«My fate is at the hand of my mistakes and that's alright. My fate is in your hand without you even trying.»
---
Her just once with Charles, unsurprisingly and very predictably, turned into more than just once. Sloane found herself waking up in Monaco more times than she'd initially planned because it was supposed to be simply a hook-up, but she was definitely not complaining about it. Not when she had his arm draped around her waist, his face nestled in the crook of her neck while they slept peacefully. The more nights they spent together and mornings waking up with each other, the more Sloane realised he held onto her like she would be gone, which she was not planning on doing any time soon.
He'd managed to wedge into her life and it was a pleasant surprise for her. Sadly, her momentary bliss with Charles came hand in hand with the beginning of her manager's worst nightmare because Sloane was getting distracted.
And what better example of that than Monaco?
She complained with a quiet groan when the constant buzzing of a phone resounded somewhere in the room. Trying not to disturb Charles, she extended her arm to confirm whether the noise belonged to her side or his. Sloane patted the bedside table several times until a vibrant sensation brushed her palm. There it is. It was indeed her phone.
Reluctantly, she opened her eyes, just to close one a second later to avoid the light from burning her corneas. It took a lot of strength to force herself into taking a proper look at the screen, but when she did, she wished she hadn't.
Vivianne is calling.
Oh, fuck. Her manager hadn't called just once, but several times and when she managed to fully snap her eyes open, she got why it'd been that way. Her focus went from the missing call notification to the date displayed above the current time on the screen, realising why all the insistency.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
With as much care as she could, she attempted to remove Charles' arm from her. He heavily sighed when her hand made contact with his arm, but instead of waking up, his eyes remained closed, even cuddling her pillow when she accomplished to free herself and get out of bed. Her lips curved into a smile and her heart felt swollen from the image before her.
Happiness did not last forever though and when another round of buzzing went off into her hand, Sloane jolted, the panic rising up her throat. She tiptoed her way out of the room and silently closed the door behind her, then she took a very deep breath before sliding her finger across the screen to answer the call. Think fast. And smart.
"Sloane, where are you?" No hello or how are you. Vivianne's voice sounded more stern than concerned. There were different voices coming from the background as well, which only meant she was still at the studio.
Fuck. "Vivianne," She forced a cough out, pretending to be sick. Her throat was dry and it did not receive that well. "I'm sorry, I woke up feeling very sick. I don't think I can make it today." Alright, not very smart of her. She'd lied better before.
Growing up with her mother had served to train her in being a somewhat good liar...not that she was putting that into practice at the moment, it seemed.
The silence on the other side prolonged for a bit too long. Not a good sign. "Out of curiosity..." Her manager left the words in the air for a second. Suspense, she loved that. "Did you wake up feeling sick in Monaco again?" She started peeling the skin off her lips, the metallic taste of blood rolling on her tongue. Shit. "Have you even bothered to check the time?" No, because she'd been too busy snoozing next to Charles all morning. Sweet dreams and cuddles included. "You're lucky Eleonora was around and could replace you, otherwise, they would've had to call the off shoot. You know the rule: with no model, there's no shoot. Sloane," Vivianne sighed. "What happened? This is your second slip this week, and I'm getting worried. You've never been like this."
Second as in her first one had been asking to postpone a fitting so she could attend the Monaco Grand Prix because it's his home race, she'd told Vivianne almost whining over the phone a few days ago. The first rule of working with someone like Vivianne was simple: full responsibility. If the woman got her the jobs, she took advantage of them by not wasting her potential. Now she was breaking that rule not once but twice.
Fuck.
"I'm sorry. I don't—I don't really know what to say. My head's somewhere else and I truly apologise for this." The words weighted with sincerity. "It won't happen again, I promise."
"I won't reprimand you for this, that's not how things work, but I don't want to think this will be a continuous thing from now on." She paused. She was using the tone. The one that denoted a hint of exhaustion and severity. "Sloane, you're doing well, and I'd hate to think you might backtrack over distractions."
Her brows furrowed a little at that. Two slips wouldn't stall her career. There was nothing to worry about.
She blinked. "I really mean it when I say it won't happen again. It was a mistake on my part, and I take full responsibility for it, but I swear I'll be more attentive with all this from now on. You don't have to fret."
