midnights, charles leclerc

7.

melbourne was a dream. while we were there my modelling agent, florence, told me that sports illustrated wanted me to covert their latest issue. of course this was a massive step forward in my career. it's not every day that sports illustrated asks you to do a photoshoot for them.

i went and it went very very well. everyone was super pleased with the photos. plus the photographer was super nice to deal with.

the weekend also went well with charles leclerc winning the race, the race was incredible he dominated the entire weekend. it was also a good race for lando who was p5 and for pierre in p9. everyone scored points this weekend. charles also extending his lead in the drivers championship. we were all super proud of him.

sports illustrated asked if i could go back to do the interview part for the magazine. of course i went and it was so far going well...

"you are best friends with charles leclerc, correct?" best friends. i nodded my head, not daring to say the words. "how does charles' win today make you feel." the interviewer asked me. "well obviously i'm so happy and proud of him, especially knowing all the hard work charles puts in behind the scenes to get to where he is now. but long may the winning continue."

"do you think charles may have a chance to snag the championship from max verstappen?" again the interviewer asked me about charles. "it is only the third race of the season, you can not tell much so far, but neither charles nor max look as if they will be backing down from the fight."

"there have been a few fans speculating that charles gifted you a ferrari for your birthday. what are your thoughts?" my jaw dropped. he did not just ask me that. he knows damn well i bought that with my own money, yet this man is being up a non-existent rumour just to take a chip at my pride.

"no charles didn't gift me my car, i paid for it myself a couple of months ago. it is a very proud moment for you to pay for your first car, and for it to be a ferrari."

being a successful woman in an industry like mine, men can not seem to handle the fact that you are successful so will do anything to make your achievements less important or to do things like what that interviewer had just asked me.

men get intimidated by women so fast. as soon as a woman does something better than them they are immediately threatened. they feel there masculinity begin to crumble and will do anything to get it back, the most common responses are either passive aggressive comments or straight up hatred.

but the worst is being a successful woman associated with a just as successful man. such as myself. the media will do whatever it takes to make the woman appear inferior.

"how could you have possibly been able to pay for a ferrari?" i have no words. "i think that is enough questions thank you", florence said cutting into the conversation. i have never been more grateful to see my redhead agent in my life. she links her arm with mine and practically drags me out of the room and into the black suv waiting outside of the building.

i felt on fire. my hands, my legs, my soul, my pride. how dare that man. how dare he question my worth. the fact that he was implying that i can't have as much money and can't afford the same things as men, purely based off of my gender and what i do for a living.

yes i am a model, yes i am friends with f1 drivers and have been for my entire life. yes. and yes i am successful and yes i am proud of my achievements. i don't need anyone degrading them for what they truly are.

but.

what if he's not saying it about my gender. what if he genuinely believes i am not worth the amount i am paid, and the comment was a way for him to take a dig at me, personally. what if i'm not enough. my breathing quickens as i am being forced into the car.

tears are welling in my eyes and i'm struggling to see.

you're not good enough. you're not good enough. you're not good enough. you're not good enough. you're not good enough. you're not good enough. you're not good enough. you're not good enough. you're not good enough. you're not good enough. you're not good enough. you're not good enough.

this is why your mother hates you. you aren't good enough for anyone or anything. you don't deserve the success. you're to weak to handle what comes with it.

my thoughts were only getting darker. i felt like i have just sunk to the bottom of the ocean and forgotten my oxygen mask at the surface.

i didn't even notice charles sitting across from me in the car, holding my face in his hands, trying his very best to calm me down. which seemed impossible. "emilia." "em!" he called out, panicking ."emilia, look at me." he whispered firmly, putting his own emotions aside for my benefit.

i did.

and suddenly it all seemed ok. all i saw were those green eyes. i calmed down and took one of charles hands off of my face and held it. "thank you." i mumbled slightly embarrassed at what just happened.

i felt the tears on my cheeks still pour out of my eyes without being able to control them. but at least my breathing was returning to a human pace.

for the rest of the journey charles nor i spoke of my panic attack throughout the car journey, which i was grateful for. he took my mind off of it, and reminded me of memories of when we were young, unlocking some that i had forgotten about.

this is why charles leclerc is in my life.