All of my Fandoms have a Blog Topgun: @Callsign-Mongoose MacGyver: @Paperclipped-mongoose Marvel: @The-masked-mongoose Val Kilmer: @Kilmer-mongoose Ted Lasso: @therichmondmongoose Formula 1: @tracksidemongoose
I was in the shower. Listening to music. And I was wondering why I started thinking about Shayne Topp. Now I get it, so I made this video and I had to share.
I was in the shower. Listening to music. And I was wondering why I started thinking about Shayne Topp. Now I get it, so I made this video and I had to share.
Hi guys! I'm trying to gage intrest. If I did a "Formula 1 Drivers as 5SOS Songs" leading up to the album release of Everyones a Star, would yall like it?
If you haven’t read chapter 5, you can find that Here!
If you are looking for the Master List, you can find that Here!
Pairing: Carlos Sainz Jr x OC (Elena Vasilakis)
Summary: For more than a decade, Formula 1 has kept them in orbit. Carlos Sainz Jr. is chasing wins, contracts, and the weight of expectation. Elena Vasilakis is building her dream career behind the pit wall, one strategy call at a time. From DAMS to Ferrari, they grow side by side but never in step, always the right people, never the right time. Until...
Disclaimer: MDNI. These are Fake Instagram Posts and Text Messages to farther encourage world building of the fic.
Authors Note: This SMAU takes place after the Fifth chapter. The way I create my SMAU's is they will usually give a deeper insight to a characters motivations, more than what was just given in the chapter! If you have any additional types of media you think could be good down the line feel free to DM or Comment! Along with the website I should use to make said fake media screen shots.
YALL, THIS IS THE LAST DAMS ERA SMAU! THERE ARE GOING TO BE RELEASES ALL THIS WEEK GOING INTO THE TORO ROSSO ERA! ENJOY!
Summary: For more than a decade, Formula 1 has kept them in orbit. Carlos Sainz Jr. is chasing wins, contracts, and the weight of expectation. Elena Vasilakis is building her dream career behind the pit wall, one strategy call at a time. From DAMS to Ferrari, they grow side by side but never in step, always the right people, never the right time. Until...
Disclaimer: MDNI.
Author Note: I feel like there isn't enough Carlos content fics wise. This is my attempt to remedy that! So this will be a SMAU x Long Form Fic mix. A Smau between every chapter!
See the masterlist for AOTA here.
ENJOY!! Please comment and like! It makes me all excited for people to enjoy something as much as I do!
June 2014
Elena was halfway through brushing her teeth when Cami’s voice carried down the hall.
“Your taxi’s here!”
Foam clung to the corner of her mouth as she called back, muffled, “I told you I can walk!”
Still, she padded barefoot into the front room, hair a frizzy mess around her face, toothbrush hanging from her lips. She was already preparing to wave off some confused driver at the door.
Instead, Carlos was leaning in the doorway. Keys dangling from his hand, a grin tugging at his mouth as his eyes flicked over her half-ready state.
“Wow. You really dress up for your chauffeurs.”
Elena froze, then she made an undignified noise, spun on her heel, and darted back into the bathroom. Cami’s laughter rang after her echoing in the hallway.
By the time she emerged properly, her hair yanked into a braid, toothpaste sting still sharp on her tongue, Carlos was sprawled across the sofa arm like he’d been waiting all morning.
“I didn’t ask for this,” Elena muttered, snatching her tote bag she used for work off of the counter top.
“You didn’t have to,” Cami said sweetly, phone still in her hand. “I mentioned last night you were going to walk because I needed the car for errands, and someone got very insistent that wouldn’t do.”
Elena narrowed her eyes at Carlos who was fiddling with a coaster that was on the coffee table. “You volunteered?”
He shrugged, standing and jingling his keys as if to say it was time to go, maybe because he didn’t wanna talk more about it. “What can I say? I've got excellent service and I’m always on call.”
The car smelled strongly of leather, it must have been new, or Carlos put effort and care into his car. Both were equally as likely because he was a formula driver. Elena slid into the passenger seat, clutching her coffee like a shield. This was ridiculous. It was just a ride. A favor. Nothing worth the stupid flutter at the base of her throat.