"I'm not fretting, Sloane. And I trust you, but please sync your calendar. That'd be appreciated."
"I'm sorry."
Vivianne asked for her to stop apologising, what was done was done. Nevertheless, there were more sorries from Sloane, which in the end, her manager accepted. She promised to set reminders for the schedules Vivianne always sent over email, and added more apologies and regrets just in case. Vivianne insisted it was fine — although she had a hunch it wasn't — and told her to take care of herself and greet Charles for her. Sloane hesitated for a few seconds before saying she would and thanked her again for being so understanding.
While they bid their farewells, she made sure to sneak one more sorry in there before they hung up. When she opened the door to head back into the room, Charles was awake, resting his weight on one arm and checking his phone. He flickered his focus at the sound of the door and smiled brightly noticing her.
It did fade rather quickly due to her troubled expression.
"Is everything alright?" He sat straight on the bed, the sheets pooling around his waist. He extended a hand and beckoned her closer to him.
Sloane dragged herself towards the bed, grabbing his hand and sitting on the space where she'd been sleeping. Her face twisted into a grimace, huffing. "I fucked up. Or I didn't but I did. I," Charles tilted his head, analysing. "I had a shoot today but missed it, and Vivianne sounded awfully disappointed. This is the first time something like this happens, and I—ugh, I should've set a reminder or something. I don't know."
He squeezed her hand in reassurance, the other one reaching to stroke the skin of her leg with circular motions. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked you to go out yesterday."
"No, come on. It's not on you." She softly smiled and reached to touch his face. The stubble felt funny. "I have to be more organised and get my head out of my arse. I've been too distracted lately."
"I tell you what," He lifted their hands and placed a kiss on the back of her hand. "We'll set the reminders together, so if you forget, I'll refresh your memory." Charles offered with one of those charming smiles of his. "No more problems with Vivianne."
Something fluttered inside of her. Feelings turned into butterflies. "You're too cute, god, but seriously don't worry. I'll sort myself with this, I can be more organised." She put on her best-committed expression. He chuckled, the adoration pouring through his gaze. "Vivianne told me to greet you."
"I think she secretly approves of me," He teased. They hadn't met in person yet, but by now he understood the importance Vivianne had in her life. Beyond schedules and other aspects. He could only assume the importance went the other way around too. "Let me cook you some breakfast. Maybe that'll make you feel better."
He let go of her hand and crawled out of bed, the sheets slipping from him like silk. Sloane pretended to shut her eyes closed, opening one a second later and looking him up and down. "Put some clothes on, exhibitionist." She joked, tossing a pillow in his direction.
Charles chuckled, catching the pillow in his hands and winked. As unsuccessfully as ever. "Nothing you haven't seen, come on."
He did end up putting some clothes on, and they made their way to the kitchen with Sloane hugging him from behind, chin resting on his shoulder. Charles placed her hands on his chest, smiling and trying to get her to kiss him once. She could feel his heart beating under her hands. Hers was most likely beating just as heavily. They let go of each other in the kitchen, and whilst he assorted himself around, she sat on one of the stools, following his every move and smiling dazzled at the scene.
"I could get used to this view." She raised her eyebrows.
Charles turned around, finding her with her chin resting on her hand and staring at his whole frame. He wandered closer to the counter, mirroring her position, eyes locking with hers. Sloane smiled, and he still didn't understand how someone could cause so many emotions in so little time.
"That's good because I'm getting used to this view. It's the best view."
When he propped himself against the counter to kiss her, she had no problem accepting the gesture. She did have to push him away with a hand so he had to go back to the other side of the room to continue the cooking. Everything about it and him made her feel giddy, and the kind of happiness she hadn't experienced in a while.
Someday, maybe, she'd thank Pierre for inviting Aurora to the club that day. If she felt nice enough to do it.
Their dynamic was becoming domestic, he reckoned. What with the way he was cooking for her while she went through a few channels on the TV like they'd been doing that for years and not a few weeks. Sloane stopped her channel surfing when she found a football match streaming on a sports channel. Her eyebrows raised at the scene of two players nose to nose, clearly about to get into a fight.
