self explanatory.
All the parts for each driver follow a plot. If you want just one shots, check out my other book called 'F1 one shots'
I'll take any requests. let me know what you think😁😁
#1 in drivers, August 29
The man who orchestrated this all walks up to me. He smiles. I smile back. "Thank you for all this." I say, motioninto to the fr "Why dont I take you for a cup of tea?" He asks me. "My treat." He said. I grab my guitar and follow him to his car. Man, he must be rich.(honestly, I have no idea what car he drives. I couldnt find it. I assume its expensive and fancy. If anyone knows, please tell me!) I place my guitar in the trunk and he closes it.
"This is going to be weird." I say. "I look like I came from the 50s and you look too good to be true. I say. I cover my mouth with my hands as I realize I said that out loud.
"Dont worry. I've always loved the 50s look and come prepared. He said. He reached in the car and took out some tall white socks, a white t shirt and black shoes. He took off his shirt with his back facing me, and put on the white tshirt. He rolled up the sleeves on it, and changed into his white socks and black shoes. He opened the trunk and pulled out a black leather jacket.
"All better?"he asks.
"Definetly." I say as I laugh softly.
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The wind picks up slightly. It's probably going to rain soon. The man can tell I'm getting cold and wraps his leather jacket around me. I look at him and smile. Hes such a sweet guy.
But I cant be into him. Hes rich. So if I like him, he'll think its cause of my money problems. And why would he like me? I'd be like a money vacuum.
We go to a small cafe and drink our tea. We both ordered the same rhing. Extra large orange pekoe, one cream.
We sit sipping our tea for a long time. We chatted. He seems like a super nice guy.
"Thank you again for everything." I say. I'm holding the mug my tea came in with my right hand, and my left hand is resting on the table. His leather jacket is still draped over my shoulders.
The man puts his hand on mine and looks me in my eyes. As he touched my hand, it sent chills down my spine.
"Its no problem. You needed a pick me up. I'm just glad I found you when I did, and I'm glad I could help." He said.
"I really want to know the name of the man who organized this whole thing." I say. "Please?"
"Fine. George. George Russell."
"Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N." I say. "Oh my gosh that makes so much sense. You're the Formula 1 driver!" I say practicality shouting.
"Shh." He says. "I don't want fans or media finding me. Thays why I didnt tell you my name at the begining. I thought you would just turn into one of the fans."
"I could never. You litteraly saved me. I was broke, and well now I'm not." I say as I smile.
"My pleasure. I got to sit and watch a beautiful girl smile all day as she performed with Paul McCartney. I was honoured to have watched it and even more honoured to have coordinated it." He said.
He called me beautiful.
"I'm sorry. We just met and I called you beautiful." He said apologetically.
"Oh no, it's okay." I say
"Well I know we just met and you just broke up, but maybe we could go out some time? If not I understand."
"I'd love to. You think I'm doing this for your money, dont you?" I say.
"NO! Of course not! No no no." He said.
"Okay good. Because I intend to not use a cent of your money. I plan to pull my own weight." I say.
It starts to rain.
"Come on. Let's head back to the car." George said. We leave our empty mugs on the patio table, and head back to his fancy car. By the time we get to it, were soaked, but love it.
