Charles stands next to Fayen in the backstage area watching the model walk out at the close of the show. He is a little relieved that it isn't him walking out there. In hindsight he realises that he would have been in a lot of trouble with multiple people if he did go out there wearing a designer that he doesn't have a contract with.
Luckily the guy strode in just before the show started with the air of someone who had done nothing wrong. Fayen had been fuming under her skin, Charles could feel the fury radiating off of her as he stood ready to go out here just so Fayen's job would be saved. A quick outfit change later and nobody said a word about the whole ordeal.
Charles glances sideways at the woman who had been watching the show with hawk eyes to catch anything that could've gone wrong, but now the last model was walking the tension in her shoulders lifts and she even has a little smile on her face. It is an expression of relief. Her eyes shift from stress to pride and they glow in the little light that comes into the backstage area.
The crowd claps when the designers walk out and Charles joins the clapping, but instead to direct it in front of him he tilts his hands to Fayen and claps for her. The sound makes her look to her right and she laughs as she sees Charles clapping for her. First she rolls her eyes, but she can't resist the urge to make a little bow. He doesn't stop his clapping and even lets out a loud 'whoo' to her.
She slaps his arm and scoffs. "Stop it." But her smile stays plastered to her face and Charles feels like it's the brightest sight he has seen in a while.
"You deserve it though," he says, nudging her shoulder with his. "You've worked very hard and it almost went to shit."
She glares at him, but he holds a hand up in a gesture for her to wait. "But you managed perfectly and it all went great in the end. You deserve applause for that."
The woman looks at him and his breath hitches under the beauty of the sparkle in her eyes. When their gazes lock it remains for a second and then her eyes grow cold again. "I deserve a drink." Her eyes stand sharp and hostile, boring into his head. Then he remembers that they are not in a good place at this moment. A sigh rolls of his lips before he looks back out to the runway.
She looks back to the runway as well, where the designers are turning back to walk off it. Her eyes follow them and Charles steals a quick glance at her. He can see she is not thinking about the show anymore. There is a war waging behind her eyes and likely in her mind and Charles would give his life to know what she is contemplating.
"Then let's get one." The words are out before he has thought them through. She looks back at him with a raised brow. He shrugs, "I am free for the rest of the evening." He pushes his hand up through his hair, resting his hand in his neck before adding quickly, "That is if you want to."
Fayen cocks her head to the side and follows the line of his arm to where his hand is resting. Charles quickly lets down his arm, knowing what she must be thinking. She was the one to point out his nervous habit in the first place. To steady himself a little he pushes the traitorous hand into the pocket of his trousers. A feeling of great discomfort comes over him and he even feels a little clam coming onto his hands. He stretches the fingers from his free hand to get rid of the sweaty feeling. He looks everywhere except at the woman in front of him.
Charles feels pinned under her gaze, not moving, trying to give off an air of patiently waiting for her to decide. In the meantime he begins cursing himself. Why did he ask that? Wasn't he still mad at her for ignoring him? Will she think he means it as a date? Did he mean it as a date? Did he want it to be?
The last question makes his insides feel funny, like the way he feels just before the lights go out on the race Sunday. Not knowing what is going to happen, but ready for the excitement and pressure that will follow. The funny feeling is fueled by a little ember that was buried inside his chest weeks ago. It blazes to life and starts to spread his little sparks millimetre by millimetre through his abdomen. It lets him forget all his anger and resentment he had about her going radio silent on him.
The heat flushes to his cheeks and he clears his throat to get his head back to the conversation. Which seems to have continued without him noticing, because Fayen is looking at him expectantly. Like he has the next turn to speak. He blinks a few times. "Sorry, what?"
She rolls her eyes at him. "Where did you float off to?"
He just shakes his head a little and flashes a smile at her. "Nowhere, what did you say?"
"I want to, but I can't. I need to finish here." She looks behind her where the models are getting out of the designer pieces and crew members start working on all sorts of things.