Of course, she had to take the opportunity. "See, I'm enjoying racing, but this is the kind of entertainment I only get with football." She gestured at the screen with the remote, and he took a quick glance to understand what she meant.
The football players were still quarrelling. "If you want something like that you should see Max when he gets upset," Charles said with a funny tone, then thought about it more. "Unless you find that attractive...then you shouldn't pay attention to him at all."
"Charles," She scoffed. As if. "I didn't say attractive, I said entertaining. Two different things." She even lifted a finger, like that would make the intentions clearer.
"Alright," He looked at her, and she pointed at him to focus on the chopping or he would cut his finger. He did as indicated. "That means I won't have to get into fights." His innocent demeanour and smile were very appealing to her.
She shook her head. "Never get into a fight, I don't want to see you getting knocked out with a helmet or something."
"Oh, but that means you would have to nurse me." He met her gaze, brows slightly lifted in what she guessed was an insinuating manner. "And I wouldn't complain about that."
She cocked her head to the side, biting the inside of her cheek to avoid a full grin from forming. "I can picture a similar scenario happening but you wouldn't have to go through such a violent faith. Far better, don't you think?"
His imagination was running wild with that suggestion, he wouldn't deny it. "Tell me more, I'm interested."
"You're lucky you're cute."
After a few more minutes of cooking, or attempting to, he presented in front of her a plate of what he called 'Italian breakfast'. Charles remembered she'd mentioned something about Italian food being her favourite, and whilst he did not possess the culinary expertise to live up to those expectations, he'd been willing to try one of the recipes he'd gotten from his dietician. Anything to impress, really.
Her eyes gleamed when he set the food down before her.
"It might not be as good as what you can get from your best friend and her family, so bear with me." He joked, sliding the plate closer to her side on the kitchen island.
Sloane talked a lot about Aurora, he'd noticed, and most of the time she did it unintentionally because she insisted on wanting to keep her friend away from whatever was going on between them. However, that didn't stop her from mentioning her friend's name from time to time. It was hard not to catch it.
He'd heard more about Aurora than anyone else in her life. With the exception of Vivianne, of course.
At that point, he was starting to think the girl was an angel sent, with all the compliments Sloane threw around. And well, technically Aurora's friendship with Pierre had been the reason he met Sloane in the first place, so to some extent: thank you Aurora. If she ever decided to stop viewing him as a threat to her job, perhaps he could thank her in person.
"You can add Italian breakfast to your list of talents." She gave him a thumbs up, covering her mouth with a hand.
He proudly beamed, resting his arms on the counter and looking at her with endearment. "Some talents are reserved for you only." She giggled. The guy had her giggling. God. "I'm..." He gave her a soft laugh, feeling a bit embarrassed about what he would say. "I'm very happy you're here in Monaco with me, and that you'll be at the race this weekend."
Someone could've been squeezing her heart into painful happiness and she'd be okay with it. She'd forgotten about Vivianne being disappointed. About having to delay a fitting to be there. About missing her photoshoot earlier. Sometimes the heart was right, other times wrong. Whatever it was...it felt worthy at the time.
—
Monaco was...well, it was Monaco.
It had started fine. On Saturday, she sort of, kind of, accidentally met his family. It had been a coincidence, but Charles should've known the possibility of the encounter happening was high. After all, it was Monaco and they were all mixed in the same group anyway. That didn't take away the fact he would've liked for the meeting to be more of a formal and official thing rather than a casualty.
His mother was very sweet and nice, saying it was a pleasure to meet her and how beautiful she was. Sloane felt very comfortable and couldn't express enough about how nice it was on her own side to meet her. The woman talked about Charles, and she paid attention, mentioning how amazing her son had been with her ever since they met. She even received a kiss on each cheek when his mom had to bid her farewells.
When she met his brothers, that was when it turned a bit funny. His younger brother, Arthur, spent a good ten minutes pronouncing her name, he wanted to get it correctly and she wouldn't stop him from doing so, helping him when he butchered the pronunciation and smiling proudly when he got it right. He also made some jokes and asked why Charles, with the tone of someone who wanted to tell her that she could do better — jokingly, of course.