Carlos had music on low, something fast and bright, his fingers tapping on the wheel in easy rhythm. It was… fine. Normal. Until Elena reached out and changed the station without asking.
The speakers hummed to life with something softer, gentle music that was almost too soothing for eight in the morning. Perhaps she was just trying to push his buttons.
Carlos cut his eyes toward her as he raced down the road. “Really?”
“You don’t like it?” she said, feigning innocence watching the console.
“I didn’t say that.” His hand still tapped the wheel, and Elena pretended not to notice the way his mouth twitched like he was fighting a smile.
Her chest ached with a kind of giddiness she wasn’t used to. Boys didn’t just… show up for her. They didn’t go out of their way. But here he was, making it feel like the most normal thing in the world to drive her across town, as if she mattered. She pressed her lips together, trying to smother the smile tugging at them.
Outside headquarters, he slid the car into a parallel temporary spot with infuriating precision. Elena raised an eyebrow, masking her nerves in sarcasm.
“Not bad. Almost like you’ve done this before.”
He shot her a sideways grin, fighting off the urge to humbly brag about his driving career. “Almost.”
She lingered with her bag in her lap, the door of his sports car ajar into the warm morning air. “Are you not coming in?” Elena looked back at him, it was intimate, the car was low to the ground and the seats were close. She could smell orange blossom and bergamot, it was too light for cologne and didn't smell like his normal spray he put on after driving. She refused to believe he just smelled like that naturally so she made the assumption it was his soap.
“I figured I’d drop you off. Don’t want anyone to give you a hard time, I’ll park and see you inside, yeah?” Carlos offered her an easy smile, like saying ‘Anyone giving you a hard time’ didn’t mean that he assumed people would think they were together.
“Oh got it,” She stepped out of the car and bent over to look at him in the driver's seat, “Thanks Carlos.”
He didn’t respond to her gratitude, instead just smiling, “Same time tomorrow?” he asked, light, but hopeful.
Her pulse skipped and she desperately wanted to roll her eyes, to pretend she didn’t care. Instead, the answer slipped out before she could stop it. “Fine. Tomorrow.”
The grin he gave her was quiet, soft, like he’d just won something he wasn’t going to brag about. Elena closed the door before her face could betray her, bag clutched tight to her side.
The morning air was cooler than she expected for the middle of summer, sharp enough to dry the back of her throat, but it did nothing to settle the warmth crawling up her neck. She told herself it was just a ride, that it was just Carlos being Carlos. No reason for her stomach to feel like it was full of carbonated soda, fizzing over.
Still, as she walked up the steps to headquarters, she caught herself pressing her lips together, fighting the smile that kept wanting to escape.
God. She was acting like a girl who liked a boy.
And that terrified her almost as much as it thrilled her.
July 2014
By the time Carlos knocked on the door to the flat he was about twenty minutes late, the tv was already buzzing from the living room and the show had already started.
It had become an accidental weekly thing, Gabe and Laura had been talking about their favorite show “The Inbeweeners” non-stop one afternoon during icecream. That turned into the group ending up at Cami and Elena's shared flat watching the first episode, after Gabe ran home to get his boxed DVD set.. Since then, every Thursday evening, the group gathered at the apartment to watch an episode or two.
Cami opened the door at the top of the shared apartment stairs with a dramatic flourish, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “About time, Chico. We thought you were at una gran fiesta de fórmulas, since you are technically famous and all.”
Carlos grinned, leaning in the doorway and holding up a plastic bag with a liter of Fanta and a multipack of crisps. “What, you think I would miss all this?”
From the livingroom, settled on the floor with a fluffy blanket on her lap, Elena called to him without looking away from the screen, “You’re late, we are already half way through the episodes for tonight.”
“That’s alright, I couldn't let everyone go hungry now could I, Princesa?”
It brought a laugh from the group that sat crowded on the sofa. When Carlos explained the nickname to everyone almost two weeks ago, it had become a running joke. Especially since it bothered Elena.
“Oh, Carlos” Gabe called as the driver put the snacks down on the dining room table, “Laura’s not here tonight so she said we aren't allowed to watch past episode 5. She wants to be here when we watch the season finale.”
