One week later:
Florence's POV:
I walked up to the Ferrari paddock more nervous than expected. My feet guided me forward, while my dad was distracted by everything yards behind me. He almost cried when I told him Charles got us all access when we left England, shocked he was surprised by the insider treatment.
I had just arrived to Monza this morning, I opted for a cozy private villa that I rented for the weekend. My dad offered for me to stay at his friends house with him, but I politely declined a few days ago.
Qualifier ended an hour ago, and I received a text from Charles 10 minutes ago to meet him at the garage. When I entered a few faces turned to me with kind smiles, but none belonged to Charles. An older man quickly approached meeting me in the entrance.
"Ciao signorina Bonsee, it's an honor to have you in the Ferrari garage. Charles got called into a review for a moment, but asked me to meet you. My name is Fred, I'm the team principal," he smiled politely reaching out his hand to shake, I gladly accepted.
"Nice to meet you, it's a privilege to be here," I responded. My dad finally made it behind me. "Fred, this is my coach and father, Gregor."
My dad stepped to my side shaking his hand, I could see him battling for words. "Ciao, thank you for having us," he finally managed to say.
"Come come, let me show you around the garage," Fred turned waving us on.
While seeing formula 1 on tv, I've never been to a race or ever imagined being behind the scenes. It all seemed so complicated to tennis, so many moving parts, different jobs of people flying around, and lots of sound. It was wonderful, I could see why Charles talked about it so fondly.
Frank sat on a stool and spun so he could face us.
"If you all need anything this weekend, please let us know. We are excited to have you here at Ferrari Ms. Bonsee," he began.
I stopped him briefly. "Please feel free to call me Florence if you'd like."
He smiled. "Of course. Florence, we are so thrilled you accepted the offer to wave the checkered flag for the race tomorrow. It's a moment of celebration to have such an incredible female athlete represent Italy. Monza is so passionate, the Tifosi fans will love you."
"Thank you," I smiled looking around the garage further before returning my attention back to Fred.
"Let be the first to congratulate you here in the garage, I'm a huge fan of yours and Italian tennis. Your match last week was incredible, and Ferrari is delighted to host the runner up of Wimbledon."
Runner up. My body tensed but I attempted to keep my smile plastered as it was. I felt my dad's arm wrap around my shoulder. He knew I wasn't quite to terms with my loss. "Grazie [thank you], it was an incredible day," I said lying through my teeth.
Frank looked to my dad, "so coach and dad, how do you balance that?"
I didn't listen to their conversation, but all the sudden the garage became overwhelming. Loud drill sounds coming from every direction, people bolting in and out, and equipment everywhere. I placed my hands together, they were beginning to sweat as I laced them behind my back to twist my fingers without Fred noticing. I chewed on my bottom lip tuning back into the conversation in front me. They were getting ready to move onto another topic.
"Mi scuse," I practically shouted, my dad eyebrows went up in surprise by my tone and Fred turned to me curiously. "Sorry to interrupt, did I hear the track was open for walking? Sorry for the yell, my hearing can be terrible."
Fred laughed waving his hand casually. "No problem at all. The track is open for walking , please go enjoy!"
"Thank you again." I could feel my dad's gaze on me, but I stepped away without a word and reminded myself not to run. A couple steps away my dad called out to see if I was good, and I only gave a thumbs up in the air before I heard him and Fred resume conversation.
The second I left the garage, I was out in the pit area, it was slightly busy with employees walking around. I looked both directions and saw going left led to the track faster. My gate widened as I did everything to put space between me and any possible person. My mind went blank, I just listened to my footsteps through the first turn and straightaway. I realized I had been walking for 30 minutes when I finally stopped. I looked in front of me and there was no one in sight. I spun around to look behind me, it was empty as well. I looked to my side and there was a wall creating some shade on the track. I sat right in the shade, my but on the race track, my back against the wall. I placed my sunglasses on top of my head and wrapped my arms around my knees pulling them in. I closed my eyes leaning my head back and finally let the thoughts catch back up to me.
It was the best battle of 2023 according to the announcer. The first game 7-5 to Bonsee, 6-4 to Hudson, and then a tie break to decide the final, 11-13. I half listened to her further summarize the match, absolutely sick to my stomach. I could barely hold myself up, and I was over making sure I looked happy to be here. Tennis was one of the few sports that made people stay out and give an interview after a championship loss, and it was torture this time. I could usually find the positives after a loss and find something to celebrate. This wasn't just a loss though, it was heartbreak and everyone knew it and would agree.
"Ladies and gentleman, please put your hands together for our incredible finalist, Florence Bonsee." The crowd roared, and I stepped forward, taking a curtsy before I proceeded to the princess. She held out a plain plate-like trophy and I finally made eye contact and whispered thank you.
"Hang in there, it's almost over," she whispered in my ear. I gave a small grin and nodded, I appreciated her honest response.