Then there was his older brother, Lorenzo, she couldn't help herself from mentioning how he had the same name as one of her favourite Italian designers who was also a good friend of hers, to which his brother replied by expressing that sadly he wasn't very talented in fashion but it was nice to have some familiarity even if just by name.
They were all very polite, and amiable, she didn't doubt why Charles was as sweet as he was now knowing his family. For a moment Sloane wished she could do that, to randomly introduce him to her own family without worrying about what her mother would think or what her father would say. She wished her family was as friendly and kind as his, and that the mere thought of introducing him to her parents didn't cause the level of anxiety it did.
Both of them were clearly not brought up in the same way, but she wasn't going to ruin it by trauma dumping, of course.
"I'm sorry—I wanted it to be different?" He smiled apologetically, his hand landing on the small of her back.
Returning the smile, with a hint of no worries, she shook her head. "It's alright. They're all very nice, and I mean...it doesn't get better than the Monaco Grand Prix, right?" She playfully nudged him.
Even whe he still seemed a bit remorseful over the whole thing happening the way it did, his smile never vanished. "It should have been over a nice dinner, more proper. With fewer jokes from Arthur as well." Perhaps he could organise something after the race the following day, he thought.
Sloane chuckled and shifted to stand in front of him, her hands taking a gentle hold of his shirt. "He was funny though. I like him. Seriously, don't worry." The joke about him having to meet her parents hung on her tongue because she didn't think about that a lot. "Do you mind if I go touch my make-up for a bit?"
"No problem, go ahead. I'll wait for you." She let go of his shirt, taking a step back.
He did reach to hold her hand and kiss it before setting her free. Sloane turned to look at him a few times as she walked away, fully coming to a stop a few steps later because she couldn't remember the directions. She twirled on the balls of her feet and wrinkled her nose, pointing with her finger left and right as if asking which direction. Charles chuckled, amused, and pointed to the right way. She placed a hand on her chest, right above her heart and then blew him a kiss before wandering off.
He was aware he was smiling like a complete idiot, and it only stopped when someone came from behind and patted him on the back, making him jolt startled. He turned to find Sebastian one second away from snorting at his wide-eyed expression.
"I was going to talk but you were too distracted staring at a girl." His former teammate raised his eyebrows, teasingly. "Is that your girlfriend?"
Well, that was a good question. She wasn't his girlfriend, maybe it was too soon to label themselves that way, but he didn't want to let go of her anytime soon so there was that. Also 'friend' couldn't really describe the real situation going on between them. It would be left to interpretation.
"She's my...something." Sebastian pursed his lips. "We aren't there yet."
He slowly nodded, amused by the description used. "Ah, I see. Reminds me of someone." Either he was perceiving things where they weren't or the German had sounded a tad bit sad.
"A girlfriend, Seb?" He playfully asked, to lighten the mood.
This one chuckled and shrugged. "Almost. Hopefully, it ends better for you than it did for me." He squeezed his shoulder once, and Charles smiled. "How are you feeling about this one? Positive?" Home races, Monaco in that case, were...tricky.
"We'll see, it's going to be hard with Lewis and Max out there." Sebastian could only agree with a nod.
That was probably one of the last times he actually felt a bit positive during that weekend.
Quali had started alright, more than alright really. He was even on it competing for pole with Max, everything was great...until it wasn't. Saying things went to hell when he was trying to better his time would only serve to put it gently because while he did end up getting pole position, he also crashed pretty heavily seconds before the end of quali. The car was incredibly damaged, causing a red flag to top it all.
Everything after that could be depicted as a proper shitshow. Especially on Sunday. Sunday had been even worse than Saturday.
Charles always knew the team and car wouldn't be able to compete with the likes of Mercedes and Red Bull that year. That if they got podium finishes, it would be good, but they wouldn't be in a championship-contending position. That being said, it was one thing knowing he'd still be able to participate in the race and another to completely miss his home race, out of all of them, because the car was fucked from what transpired the day before and he wouldn't even be able to start as a polesitter — to make it even worse.
Sloane, who was perhaps not very good at consoling people because she'd never been in that position before, didn't know what to do when she realised what was happening with his car. Like the situation was pretty shitty, and he'd been so excited about that specific race and then everything went wrong...she was truly heartbroken for him. She doubted telling him how sorry she was would be of any help or comfort, but it was all she could do.
