Minefield of Mirrors

-36-

While holding a cup of tea in her hands, Iris was sitting at her kitchen table at her little apartment in London. She was simply staring outside where the rain was falling from the sky. It was England after all. It had been five days since she had left the track in Saudi Arabia, and although it still felt a bit weird to be back in her apartment with literally no goal at all, it somewhere felt nice as well. Back in the hotel, she had written a quick letter to Linsey saying that she didn't abandon her, but that she was in an agreement with Christian to take the next month off. And that as part of the deal, she couldn't be in touch with anyone in the team.

After everything the girls already had done for her, she just couldn't leave without saying anything. She wrote how much she loved every individual of them and that she was looking forward to when she was back at the paddock or factory and could finally meet them again.

On a little sticky note, she had also asked Linsey if she could tell Mick and Lando that she had an emergency and therefore wasn't at the track for a little while. Iris stroked with her finger the green stone of the bracelet she had received from Mick. Inner beauty, was one of the things it was representative of. Well, she hoped that Mick was able to forgive her for disappearing like that. She never meant anything like this to happen.

She took a sip of the teacup. Well, a lot of what happened up there wasn't supposed to happen. She wasn't supposed to trick the star driver of the team. And she definitely wasn't supposed to be confused by his touches and actions. Iris started to wonder how Max would take the news that she wouldn't be present for the upcoming time. Would he be relieved that there was no one standing up against him any more? Would he be sad and miss her? Or would all of his feelings be suppressed as he just won the second race of the season?

Yes, Christian told her to take a step back from everything work-related, but he didn't specifically tell her to not watch the broadcasts of the race weekend. During interviews, Iris had noticed how happy Max seemed to be with his win. There wasn't a little hint of sadness to be seen.

Iris shook her head. What was she even doing? Was she hoping for him to be sad that she had left? Why would her head even come up with this kind of shit? Her head should be stuck with the kindness of Mick and all of his gestures. He was the sweetest person on earth and he really took care of her during the time she was present at the track. Then why was her mind going back time after time towards Max?

It was obvious she needed to do something. Her hands itched to do something. Yet, after working non-stop for months, she had no clue what she even wanted to do with her spare time. What did she use to do before she got lost in her master's and work? She dug into her mind and thought back. Her brain stopped at the moment she and Thomas had a fling. Ross. Her nickname. It was the key to it all.

She got up from the chair and walked to the little storage closet that was hidden in the hallway of her apartment. Slowly she removed some stuff until her paintbrushes were visible again. A smile appeared on her face. 

That was it. 

Painting. 

She used to paint along with videos of Bob Ross, the famous landscape artist.

A happy feeling spread through her body. Even though she still felt tired, she couldn't wait to unpack all her painting supplies from her storage. She needed to have a look at it all and feel the spark of being creative again. Not creative with numbers or routines, but with the colours of the paint. Jules had told her that it was important to find out who she really was without her work. What did she stand for? What did she have to offer without her career? Seeing all the paint, a little part of her heart started to beat again after a long silence.

Ross.

She used to be a little Ross.