'You and me, got a whole lot of history'
- One Direction
The skyline was tinted with a range of orange hues, from the shoreline to the line where the sky met the sea. The upper corners, where the stars hung low were still holding on desperately to the navy darkness of the night. She sat silently under the eave of the roof, gazing into the silence of the cold morning, contemplating the decisions she had made already. The season was set to start in a month, and yet, rather than practicing and going over some last minute tweaks she chose to hide away.
Her phone screen went off with a new notification. Marcus.
'He must be losing his mind', she thought the obvious. Irish was supposed to be in Qatar by now, meaning her flight was yesterday. She was ready to leave, or so she thought. the girl had been sitting outside her beach house for hours on end. Suitcase resting next to her hammock. She saw the moon rise and drown behind the sea, and through all that she stayed still, immobile.
It was only the incessant ringing of her device, that she decided it had been enough. And without bothering to answer she got off of the hammock and left.
Irish Parker
Five hours after my departure to the one place I could call home, I found myself at Doha. Passport in one hand and my suitcase in another, I stood still at the exit point, unable to move.
"For fuck's sake." I scoffed at my own incompetence. It had been enough. I had an hercule amount of unanswered calls from Marcus. I pitied the man at times, to work with me was to look after a toddler and a teenager rolled in one. Not that I acted the way I did on purpose. Some things, for me, are essential. To say the least, I thrive in the chaos I create. As long as the ends justify the means, it was enough. My phone went off one more time. Jesus Christ, was I in hell.
"Hel-"
"WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN? IRISH PARKER-"
Okay, deserved. Though a warning would've been nice from his side for the sake of my eardrums.
"I THOUGHT YOU DROWNED. WHERE ARE YOU?"
He took the effort to throw along some more questions (and curses) along my way before finally letting me answer.
"I'm at the airport, send me the address."
"I'll do that. This was very irresponsible of you Irish, I hope you realize that. Drop your bags and come to the conference room as soon as possible."
I hung up without waiting in case the man found another reason to scream at me (he, in fact, had plenty.)
This year, this season, we were apparently sharing tracks with the Formula drivers. Some charity drive, or so they said. That adds on to the plethora of problems I had.
It didn't take her long to reach her destination, navigating past the efficient traffic, Irish soon found herself in the hotel room. After a quick change of clothes she scurried down to the conference room, clearly late. She greeted the security team outside before showing her ID, only then was she allowed in.
"Apologies for the delay, I missed my flight." she said, announcing her presence. Although the moment she lifted her eyes to meet the people, she froze in her steps. She had expected this to happen, just not so soon.
Max. Max Verstappen.
Her brows furrowed for a moment, and the glint that previously existed in her eyes disappeared. Her teammate, Miguel, noticed the subtle shift in the atmosphere. "Irish, fashionably late, as always." His comment managed to drift her out of the memory lane. "Hey now, I apologised already." A few chuckles were heard here and there as she made her way past to sit next to her teammate. Thankfully, they hadn't proceeded too far along.
"So I believe all of you already have a brief understanding of why we're here," Beirer began, her team principal. Horner was also there along with both the drivers. Irish was practically too invested in averting her gaze from the man in blue to pay any actual attention to what was going on. At some point she had zoned out, staring so aggressively at the napkin in front of her, mindlessly scribbling on the notepad with the pencil in her hand. Miguel hit her knee with his under the table, causing her to almost lose balance and nearly topple.
"My, my... save those limbs Irish. We've just got you back." Christian said, intending to throw out a joke, but the stiffness of her expression sent enough of a message.
"Well, so apart from the promotional events there will be a lot of filming taking place so there have been slight changes in your schedules. Let's stick to them. For once."
Shit.
She grumbled upon the realization that she had snoozed her way through the entire meeting. Miguel gave her a smile accompanied by a subtle roll of his eyes. He'd brief her later. Great. That's what teammates are for anyway.
"Alright then, rest up for the day. We'll hopefully meet again at the team dinner."
Everyone then got up to leave, leaving behind the drivers to mingle a bit. Marcus, however, did go the extra mile to glare at Irish, who in return managed to not so subtly flip him off as she scratched her jawline.
"So Irish, are you doing okay? You seemed pretty dazed earlier." Checo asked, enticing a slight chuckle from her. "Yeah man, I'm good. It's just the..." she stumbled over her vocabulary in search of the appropriate word, a synonym, anything. Her eyes briefly met Max's, who was surprisingly already looking at her, or stealing glances perhaps. Instantaneously, they both looked away. By then she had lost track of her conversation with Checo. "Uhh sorry I, I'm a tad bit hazy..." she said.
"Jet lag."
She looked up again as he spoke up.
"You're probably jet lagged."
He looked her right in the eye. With a slow nod of her head, she sucked in a deep breath and stood up. "Excuse me I uhh I- yeah, I should-yeah..."
She sprinted out of the conference hall and to the elevator waiting down the veranda.
Gosh, how am I gonna survive?
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Shay's Note:
Hey guys! We're down one chapter. I'll be very honest I have absolutely nothing planned out in my head for this story and I'm making it up as I go along TT
This will be something like, if you hadn't figured it out yet, an enemies to lovers of sorts. And goddamn writing fanfiction is difficult. To get the dialogue right is really something haha
Well, I'll take my leave now and I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter <33
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Vague | MV1 x (fem)OC
Fanfiction"I'm Irish..." "I'm Dutch." The two racers find themselves pitted against each other, not only on the track, but also in the arena of their personal lives. Both of them determined to prove their supremacy in their respective disciplines. Caught in...
