𝙾𝚛𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚛𝚢┃ Charles Leclerc┃

Chapter Fourteen - The Gala

"Dad, which colour do you think? The black, or the red?" I was holding up two dresses in front of my phone, which was hosting a FaceTime call with my father. "Now remember, this is the FIA gala we're talking about. Posh do. Must look my best."

Through the screen, my dad was squinting his eyes (despite his glasses being on his head) to really gage which dress he preferred.

"I think I'm leaning towards the red." He said. "But let me get my little fashion expert in and see what she thinks."

Into the frame bounded Evie. She had a cherubic face framed by silky locks that bounced with every step. Her eyes, like deep pools of wonder, shined with curiosity, and her button nose crinkled when she giggled. Dressed in vibrant colours or maybe a playful dress, she was a picture of innocence and charm.

"Evie, sweetheart, which dress do you like better? I want to look as much like a princess as I possibly can, so choose wisely." I smiled at my little sister through the screen, watching her lips scrunch to one side as she looked between the two outfits.

She tapped her finger against her chin as though she was truly pondering, but very quickly came to a (loud) conclusion. "The red one! Princesses don't wear black. They're colourful!"

My dad held up his palm as he faced her, receiving a swift high five from his youngest daughter. "See, I knew I was right!" He said. "What Evie says goes, Ana. Red it is. Have a great time tonight, and we'll see you in Australia."

I smiled sweetly. The Australian Grand Prix was to take place during Evie's Easter school holidays, meaning that she and my dad were going to be coming to watch my race in person.

"See you guys soon! Love you always."

The familiar beep that signalled the end of the call vibrated through my hand, and I threw my phone down on the bed.

Operation "Get Ready" began.

The anticipation hummed in the air as I stood in front of the mirror, the reflection showing the culmination of months of hard work and dedication—the FIA gala awaited. The sleek red gown draped elegantly, an ensemble befitting the prestigious evening ahead.

The excitement was palpable, a buzz that transcended the confines of my suite. The gala, a celebration of the sport's excellence, was a night where the racing fraternity donned their finest attire to honor the achievements of the season.

As I meticulously perfected each detail—hair styled to perfection, makeup highlighting a sense of understated glamour—a sense of pride welled within. This evening wasn't just about the shimmering gowns or tailored suits; it was about commemorating the collective spirit, the relentless pursuit of excellence that defined Formula 1.

The sleek purr of the limousine glided through the city streets, the anticipation of the FIA gala simmering within. Seated between my manager and my teammate, the atmosphere buzzed with excitement, laughter, and an undercurrent of nervous energy.

Lando's infectious energy filled the space, his enthusiasm contagious as he animatedly recounted moments from the season so far. His jokes and anecdotes were a welcome distraction, easing the anticipation of the prestigious evening ahead.

Through the tinted windows, the city lights blurred into a kaleidoscope of colors, a fitting backdrop to our journey towards the night's festivities. Amidst the chatter and camaraderie, I stole glances at my reflection in the window, ensuring every detail of my attire was impeccable for the gala.

Mel, always the voice of reason and support, offered reassuring words, calming any last-minute nerves. Her presence was a constant reminder of the unwavering support that fueled my journey in the world of Formula 1.