Lights Out • 1 • Formula One ✔️

Chapter 114

half an hour early to apologise. remember that death i teased ages ago? tissue warning for later on

I flew back to the UK that night after the race with Kudzai. After such an agonising debrief where several members were pointing the blame for the almost crash between Esteban and I, I wanted nothing more than to head home and clear my head for a few days before the final race of the season. Whilst it crossed my mind that the incident could've just been another potential sabotage, I had to reassure myself that Lawrence wasn't even here this weekend, nor will he be next weekend either. The talk Esteban and I had privately seemed to go alright. Because I was just generally annoyed and not specifically at him individually, I didn't need much convincing on his behalf that he really couldn't see me. Drivers are reliant on mirrors and we can't turn our heads as readily as we would like. It was unfortunate that I caught him when I did, and that we both moved to avoid each other in the same direction.

It was just going to be Kudzai, me, Damien, and Marcus for a couple of days. Esteban was visiting his parents in France and then would meet us in Abu Dhabi when he flies with them. Charles had offered to stay with me but I told him that he should probably head home to see his folks in Monaco. He also needed to prepare his speeches and outfit for Pierre and Cate's wedding that was due to take place the Thursday after the final race, after all of the testing had been completed. It was all very exciting for them and couldn't be more happy that their lives seemed to fall into place.

The time zone difference and long flight really shook up my sleeping schedule. Luckily, Marcus and Damien had a messed up schedule from Netflix binging so they were able to sit up with me into the early hours of the morning whilst Kudzai slept. That woman could sleep for England ever since she became pregnant.

"No way!" I exclaimed in laughter, tightening the grip on my mug of tea to stop any of it from spilling. It was currently some early hour in the morning and Damien and I were squeezed onto Marcus's bed (he still couldn't move normally due to some swelling on his brain which impacts his motor abilities). Whilst Queer Eye reruns played in the background, we were catching each other up on the events that happened when we had been apart.

"I swear it's true," Damien managed to get out through his laugh. "I full on back-handed this old man's toupee of his head and then screamed in the middle of a fucking supermarket!" The hand movements and over-exaggerated facial expressions sent me. I was clutching tightly onto M's arm for support to stop me falling off the bed from laughing too hard.

Marcus wiped away a tear that was forming under his eye. "I would've killed to see that."

"I'm mortified! I can't go into that Tesco ever a-fucking-gain."

"That poor man." My chest was hurting from the sheer intensity of my laughter and I hoped that we didn't wake Kudzai up. Because of the difference in area and era that M's house was built compared to my apartment, his walls were significantly thinner and not as insulating.

"Poor man? Poor me!" Damien cried. "That's the closest shop to us and now I'm going have to travel an extra five minutes just to buy some eggs."

"Shouldn't have smacked his toupee then," Marcus said through a laugh.

"Aww," I finally managed to get out once out laughter had calmed down. "I've missed you guys."

"It's quiet whenever you're away," Marcus commented. "D isn't as boisterous as he usually is."

"Yeah, whatever that means," Damien agreed, reaching over to take my hand in his. "It's going to suck when you're on the Mercedes schedule. Kudzai sent over a plan since I'm still running A's socials and it's already double what I'm doing now."