~One True Love~ Charles Leclerc F1

~Part 6~ Tipsy and Bewildered

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                       Y/n

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4 hours before the party

As we got to our room, Hannah was still buzzing with excitement but also visibly exhausted. She tossed all the packages onto the couch and practically flopped onto the bed, like a deflating balloon.
She was worn out from both the shopping spree and the race.
Her eyes widened, she quickly got up and sat straight, looking at me with a mischievous grin.
She snatched the small package from the couch and made her way towards me.
With a sly grin, she extended her hand, offering the package to me.
Uh-oh I fucked up. How did i actually believe that Hannah gave up? I'd sooner believe dinosaurs came back from the dead than think Hannah actually gave up.
I was stupid.
Now that I had no other option, I took the package and opened it. There it was, the dress I had been eyeing, the one I couldn't afford. I couldn't help but smile widely at Hannah and give her a hug.
I don't deserve her

"Are you excited, Y/n?" Hannah asked, and I practically felt as nervous as ever. "Is that even a question, Hannah?" I replied, struggling to get my voice out. "Seriously, I'm so, so, so excited, and you look so beautiful" I said genuinely. She is the most beautiful woman I've ever met after my mom.
"As if you don't. You're looking exactly like a raccoon," she teased, then glanced at me with a mischievous look and continued, "You are fucking hot bitch" she said.
I chuckled at her comment, and then we gathered our essentials before leaving our room: phone - check, a chic bag devoid of cash - check, and a hairclip because free hair is just overrated and annoying (at times all we need is a bun)- check.

As we strolled towards the street, Hannah's dad awaited us, leaning casually against his car. Beside him stood another figure,
an old man with spectates who is lost in his thoughts.
My pulse quickened at the sight, and I shot a glance at Hannah, silently seeking reassurance. "What's up?" She asked.
"He's got a striking resemblance to my "so called dad" I murmured. Hannah, ever the voice of reason, quipped, "If he's a dead ringer for your dad, then rest assured, he's not your pops. You are practically blind y/n and you won't wear your glasses, besides that is binotto the principal of ferrari, I don't know what he is doing here though". I relaxed a bit and responded, "Well, you can't blame me. He left years ago, Hannah." She added with no hint of sarcasm, "As he should, or else I would've kicked his ass myself".

Hannah's dad grinned as we approached him and he introduced us to Mr.Binotto beside him. "This is Binotto," he announced "and he has a deal that you might be interested in"

Hannah and I exchanged bewildered glances, silently asking each other, "What the hell?"
As we fastened our seatbelts Mr.Spectacles started talking. "So the deal is that you guys have to fake date the ferrari drivers"
As Mr. Spectacles dropped the bombshell about fake dating the Ferrari drivers, I swear I could hear the sound of reality crumbling around me. I felt like I was starring in my very own rom-com, except without the charm or the happy ending because it's not a FUCKING BOOK WITH FICTIONAL CHARACTERS BUT OUR LIFE. The idea of pretending to be someone's significant other was about as appealing as a root canal without anesthesia, but hey, when life hands you lemons, right?

I shot back with the most pressing question on my mind: "Are they even cool with this?" Mr. Spectacles assured me that Carlos was on board, but Charles—not so much. Great, just great. I could already feel the awkwardness creeping in like an unwanted houseguest.

But before I could protest any further, Hannah jumped in with her trademark enthusiasm, practically frothing at the mouth with excitement. "Are you kidding me? This is like something straight out of a movie!" she exclaimed, eyes sparkling with mischief. Leave it to Hannah to treat trouble like a long-lost friend.

Meanwhile, I was still trying to wrap my head around the whole situation. "What's in it for us?" I demanded, cutting through the excitement like a hot knife through butter. Mr. Spectacles looked taken aback, clearly not expecting such a blunt response. But Hannah, never one to mince words, shot back with, "We get to fake date them, duh!"

But I wasn't about to let this opportunity slip through my fingers without a fight. "Give me something more concrete," I pressed, refusing to back down. And that's when Mr. Spectacles dropped the bomb: "You could be their PAs for two months, complete with a certificate. Think of it as an investment in your future."

Well, well, well, now we're talking. I needed money so badly for my mom's surgery anyways and I wasn't about to depend on someone else for it. This way I could actually do something for my mom.Suddenly, the prospect of being someone's fake date didn't seem so bad, especially if it came with a certificate and the promise of a brighter future. I exchanged a knowing glance with Hannah, and without a word, we both nodded in agreement. Looks like we were in this together, for better or for worse.
Let the games begin.