I went to stand in front of the microphone, my eyes were locked on the intricate plate being held in front of me still waiting to be presented. I tore my eyes away and realized I had left my platter hanging down by my side, hanging onto it with one finger casually hooked around the edge.
"Oops," I said into the mic as I carefully grabbed the other side of my award holding it up against my chest with one hand. The crowd buzzed with laughter. "Ughhh, this one's tough," I began but immediately choked up, my voice failing me and tears swelling in my eyes. It came without warning. I took a step back and did my best to hold it in. I felt a staff member tap me, offering to hold my trophy. I handed it to them and brought my hands to my eyes, trying to wipe away any tears that had escaped.
The crowd roared in support and I shook my head nervous as I stepped back to the microphone. "I'm sorry," I said testing out my voice making sure it wasn't going to crack. "First I'd like to congratulate Louisa, hell of a match today. Your ability to respond to a tough first set is something to be jealous of, and your second set was the hardest chess match of my life." She gave me a smile when I looked over. "The third set I'm not really ready to talk about yet, but it was the battle of a lifetime and you deserve a standing ovation for your play." A sniffle escaped my mouth, but I needed to continue before my emotions took over.
I couldn't look up to my box yet, so I took a deep breath. "Thank you dad slash coach, my team~David, Frazier, Hannah~, and my new fans... you don't need me to introduce them." The crowd applauded when I couldn't continue, the fear of crying more. I glanced up at my box and everyone was standing, smiling, clapping. My dad had pulled his sunglasses down to cover his eyes. My team was all smiles, and Charles and Pierre were letting out loud cheers.
"To the fans, thank you for the last few weeks. You were all wonderful, and I hope to give you a show next year!" The stadium was deafening. I shook my head stepping back while the presentation for the champion began. I zoned out for most of it, gave a nod when Louisa acknowledged me in her speech, and then I waved as I left the court into the tunnel. My eyes landed on my dad who was leaned against the wall.
I tried to force a smile while he took my bag and placed it on the ground and tossed my plate on top of it. "You don't have to fake it kiddo, I know," he said quietly.
"Thank you," I choked out hugging him. I felt his arms wrap around me, and his hand rested on top of my head engulfing me in the embrace. The tears finally flowing freely.
My eyes quickly shot open when someone cleared their throat nearby, and I completely forgot I was sitting on the track by myself. I looked up and saw I wasn't alone. "Jesus Pierre, you scared the shit out of me."
"You okay?" He asked looking down at me.
I chose to share my honest thought. "I'm tired of people congratulating me for losing."
Pierre chuckled reaching a hand down, offering to help me up. "I don't think your sports psychologist would approve of that thinking," his tone light as he pulled to my feet.
"She knows not to bother me yet. She doesn't want to fail at her job," I teased back.
Pierre smiled, "believe me, I understand. Care to join me for a walk, or do you want to sit on the racetrack till some more cars come?"
"I like the first option more." We fell into stride together. "How'd qualifying go for you? I tried to keep up, but it was insanity."
He hummed for a second, I could tell he wasn't thrilled with his day. "P11, not my best. Explains my walk."
"I had no idea they eliminated cars throughout qualifying. You still looked really cool driving." It was my feeble attempt to lighten his mood.
"Thanks," he smiled. "You know I never got to tell you after England, but I really enjoyed getting to know you and your team during the tournament. The team dinner after the final was still really fun, if we forget about the match."
"It was. I'm so glad you and Charles accidentally watched my match."
"Me too." He paused for a moment than continued. "So you and Charles got some time to get to know one another, yeah?"
I was a little shocked at his statement, but I looked over to him and he looked more curious than serious. "We did," I offered up.
"I don't have much to say, but he's my best mate. He can be pretty private when it comes to his feelings, but I was beyond happy to see you two enjoying some time together. He seems to really like your company."
"The feeling is mutual," I shared back.
"Good," he said simply. "You two seem to hit it off."
We continued our walk, talking about the race weekend. I could see the pit lane forming, leading us back to the paddock. He told me about how he thought Lewis Hamilton got in the way of his fast lap today keeping him out of Q3, but how he would get over it if he wanted to improve his place in the race.
We entered the pit straight away, when he spoke up again. "I hope you don't mind, I gave your number to Kika this morning. She may text you to hang out at the race for a little tomorrow."
I smiled, Pierre was wonderful. "Thank you, that would be so nice. Can't wait to meet her, she sounds wonderful."
"She is," his voice content. We looked up to the garages and saw Charles hanging around the entrance of Ferrari. He looked up and saw us, giving us an excited wave. "Look who it is," Pierre said cheekily. I nudged my elbow into his side.
We watched as Charles ran up to us with a smile on his face. He was still in his race suit, hair pointing in every direction, green eyes shining. Damn I'm in trouble.