When Charles did search for her after he arrived at the motorhome ahead of the start of the race, she had no issue engulfing him in a tight hug as soon as he reached for one. He hid his face in the crook of her neck, arms wrapping around her waist while she drew circles in his back with slow motions like that would somehow work something.
"I'm sorry." She muttered and kissed the side of his face. "I'm very sorry. I know how important it was for you."
His response to this was to press her closer to him and take a deep breath, inhaling and exhaling against the skin of her neck. It was the first time she understood it wouldn't always be champagne, after-parties and all those fancy things she'd gotten the opportunity to experience so far, and that Aurora and her dad were completely right all those times they had felt dejected about Ferrari in terms of racing. She didn't comprehend back then, now she did.
But it was alright. She wasn't in it only for the good anyway.
—
Daniel: I take it you won't be around today for the free drinks...tell Charlie I'm sorry about his car being fucked since I couldn't see him earlier before you guys left
After reading the message, Sloane looked down at Charles, who was still contemplating the ceiling of his apartment the same way he'd been doing it for almost half an hour now. He lay his head on her lap, her fingers threading between his hair trying to soothe him. It'd become a usual position for them. They were silent, or he'd been pretty silent since they arrived back at his place because he wanted privacy and quiet.
She'd respected it, even asking him if he wanted to be alone, just to make sure she wouldn't be annoying, but he'd told her to please stay and she wasn't one to say no to that. Neither did she want to.
Sloane: I'll tell him :) who won the race anyway? Did you do well at least?
Her main interest in racing was Charles, like he was the sole reason she would actually sit down to watch an entire race in the first place, and since he couldn't start that one, there was no use for her to give any care about the whole thing. She did hear Carlos had done well, from Aurora who'd tell her about it, but she didn't know if that was good or bad in terms of...well, the logistics of teammate vs teammate. Or whatever that was. Sloane was still working on her full understanding of racing.
A couple of new notifications from Daniel came through.
Daniel: Max won which means you won't take advantage of your patriotism tonight, but I'll get you some free cocktails next time don't worry
And a thumbs-up emoji. How thoughtful of him. The whole patriotism thing was becoming a running joke, apparently.
Daniel: I ended 12th so shit as well but at least I get free drinks after...I really do love your people
She nearly snorted. Daniel was something else. Sloane locked the phone and focused on Charles, his eyes met hers and she gave him a tiny smile. He returned it with one of his own and proceeded to reach for her hand, intertwining their fingers.
"Daniel said he's sorry about what happened to your car, that he wanted to talk to you earlier but he didn't find you." She passed the message, just as she'd promised she would.
Charles sighed deeply, glancing at their joined hands. "That's nice of him." Sloane nodded.
They fell silent again. Okay, she wasn't an expert on making people feel better. Fairly enough, it was her first time trying to play the supporting not-girlfriend part for someone like Charles. After a few minutes of lingering silence, something came to her mind. She thought about it and stalled because she hadn't done it in years, but it used to serve in making her grandfather feel better when he was sick so perhaps it could work for the situation at hand as well.
Either that or she would end up embarrassing herself and sounding corny as hell.
There went nothing anyway. The day couldn't get any worse already, and maybe she could get a sincere smile out of Charles by the end of the night if she tried. That was the main goal.
"Do you know Liebestraum?" The question broke the lack of noise. Her lips curved into an awkward smile when she caught at first glance his slightly furrowed brows.
The sudden words had taken him aback. Charles shook his head. "Liebestraum?" His pronunciation reminded Sloane of her piano professor and how she would always correct her whenever she enounced the R too much after uttering the word.
"It's a set of piano solos, I learned them some time ago and my grandpa liked it when I played them for him. It's maybe—is it dumb? Sorry, I know you're feeling down right now and I don't...I thought it might take your mind off things if I—never mind, this is stupid." Her hand gestured in an attempt to dismiss her words.
It didn't work that way with him though. Charles straightened up, coming face to face with her. He extended his hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "You want to play the piano for me?" He remembered her saying something about not playing anymore, so the offer per se was unforeseen.
And made him feel all kinds of things at the same time. The good kind after the terrible day he'd been through.