She wants to. For the second time Charles' breath hitches. It's an opening he was not expecting to get.
"I could wait." The words stumble from his mouth without any sort of grace. What is he doing?
She takes her bottom lip between her teeth and shakes her head. "It will take a while," she says, but she looks genuinely put out by refusing his offer. Maybe she just really needed that drink. Still, Charles feels the hope seer in his clouded head.
Pushed by the growing ember he takes a more casual stance and shrugs. "I have time." He has no control over anything that falls from his mouth at this point and is fully being controlled by some weird higher power. Fayen, looking all professional and beautiful, just spins his head around so much that he loses it completely.
Something flashes behind her eyes, a split second and it is gone. Too short a moment for Charles to unravel. To his utter delight she nods then. "Right, if you are willing to wait I could use that drink and a friend."
Friend.
Charles comes crashing down back on earth from hearing that one word. Right, they were being a weird fake-friend thing. Her calling him a friend instead of fake-friend should be a win, but it doesn't. The ember in his chest sputters and tries his best to stay alive, but Charles' rational mind is making that very hard.
"I'll come find you when I'm done," she says with a smile. "You can find Pierre first, I think he will be wondering where you went off to." Fayen turns around and walks off after that, leaving Charles in more distress than she realises. Because that was the second wake up call. Pierre.
He had texted his best friend where he was, but he should indeed go and find him. He watches Fayen a moment more. She starts ordering people around and the authority she shows almost makes Charles fire up again. He keeps himself in check by quickly turning away and going to search for his best friend.
He finds Pierre and Kika on their way out. "I was just about to text you. Where is Fayen, I wanted to see her before we need to leave to make the Louis Vuitton show in time," Pierre asks him when he catches up with the pair.
"She is finishing some things backstage," Charles answers. "Would take a while."
Pierre sighs sadly. "Well, I'll just call her after. We need to leave now, otherwise we'll not make it."
Charles shakes his head and stops Pierre from walking to the exit. "I'm staying here for a bit. I don't think we will see each other again before Austria, so this is goodbye for now."
Pierre turns around, giving the other his full attention. "I thought you wanted to come with us?"
"Yes, to this show."
"Not that you have seen much of it."
Charles scoffs. "I was backstage, saw everything, don't worry." He claps Pierre on his shoulder.
The Frenchman gives him a sceptical look. "Why did you stay backstage?"
Charles falters. He isn't quick enough in answering and Pierre's brows knit together. "I-I just, there was an issue and I thought I could help."
"Even when the show started?" Pierre's expression is growing darker by the second and Charles can't find the words he needs to explain his worries away. "And why are you staying after?"
Charles is looking somewhere next to Pierre's head, avoiding his stare. He doesn't know why he is being so difficult about this. It is not like he has any intention with Fayen, or well... But she doesn't have intentions with him so it is still nothing more than friends getting a drink. Why is he being so awkward about it? His throat feels dry when he tries to explain again. "Pierre, it's nothing really-"
"Sweetheart, we need to go if we want to make the show. If Charles wants to stay here that's his choice," Kika interrupts him and takes Pierre's hand before turning to Charles. "I am not attending the Austria Grand Prix, so I think I will see you in Silverstone?"
Charles thanks the heavens for Francisca Gomes. He smiles at her and nods. "Yeah, see you there."
Pierre makes himself lose from his girlfriend to hug Charles. "See you Thursday," he says, but then squeezes him a little harder and whispers so Kika can't hear him. "Don't try anything Leclerc, I mean it."
Charles swallows thickly and nods before letting go. Pierre is smiling again and takes Kika's hand in his again. "Bye," he says and waves. While they turn to walk away Kika throws a look over her shoulder and gives him a wink with a bright smile.
Oh.
Charles gives a sly smile back and mouths 'thank you.' She turns and walks off with an unsuspecting Pierre.
Thank the heavens for Francisca Gomes.
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