It didn’t take long for the “movie night” to derail, after episode 5 credits rolled, Cami paused the DVD and announced she had something planned now that they were finished. Making the group wait on the couch, she ran to get the surprise from her room, it was an old Wii console she and Elena had scored secondhand.
Emilio groaned, already going to the tv to start connecting wires, “Does it even work?” He worked with the team tech sector, so he knew Cami would offload the struggle of getting it connected, onto him.
“Better than your concentration at the garage,” Cami shot back, already untangling cords and passing them to him.
The setup was chaos. The remotes refused to sync, the TV flickered blue, and Gabe kept holding his controller backwards. Emilio read the instructions out loud to deaf ears while everyone else shouted advice over him.
As the 4 (and Gabe, who was dedicated announcer) were calling dibs on controllers Elena glanced at Carlos, who was pouring himself more fanta, with a smug smile as she secured her controller in her hands, “You were late. You get the bad controller.”
He crossed the room in two strides and plopped down behind her on the couch, his fanta forgotten on the table. He tugged the remote straight out of her hands. “Then I’ll take yours. Problem solved.”
Elena blinked, lips parting like she might protest, then closed her mouth again, rolling her eyes instead. I’ll get my revenge during the game.
By the time the first round of Mario Party 9 finally started, the Wii console whirred like it was holding its breath. The screen was bright with cartoon colors, and the living room was a battlefield. There were cushions tossed on the floor, empty soda cans rattling on the coffee table, and four controllers clutched like weapons.
Cami shrieked at every unfair roll, throwing her arms in the air. “That is rigged. I want a refund.”
“You can’t refund Mario Party,” Emilio said solemnly, though his face was flushed with laughter. He hunched over his controller like it contained state secrets. “There’s probability involved, you wouldn’t understand-”
Gabe cut him off, dropping into a booming broadcaster’s voice. “And the young strategist falters under pressure! A shocking development for the underdog!” He threw himself sideways against the couch cushions, narrating like it was prime-time television.
Carlos barely glanced at them. He was ruthless, smirking every time he swiped coins or stars, leaning back like a king surveying his kingdom. “Too easy,” he murmured when he stole another star, which earned a chorus of groans.
Elena pretended not to care. She sat cross legged on the carpet, one hand lazily flicking her controller, expression unreadable. Until Carlos took her star. Then her façade cracked and she snapped upright, eyes blazing, unleashing a stream of muttered Greek that sounded like curses even if no one understood them. “Πώς τολμάς να πάρεις το αστέρι μου.”
Carlos caught the sound, head tilting. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing,” she said quickly, “Just… revenge. You took my star earlier, so now I’ve taken yours.”
“Not fair,” he teased, leaning off the couch slightly towards her spot on the ground. “You say it in Greek, I can’t even argue. You’re terrifying.”
Her cushion hit his shoulder before he even finished the sentence.
It escalated during a mini game, the chaos bubbling over. The four players yelled over each other, half playing, half shoving. Cami reached for Emilio’s controller and Emilio ducked. Gabe rolled off the couch dramatically, shrieking commentary about each of the moves for sabotage.
Elena lunged for Carlos, εκδίκηση.
Her fingers brushed plastic just as the blanket slipped under her knees. She stumbled, momentum carrying her forward until she landed half across his lap. Her palms pressed against his chest to steady herself, her knees bracketing his thigh.
No one noticed. The room was still in chaos.
Except Carlos froze. For a beat, his body forgot what to do. His brain screamed to move. Say something, shove her off, laugh it away. But all he could register was her weight against him, the curve of her hip beneath his hands where instinct made him catch her. He dropped the controller without a fight, surrendering instantly.
Elena’s breath caught, the contact was too much, too sudden. His hands lingered just long enough on her waist to spark thoughts she didn’t want- ones she couldn’t think about. Not now. Not with him. Her stomach flipped, giddy and unsettled all at once.
She yanked the controller free and scrambled upright, cheeks burning. “Got it!” she announced, too loud, like she hadn’t just practically crawled into his lap. She held the controller up confidently, then out of sheer desperation she immediately targeted Carlos’s Yoshi on screen, wrecking his chances in the mini game.
“Seriously?” he croaked, his voice uneven, unstable. He grabbed for the blanket beside him, tugging it across his lap as casually as he could manage. “That’s cheating.”