She nodded and then shook her head a second after. It was confusing. "I mean, I could try. To be honest, I can only remember the third solo and I might fuck it up but this is—is it corny? Too over the top? It's the first thing I could think of, and it's that or give you head but that's not very romantic, is it? Fuck, ignore that last part. Ew, that sounded so bad." She was babbling, just letting every word slip past her lips with not much consideration behind, and it was...working. Somehow.
Because Charles was smiling. He held her face in his hands, forcing her to look at him. The glint in his eyes that had been gone for hours was back, to some extent. Her breath got caught in her throat, and she closed her eyes when he leaned in to steal a kiss from her. It was sweet, his lips soft and cold against hers. Her heart felt like it would burst out of her chest from him simply existing as a person and the fact she just offered to play the piano for him.
Sloane had never done that with anyone, except for her grandfather. Not even Aurora who only knew she could play from all her complaints as a teenager and the gigantic piano in her living room back home.
"The piano. I'd love it if you play the piano for me." He said against her lips when he pulled away and broke the kiss. She nodded.
They were quite squeezed on his piano stool, but not uncomfortable enough to not be able to move. Charles moved her hair to the side, the touch making her shiver a little. His gaze was set on her while she analysed the keys on the piano, pressing a few to get the hang of it. It was different from hers, size-wise that was, but she could work with it. Her brows creased a tiny bit, more as an act of reflection than anything else. Being in that position triggered memories of her father asking her if she knew this or that, or giving her a glare when she missed a note whenever he checked how much progress she'd made after her lessons.
Not a good time to roll traumatic memories in her brain like some type of horror movie. With extra scenes included. Alright.
"My old professor would love you just for this alone." That poor woman had tried to teach her such incredible sets and all she always did was ask how to play lullabies.
Granted and expected, she messed up the first notes but it was far better to have Charles softly bumping his knee with hers to give her confidence instead of her father staring down at her like she just committed a crime closer to arson. She managed to relax a little when she understood there was no pressure this time.
When Sloane said she hadn't played in a while, she genuinely meant it and it was notorious. Maybe next time she wouldn't offer to play a Franz Liszt piece, that was her first mistake. She should have propositioned an extended version of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, that she could do with no issues. She eyed him for a second, making sure her little improvised concert wasn't giving him the ultimate ick — like seriously, what was her thought process when deciding to play the piano for the first time in years to a guy who also played the piano and was much better than her at it, from practice alone.
It turned out she was the only one giving herself the ick from it because he seemed immersed and one hundred per cent engaged in the situation.
He was staring at her fingers very attentively, and smiling like she was doing it perfectly and not butchering every other note. But the important part of it all was: the sincere smile. It was there and it made her proud and happy at the same time.
Once she was done with the performance that should have never happened — and it would never be repeated for sure —, she pursed her lips, wiggling her fingers. They felt strange and stiff for less than a second. The execution of the idea was better in her head, but hey, she'd done it and managed to get a smile out of him, so despite the embarrassment, it'd been worthy.
"If you ignore the parts I mucked up, that wasn't as anticlimactic as I initially expected it to be." She huffed, followed by a soft chuckle.
There was no reply from his side, and fine, she thought, it'd been bad but not terrible enough to make him go mute. For someone who was rusty, her memory made a massive effort to remember how to play the whole thing. Yeah, it'd been embarrassing but she'd tried.
Or maybe she should've opted for the blowjob. Anyway.
"Sloane," There it was. She looked at him, lips pressed in a line. Charles was smiling. "This...it's been a really shitty day but you're so beautiful and amazing, and you've made it so much better." He reached for her hand, bringing it closer to place a kiss there. She felt her heartbeat in her throat after that. "Thank you, ma belle." That day was the first time he called her that way.
They thought there, still sitting on the piano stool together, shoulders and arms brushing each other, that they could keep that moment in Monaco with them forever because at the time it sounded attainable to remember.
--
a/n:
i have to admit the last straw for me to decide to write sloane was when someone commented about her using charles and i was like...my girl has a lot of flaws (dumb, evasive tendencies, big ego, etc) but gold digger and clout chaser aren't on that list😭
also i know i'm moving fast with this one but i have to cover like a year of relationship soooooo let's just go with it