Precious Star

Number

Coming back from the couple of weeks I had off before the race where not what I had envisioned for them. After my little conversation at the beach with Leclerc I could think of anything else. All my thoughts, all my worries, all my anxieties revolved around that. My concentration was not where it should be. Coming into F1 I promised myself, No issues that distract you from the championship. Yet here I was, overthinking and bringing unnecessary stress onto myself, and it revolves around him. This wasn't the only promise I am breaking. When he left and I realized he would not come back I promised myself, You will never let him in again, never.

Every driver has been asked what our thoughts are before the lights go out, and we have all said nothing. Our minds go completely blank, yet here I was in pole position ready to start the Australian GP and thinking about him. Not the race, him.

"Senna, do you copy?"

"Sorry, yes. Copy." Dear God help me.

~

"Keep it up, Senna."

"What is my time?"

"1:25:42, you are just about to finish lap 57."

"Copy." I had held my lead these past 57 laps of 58, leaving behind everyone. Passing the finishing line I see Ocon, who is currently sitting in P2. "How far is Ocon?"

"0.5 seconds behind."

Right after this, I felt a slight push in my rear. "What the fuck? He hit me."

"Understood. Just defend."

"Just defend, what the fuck am I supposed to defend? This motherfucker is playing bumper carts," Another push, but this push causes me to swerve to the left. "No. No. NO!" Losing control of the car I crashed into the barricades, receiving a severe amount of damage. "MIERDA!" [SHIT!] Getting up on my seat I take off my steering wheel, slamming it on my car. Defeated I look up at the sky, "I'm so sorry, Papa, Jules."

~

Storming off, I know Ocon won't get his pole. Taking off my helmet and balaclava, before I suddenly bump into someone. "Shit."

"Alaina Senna?" Looking up I met with some dazzling green eyes, slightly covered with his brown curly hair. He's gorgeous, I'll give him that. "Christopher Blanc, a pleasure to meet you."

Taking his hand, he had a firm shake. Slightly smiling up at him, "Pleasure."

"Ocon is an ass for that. He deserves a big penalty."

"Dear God, I know!" frustrated, being reminded of the hit. "That bastard deserves the worst. It is unacceptable what he did."

"I agree."

"I shouldn't be here. I should be over there celebrating another win," Looking at my garage which wasn't far from where we were at. The team was celebrating Leclerc's P2, even though we all know he's going to get pole because of Ocon.

"Yeah, but if he wouldn't have done that, we wouldn't have met."

Taken back, I turn to look at him, slightly turning my head to the left. "I guess so."

"Gotta look at the bright side."

Before I could respond I hear a certain Monégasque cursing at Ocon. "What the hell were you thinking?" Leclerc screamed, coming face to face with him. "You could have killed her."

"It was just a light tap, she couldn't defend."

"You know damn well that race was hers," Max came in between Leclerc and Ocon.

"Dear God, don't do anything," I whispered, this won't be good for the media.

"She's a woman, this race was nowhere near-" Before Ocon could finish his sentence Max pushed him back, cursing in Dutch.

"Fuck!" I pushed past Christopher before he followed me. "Max, get off him."

"Alaina, stay out," Max yelled, rage clearly blinding him from what he was doing and who he was talking to.

"MAX! LEAVE IT!" Snapping out of it, he turned to look at me, his eyes slightly softening, before turning to look back at Ocon.

"Let's get you to medical," Leclerc said, looking me up and down, trying to find any visible injury. I was fine, but safety procedures need to be followed.

"Do you need water or food?" Christopher asked, placing his hand on my lower back.

"I should be fine, don't worry."

"Yeah mate, she'll be fine," Leclerc butted in, leading me to our garage. Max, of course, stayed a little back, watching the whole thing play out with a smirk on his face.

"Get off me," I whispered, not wanting to make a scene, but slightly pushing him off.

"I never got your number," Christopher said, as he began to approach us again. Handing me his phone I typed in my number, hearing Max chuckle at my left and seeing Charles rolling his eyes and crossing his arms. "I'll text you."

"See you later, Christopher." Walking away with both racers beside me. "Go ahead. Say it."

"Christopher seems cool," Max said, before completely bursting out laughing. "'I never got your number,'" he mocked in a high-pitched voice as he skipped around.

"He did not sound like that!"

"Yes he did," Leclerc butted in. I turned to look at him, eyebrows knitted together. But he was looking ahead, not minding to look at me. Pathetic.

"I think he is nice, and quite frankly handsome."

"HANDSOME?! Stop making me laugh Alaina," Max chuckled, bending over like I said the best dad joke he has ever heard.

"You're gone."

"Wha-"

"You are not allowed in this garage."

"You are just hurt I insulted your boyfriend," he said before walking off to his garage, laughing his ass off.

Turning to look at my teammate I can see and hear his thoughts, "You have no say in this."

Shrugging and leading me to medical, Leclerc murmured, "Max is not wrong."