“Strategic,” she shot back, completely avoiding his eyes.
Carlos said nothing else. He pressed his lips together, eyes narrowed on the game, but his mind wasn’t in it anymore. The mini-game ended, Gabe hollered about Emilio’s failure, Cami threw another cushion, Elena tossed his remote back to him on the couch and Carlos barely registered it. He was still caught on the ghost sensation of her weight against him, the hand that had caught her hip, flexing and relaxing next to him. The scent of her shampoo was still faintly clinging to his shirt.
Elena, meanwhile, doubled down as the game continued, she went cutthroat in every round, targeting Carlos with an almost petty persistence. “Oops,” she said flatly when she sabotaged him again, as if it wasn’t on purpose. “Guess you should’ve guarded your coins better.”
“Oops,” he muttered back, more to himself than to her, tugging the blanket higher.
The others laughed and yelled, oblivious. The noise filled the room, but under it, something quieter hummed, like a chord strung tight, neither of them willing to pluck it.
The game wound down eventually, though not without more shrieking, jeering, and half serious accusations of cheating. When Gabe finally declared he was retiring from professional commentary and flopped across the rug like a fallen soldier, Cami clapped her hands.
“Alright, high performance athletes. We have officially destroyed friendships, demolished trust, and Emilio still thinks math can save him. Movie time? Or are we done for the night?”
A chorus of groans rose, Emilio muttered something about needing to salvage his pride tomorrow. Gabe was already scrolling his phone, muttering about the last bus, how he couldn't miss it. They started gathering cans and plates, a lazy cleanup routine setting in.
Elena busied herself stacking cups from the table, movements sharper than necessary. She didn’t trust her face. Every time she thought back to the slip, the weight of his hands on her waist, her knee pressing against him- heat rushed up her neck. She focused on the clatter of plastic, the scrape of cans into the recycling, anything to keep herself from remembering his sharp breath when she fell.
Carlos lingered by the couch, folding the blanket like it was an Olympic event. His usual swagger had dulled, now he was quiet, almost studious, smoothing each corner until it was a perfect rectangle. He kept his gaze down, so if anyone noticed, they’d just think he was tired. No one would know he was covering, just hiding the fact his heartbeat hadn’t slowed, that the image of her sprawled across him replayed every time he blinked.
“You don’t have to do that,” Elena said quickly, too quickly, when he started gathering snack wrappers from the coffee table.
He glanced at her, dark eyes unreadable, then shrugged. “Helps me sleep,” he lied, voice low, Very smooth, qué significa eso?
Cami yawned dramatically, leaning against the doorframe. “You two are too responsible. Just leave it… future us can deal with it in the morning.” She didn’t wait for agreement, already nudging Gabe and Emilio toward the hallway with a mock sergeant’s bark. Then, tossing a look over her shoulder towards Elena and Carlos, who seemed to be stuck in a stalemate by the couch.
Within minutes, the apartment quieted. Shoes clattered at the door, goodnights were exchanged, and the others disappeared.
Elena and Carlos were left alone for the briefest moment, the silence thick after all the chaos. She clutched the stack of cups tighter, staring at the sink across the small apartment. He adjusted the folded blanket one more time, like the act might anchor him.
“Night,” she said finally, forcing lightness into her tone.
“Night,” he echoed, softer than he meant to.
Then he left, keys jingling, door clicking shut, Elena exhaled bracing both hands on the counter. She told herself it was fine. Just a game. Just an incident. Just her overthinking. But her pulse wouldn’t calm, and the ghost of his touch lingered.
Carlos, meanwhile, tugged his jacket tighter against the night air, walking faster than usual. He needed distance, cool air, anything to quiet the restless stir that still alive in his chest.
If you haven’t read chapter 3, you can find that Here!
If you are looking for the Master List, you can find that Here!
Pairing: Carlos Sainz Jr x OC (Elena Vasilakis)
Summary: For more than a decade, Formula 1 has kept them in orbit. Carlos Sainz Jr. is chasing wins, contracts, and the weight of expectation. Elena Vasilakis is building her dream career behind the pit wall, one strategy call at a time. From DAMS to Ferrari, they grow side by side but never in step, always the right people, never the right time. Until...
