Hidden Secrets

56- The world

"Lena, you've gotta relax"

"I can't, this is fucking scary sof" I shake my head, my eyes strained on the tv in front of me, heart pounding in my head, nerves crawling through me

"Do you trust his driving?"

"Of course I do but-"

"Then please, shut the fuck up, he's paid to do this"

"He's six points behind Max, if he doesn't get first, he looses the championship, what if he pushes himself to far?"

"Princess" She only says the one word, looking at me with a look that tells me everything I need to hear, I nod in acknowledgment taking a deep breath to go back to watching him race

Three laps to go, he's in p2 with Max ahead by .9 seconds

"Drs is available, overtake on the straight" My stomach flips watching him pull out of the slipstream, successfully making his way around the red bull, the move influences a roar of applause from the team surrounding me, each one sat staring with the same intrigued and stressed facial expression that mirrors mine perfectly

"Fuck" I bite my lip, angry watching max overtake Charles in turn 7

"Wait. He's got drs again" Sofiia's words make me scoot to the edge of my seat, hands interlocked with one about her right in-front of my face, squeezing them so tight they've turned white

My heart tightens in my chest as he pulls back out from behind Max, the red car making its way ahead of the dutchman right before turn 9

This lap determines if Charles becomes a world champion, the thought brings excitement to me like i've never experienced, how is it possible to feel so strongly for someone when the achievements got nothing to do with me?

All I did was simply give my support to the boy, repeating the affirmations that he could win something so big, so out of reach in our naive eyes mere months ago, perhaps it's because i'm witness to the journey, the rough on a perfectly cut diamond, the outside of that articulate ring displays a rare, expensive jewel, and only that, the seller never once speaks on its origin, the painstaking hours finding the stone, polishing it to its now prestigious reputation, and now i'm sat here, watching that 'perfect' boy, knowing that he wasn't always how he appears now, the confidence in his voice, the courage in his driving, it's all planned, it didn't appear one day with ease, I watched him become his own worst enemy, which only ever is viewed as a negative if nothing comes from it, but now that boy is seconds away from being that quintessential appearance, that faultless jewel, the plan that he was told countless times he'd never be able to go through with, claiming he wasn't good enough, that he was crazy, being told it's dangerous to be so ambitious with no way of pursuing the action, but why put a diamond for sale with no expectations for a buyer? What person ever got anywhere that withholds significance without the intent of their arrival?

He found himself passing that object daily, more times than the human brain had the mental ability to count, he knew what he wanted, what he sought after, and he worked for it, every day he slowed in his steps more than the last, giving him the capability to inspect the stone more than the previous time allowed of him, until one of those days, he walked in, he spoke with the workers, asked the price, created the logistic path necessary to turn the want into a have, everyone always asked him why, looked at him in the upmost judgmental of expressions, why couldn't he want something attainable, realistic, even? Why would he allow himself to be so naive? They expected him to react to their words, hopeful in their capability to put an end to his madness, never quite realizing it only made him want it more, he never fully disclosed this plan, the step by step strategy in buying the diamond, so that when he handed the workers a card, when his name was spoken followed by a thank you, with all bystanders shocked in his ability to pay for such an expensive thing, it felt that much more satisfying.

That satisfaction is so strong, so powerful that even me, the one who only ever merely walked with him in his journey through the story, could feel it too. When the Rosso Corsa red sped past the checkered line, with the man waving a flag indicating his finish swaying the material in such a way you'd think he too, had that satisfaction coursing through him, it told the population of viewers, Charles Leclerc is a world champion.

Ferrari has won the drivers championship 15 times, with nine different drivers, Charles makes 16, the number he's driven with for as long as it was his choice, the day he was born, the age he was when he began driving cars rather than karts, you could say it was meant to be although can you truly say such a thing? When it's not mere fate, or luck, what he just did was skill, grit, something only 34 other people can say they've done, it seems silly to downgrade such an accomplishment in the terms of being 'meant to be' no matter it's intentions, it puts down a claim that it was 'gods' doing, a guardian angel, if you will, but this was him, he did this, he did what the people he's lost never could, he's got the world in his hands, and I'm prepared to grant him the moon, i'd give him the sun if I could although he's already gotten ahold of that, he's had it much longer than I could have even had time to realize, he's always been my sun in the shadows of the moon, the warmth in the blistering cold, and id have it no other way, and now, finally, everyone else can see what I see, they understand why he'd ever want a diamond so expensive, watching as he finishes his cool down lap, getting out of the car with the bright excitement that perfectly imitates that of the sun.

I never realized just how much I wanted to be near him until he's back in my arms, squeezing me to express the level of exhilaration that comes with what he had just accomplished, "I'm so proud of you Marc, so, so, so, proud" I hold his face in my hands, no longer hugging him in order to scan his expressions, a bright smile i've become accustomed to seeing daily now that much bigger, his green eyes no longer hungry for the win, but content

"Thank you, Valentine, for believing in me, I-" I don't allow him to finish, diminishing the space between us my lips press to his, speaking the words neither of us have the capability to utter in the euphoric state we've been placed into

I know everyone's eyes are on us, aware of the connection the two of us have created, I love him, and i've got the stars as our witness, and the world in our hands.

Words: 1207

Crying, screaming, throwing up

this might be one of my favorite chapters i've ever written

One more chapter left :(

I cannot believe that I started this two months ago and now i've got 470k reads, and people that make me love to write, you guys are incredible I love you so much <3