Precious Star

Interview

" I met his parents."

"WHA-"

I was currently entering the paddock with Carlos and Max and was giving them a rundown of my week. "Well, technically I met his family. He has two sisters and three brothers. Big family. We had a BBQ-"

"I'm sorry," Carlos cut me off, stopping in his tracks. "When was this?"

"Yeah!" Max stopped beside him. "And how come we weren't informed?"

"This was Wednesday, and you would have been informed if you answered my calls on Tuesday."

"Charles! I left my phone with him! GODDAMIT!"

"Horner! I was in meetings all day! GODDAMIT!"

Rolling my eyes, I bid them my goodbyes, promising them I would explain after our practice laps. Going into the garage I greeted all the mechanics and engineers, biding them a good morning. I felt cheerful and happy. I'm not sure why, but I was. It felt nice.

Going into my driver's room I took off my jacket and sat on my couch, reviewing some notes. A few minutes later, I was interrupted by Grace "Alaina, you have an interview with Charles in 20."

"Shit," I whispered.

"Better start preparing, darling." How could I forget? Right after she closed the door I rushed to the schedule hanging on my wall. Sure enough, there was an interview with him.

~

Evidently, 20 minutes I found myself sitting in a chair waiting for the crew to work out lighting and sound. Headphones in listening to One Direction, my husband, waiting for my cue. I felt a presence sit beside me, clearly disturbing my peace.

"Buongiorno." [Good morning] Turning to look at him I keep a blank face. How can he do this? One day he's a complete asshole and the next he acts as if we were the best of friends. Which friends wasn't anywhere near our vocabulary. The only friends I have are Max, Carlos, Pierre, Lando, and Daniel. Leclerc and I are teammates who so happen to have a history. "So how was your morning?" Once again, another blank face was sent his way. He really cannot take a hint. He remembers so much of me like my thoughts on alcohol and other things, but he can't remember the fact that I liked to be alone. More or less. "Look it, we can't have any tension visible in the interview. The media and the fans will see it right away."

"I'm not holding any tension, are you?" I raised a brow, waiting for him to answer.

"No, but I can feel it."

"You see, we are specifically trained with media for things like this. I can put up an act, can you?"

"This is because of earlier this week isn't it?"

Once again, blank face. Of course, dumbass. "Of course not. I just want my time. Meaning only me, no one else. Why do you think Grace is not with me?" Grace was with me, and I had asked her to leave me alone before the interview.

"We both know you hate being alone." Yeah, yeah, whatever. "Where's Christopher?"

"He has a game today. He'll be here tomorrow and Sunday." I smiled. This week had gone really well. His family was absolutely lovely, his mother was the sweetest and his father was welcoming. His siblings were hilarious and fun to be with. It was nice to experience that with Christopher. I felt included and loved by everyone. It was nice having family time. I hadn't experienced that in a really long time, and I had missed it. "His family will be coming with him too."

"So the parentals?"

"Yeah, and his siblings." He just nodded his head, looking ahead and remaining quiet for the rest of the time until we were called to start the interview. This interview was a bit different from the ones we had previously done before, we would be asking each other questions that fans had about us.

Halfway through the interview, everything had gone well. We had asked each other about music taste, our morning routines, etc. We both knew most of the answers to these questions, but many things were new to us as well. He learned that I started playing a little piano a few years back. I learned that he searches himself on Google, mainly to interact with his fans. The final question was what threw me off the most. "What advice would you give you give to your younger self?"

"Maybe, believe in myself a little more," Charles began. "Starting off your career can be difficult to believe in yourself. Being with a very strong opponent, you start to question yourself on what you should improve. But, yeah, I should have believed in my abilities and in what I could have done a little more." Nodding my head, it made sense. He always had many insecurities about his ability. Without a doubt, he is one of the top drivers I have seen and will probably ever see. But his insecurities have set him back a little. From the moment I met him, it was obvious who was the better driver, and he got quite put down after I kept on betting him in every race. It wasn't because of me being a woman or anything like that, it was because he thought his losses were because of him and his faults or inabilities. He blamed himself over the littlest things, which did affect his outcome. But he eventually picked up after I pointed it out. "And you?"

There are so many things younger me needs to heal. "Listen more to my dad and Jules. They were just about 100% correct with everything they told me."

"Yeah, they were," he agreed.

"I guess it was just that father and brother nature where I would rebel against them in a way." I really miss them. I felt a knot form in my throat. No, no. Not here. I felt the cards in my hands began to shake and my body began sweating. Relax, relax. My heart started beating excessively and loudly so that the microphones hanging above our heads could hear it. Breathe in and out. I saw Charles' head turn slightly as his eyebrow rose slightly. Help me.

"I guess we both never listened to our fathers or brothers," he chuckled. Get me out of here, Charles. "Done. Thank you very much. It was lovely having this chat with you, Valentine." Valentine.

"My pleasure, Charles," was all I could say. Once I heard the thank you from the cameraman and director, I quickly headed out the door. I could hear distant footsteps falling behind me. Please, follow me. Rounding the corner I found a small alley where no one could see me.

"Val?" Charles. "Valentine? Where are you?"

I started to hyperventilate, searching for air that was available to me but I was unable to take it in. "Hey, hey, hey. Look at me." I felt his hands cup my cheeks, but I couldn't concentrate. Everything started to go pitch black. Charles, where are you? I found myself searching for him, my conscience knew he was right in front of me, but my mind wouldn't let me see him. Charles, I need you.