Disclaimer: MDNI. These are Fake Instagram Posts and Text Messages to farther encourage world building of the fic.
Authors Note: This SMAU takes place after the Third chapter. The way I create my SMAU's is they will usually give a deeper insight to a characters motivations, more than what was just given in the chapter! If you have any additional types of media you think could be good down the line feel free to DM or Comment! Along with the website I should use to make said fake media screen shots.
Summary: For more than a decade, Formula 1 has kept them in orbit. Carlos Sainz Jr. is chasing wins, contracts, and the weight of expectation. Elena Vasilakis is building her dream career behind the pit wall, one strategy call at a time. From DAMS to Ferrari, they grow side by side but never in step, always the right people, never the right time. Until...
Disclaimer: MDNI.
Author Note: I feel like there isn't enough Carlos content fics wise. This is my attempt to remedy that! So this will be a SMAU x Long Form Fic mix. A Smau between every chapter!
See the masterlist for AOTA here.
ENJOY!! Please comment and like! It makes me all excited for people to enjoy something as much as I do!
June 2014
Friday afternoons became a small tradition among the interns. It didn’t matter what schedule you were on, or what sector you were in, every Friday, the interns would gather after work and go get ice cream. It was like going to the bar except it was told to them on day one of the internship, that if they were seen publicly intoxicated or being a nuisance that their internship would not lead anywhere but back to campus and square one. So in favor of keeping the opportunity that they all worked so hard to get, they opted for the sweeter option. Ice cream.
There were about nine interns total this season working for the 3.5 circuit DAMS team. So they took up a picnic table and a full bench outside the shop. As the sun was starting its descent, the green and white striped canopy of the store did nothing to stop the light from hitting Elena's eyes as they waited for Gabe and Laura to arrive. Laura worked in the finance division which required her to stay a little longer, which meant no leaving early for her, and Gabe offered to wait for her, even if he worked in the garage. The group was happy to wait though, it made for more time to talk.
“So what are we thinking for tonight?” Emilio asked leaning back on the handrail of the bench, “I was thinking maybe bowling but unless we did two lanes, nine people playing one game would take forever.”
“Ten people actually.” Cami corrected, “Maybe, we will see if he can make it.” She avoided the look of suspicion she was getting from Elena, instead looking to Emilio. “I invited Carlos. I hope that is okay with everyone.”
She got some looks of confusion, but Cami continued, “He is our age, I am certain it must be strange not to have many similarly aged people around you at your place of work.” She reasoned, “So now he gets to hang out with us. Plus, he seems lonely.”
Elena let out a snort from her spot sitting on top of the picnic table, forearms leaned on her thighs, "Lonely? I find that hard to believe, that boy could use that spanish charm he has to make friends in a hall of statues.”
Thank goodness no one else had time to question her analogy because Gabe and Laura came walking up onto the curb with Carlos in tail. They were all chatting and laughing about something.
“Hey, look who we found on our way here!” Gabe said, patting Carlos’s shoulder, as they joined in the group.
“¡Viniste!” Cami bounced on her toes smiling, “Yes, Carlos, you’ve already met Gabe and Laura, but this is Emilio, Hunter, Darrius, Alex-” she pointed down the line of friends standing in a half circle near the shop, “-then of course Sage, and Elena.” She hummed, “I’m glad you ended up coming.” Cami glanced at the rest of the group. “He was in doing media today and I mentioned ice cream.”
Carlos spread his hands in mock innocence. “She didn’t exactly give me a choice. ‘Come or you’ll regret it,’ I think were her exact words.”
Hunter snorted. “Sounds about right.”
“Don’t believe her threats,” Darrius added, standing up from the bench. “They’re empty. The worst she’ll do is post an embarrassing picture.”
“Still effective,” Carlos said, lips twitching into a warm genuine smile. “No man wants that.”
The group laughed, the half-circle loosening as they began drifting toward the counter. Emilio nudged Alex with his elbow as if to tell him to order first. “Okay, but serious question. What’s your order, Carlos? This is a loyalty test.”
“Yeah,” Laura chimed in, “choose wisely or you’ll be exiled.”
