Re-evaluating Strategies

🇨🇳SHANGHAI

Charles
Shanghai, China

The Chinese Grand Prix has always been a favourite of mine, however coming fourth in qualifying yesterday, then letting Max through in a stupid mistake in today's race, has left me feeling otherwise. It's fair to say I was pretty agitated after leaving the car, knowing that I had let my long term rival, Verstappen, get past me. This emotion being further magnified when I glimpse Abella congratulating Max straight after the race, in front of our own team hospitality. I had to refrain from physically going out there and pulling them apart, the whole ordeal becoming far too mushy for me to watch without feeling the urge to throw up. Instead I leave the building, out of the back entrance, to visit a few television journalists which Silvia has informed me I am scheduled to meet. Walking towards them, they instantly shove a microphone and a camera in my face and begin asking questions, in French, which at least means I don't need to worry about getting my translations correct.

The woman questioning me, gets really close up to me, pushing her face towards mine with an inquisitive look as she fires out questions like an interrogation, rather than an interview.

'So Charles how has your weekend been? As bad it looks?'

'Does it bother you that Max managed to snatch your desired position?'

'How do Ferrari feel about your performance today?'

'Do you think the season will improve for you?'

'We are yet to see you on the podium as we expected'

'Would your late father be proud of your drive today?'
After answering the last question, I can't take it anymore but I try and keep my composure, excusing myself and politely thanking the nosy journalist.

Rushing away from the unwanted company I take a deep breath, keeping my cool, before turning the corner. My stride is broken when a hand grips my shoulder and I feel my body tense, turning around to face the person holding me in place, Pierre.
'Hey man, you okay?' He asks, clearly knowing the answer. He's always had the ability to read me like an open book.

'Yeah' I sigh, 'Just some of these interviews stress me out you know?'

'I get it, some of these journalists overstep the lines too much' he says walking through the paddocks with me, arm slung around my shoulder, smiling cheerfully at the photographers that point their cameras our way. 'Why don't you come to my hotel room tonight and let off some steam, play some games, just relax together?'

'Sure what time?' My mood lightens quickly, Pierre always knowing how to lift my spirits, it being a big contributor to our lengthy friendship. He's been my friend since I first stepped into karting competitions, consistently being the one guy on the track I knew I could rely on for anything. When we were about half our age now, we used to have this secret handshake that we would perform before every race because we thought it gave us luck. As we grew older we had stopped because it was against our cool personas that we were so desperate to show to everyone. Looking back on it now, it must have held some luck to lead us to both be standing in Formula One today, something we only dreamed of at that age.

'How's seven o'clock?'

'Great' I confirm, fist bumping as we go our separate ways.

Hours later, once I've finished all my duties for the day, I reach my hotel and swiftly change out of my red uniform, into a comfier black crew neck sweatshirt and a pair of black ripped jeans. Quickly I fix my hair, exiting back out of the door, on my way to Pierre's room. When I reach the right room, I tap on the door and stand back, waiting for Pierre to open up. He calls from the room to open the unlocked door for myself, as he is still getting dressed and I do so, making myself comfortable on the oversized sofa. After finishing the task of dressing himself, he comes to join me, slouching into the couch similarly to myself.

Together we wire up his PS4 to the tv and start a game of Call of Duty, shouting to each other at the top of our lungs, the loud tv overpowering any other sounds. When the game ends with us losing, we hear a thud at the door and I glance to Pierre confused. He says nothing, jumping from his position to open the door. I move my head, straining my eyes to see who he is animatedly talking to, but his frame is in the way. When Pierre moves away from the door, and I see the familiar brown eyed girl saunter towards me, plopping herself down next to me with a huff while Pierre pours us all a drink.

'Hey, I didn't expect to see you here' I tell Abella, still slightly surprised by her entrance as I was unaware she was due to make an appearance.

'Same goes for you, except I didn't expect to be waiting outside the door for so long, but Pierre invited me earlier' she shrugs like it's no big deal, nestling down into the blanket that was previously on the floor, grabbing a controller.

Re entering the room, drinks in hand, Pierre says, 'Yea sorry again, we couldn't hear you knocking over the tv, but I thought this would be a nice idea. Just like old times'.

10 years ago

After every karting competition, we always meet at the end of the day and play video games on my games console to relax, and have time to ourselves outside of the track. Today won't be any different as we carry on our tradition, me and Pierre are at Abella's house, setting up Tom's new console that he got for his birthday the other week. I watch Abella's eyes light up when she sees Tom pull out the Mario Kart CD and place it in the disk socket, the machine whirring to life as it loads. Tom tells us to get into two teams and I look expectantly to Abella, but Pierre has already pulled her into his side, them giggling together. My heart feels heavy and disappointment washes over me, I wanted her on my team, she is the best at Mario Kart after all. There is not a chance that me and Tom are ever going to win against the pair, that's what really irritates me, not that they are together while I'm stuck with Tom.

After the first race, Princess Peach, Abella's character and Yoshi, which belongs to Pierre, are the first two karts to cross the line placing them in the top spots on the leader board. While I let out a groan in losing frustration, Pierre and Abella hug each other, jumping around in a joyful frenzy, celebrating their victory. Abella notices my glum expression from behind Pierre and mouths a 'sorry' towards me, accompanied by an apologetic smile. On seeing her smile, my icy emotions thaw away, and I no longer feel spiteful, instead feeling happy for them and enjoying the sound of their laughter. Inevitably, they win the rest of the races by a mile and Tom isn't overly thrilled with his eighth place finish, but I feel light and elated, my small moment with Abella having a lasting effect leaving me with a permanent smirk across my face.

Present day

The corners of her mouth turning up still have the same effect on me, when she looks over to me with crinkled eyes and a scrunched nose, pure joy radiating from her while we make eye contact. As usual, my whole body warms and I can feel my heart swell. I catch Pierre eyeing me with a raised eyebrow and a cheeky grin, I roll my eyes and give him a middle finger while Abella's distracted. He starts howling when I silently plead him to stop giving me mock gooey eyes, and I push myself back into the sofa, focusing my attention on my phone to distract from my burning cheeks.

Hey guys, sorry this took so long to upload as it's been a bit hectic with Christmas quite literally around the corner. Regardless I hope you enjoy another Charles POV and please vote and comment any suggestions if you like! Happy reading everyone :))