Thursday and I'm sure he's extremely busy getting prepared for Monza this weekend. And I'm extremely busy preparing for our flight to Paris tonight. We're taking a red eye and I still have yet to pack so that's what I'm currently doing.

On top of packing, I'm also doing daily tasks for Jeremy; like making sure he's making all of his meetings, as well as getting fed and properly nourished. He also still needs to pack, which I offered to do for him but he declined. Saying something about not wanting me to touch his underwear, which made me laugh since technically I already do since I've been doing both of our laundry since I've been here. But whatever, one less thing for me to do. I also need to run to Target and the mall to grab a few things before tonight. I'm also periodically checking in on the formula 1 media panels to see if anything interesting happens.

I'm currently sitting in the middle of my bed with my phone in my hands watching a clip of Charles in his media session. A journalist just asked him how he's faring without his PR team ever since their split from one another and what was the reason for the split. My stomach does something funny as I wait for Charles response. I'm not sure why I'm anxious and nervous for him but I am.

"I can't say much, but I will just say that there was a series of events that caused me to lose trust in them. I came to the conclusion that I no longer could work with them and decided to end my relations with them. I'm currently in the process of finding another PR team whose thoughts align with my own." He tells the journalist, who then follows up with another question.