Carlos pressed a hand to his chest, feigning gravity. “A test of character, and all I wanted was dessert. Dios mío.” He leaned toward Sage trying to mask his whisper poorly. “What’s the correct answer?”
Sage smirked, giving him a coy shrug. “There isn’t one. No matter what you pick, someone’s going to judge you.”
“Excellent,” Carlos said, falling into step with them, holding open the door to the shop. “That means I can pick chocolate without shame.”
“Chocolate?” Gabe groaned as he wandered in. “That’s so basic.”
“It’s classic,” Carlos shot back, watching him walk by. “You all are going to be jealous when you’re stuck with pistachio regret.”
That set off a flurry of protests and mock arguments as the group spilled into the shop, Carlos slipping among them as easily as if he’d been there from the start. Once inside he settled in a spot next to Elena as they all waited, looking at the menu before ordering.
“So what do you usually get?” He asked leaning over without taking his eyes off the menu, trying to decide between the two types of chocolate that were available. Or maybe he’d switch it up and go for a vanilla with caramel. Warm and smooth.
Elena lifted an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Pistachio.” She said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Carlos just blinked, “Pistachio?” He forced a laugh, silently praying she wasn’t paying attention moments ago but he wasn’t that lucky. “Ah… the… classic. Yeah, of course. Everyone likes pistachios.”
Elena tilted her head slightly, clearly amused. “You said pistachio tasted like regret.”
Carlos felt heat creeping up his neck. “Well… uh… I meant-” He waved a hand awkwardly. “I meant like going out on a limb and getting something out of the ordinary.”
Elena smirked as they moved forward in line, “So pistachio counts as exotic now?”
Carlos chuckled, a little too quickly. “No! I mean, yes! I mean… it’s definitely… fancy. Sophisticated. I respect that.” He immediately regretted how flustered he sounded. Smooth, Carlos. Really smooth.
Elena laughed softly, giving him a look that was part teasing, part knowing. “Don’t worry. I won’t hold it against you that you were trash talking my favorite flavor.”
Carlos’s grin returned, confidence quick to rebuild. “Noted. Pistachio: untouchable. Got it. Lesson learned.”
After regrouping outside once all the orders were fulfilled and paid for, they sat in whatever spots they could on the small patio. Laura licked the side of the cone where it was dripping onto her hand, Hunter waved his spoon as if to say I told you that you should have gotten a bowl. Between conversations with mouths half full and savoring the end of the week treat, the topic of plans came up again.
Gabe spoke up, “So had we decided on plans or anything? Or is ice cream all we are doing tonight?” He asked, “And please tell me we aren't mini golfing again. I’m sick of getting stuck behind Emilio when he putts, he takes way too many strokes.”
“Well we were going to go to the Bowling Alley but we’d have to split into two lanes.” Alex spoke up, handing Elena the cone so she could taste the new Superman flavor ice cream.
“What about the arcade? Isn’t Leo’s open till midnight? And it’s right around the corner.”
The idea was immediately approved of with a chorus of hums in agreement. “Perfect! It’s settled, we can go spend the night playing games at the arcade.” Cami declared as she tossed her empty cup into the trash can. “Are you guys able to walk and eat? Or should we wait until you finish your ice cream?”
Elena stood up from the bench, biting into the edge of her cone. She started around the little railing and down the sidewalk, “I can walk and eat.”
Gabe grabbed her shoulder, turning her around to point her down the road in the other direction, “Arcades that way Lena.” He said chuckling, “Note to everyone, we don’t let Elena hold the map during our road trip back to campus yeah?”
As the group wandered, Carlos kept pace, just about staying in the middle. He was almost buzzing, he had never been to a proper arcade before, beyond the little ones he went to when he was about 5 for friends birthdays, but he couldn't remember more than just flashing lights.
“So who’s going to challenge Carlos to a racing game?” Alex asked as they rounded a corner onto a new street. There were a couple laughs and general acceptance but everyone knew he was gonna lap them, so long as the game was realistic.
The arcade was all bright lights and game sounds, buzzing and music. As Elena passed by the prize counter she stopped dead in her tracks grabbing Cami by the arm. “What. Is. That.” She said pointing to one of the shelves behind the counter.
“Santa Pelusa.” Cami gasped following her best friend's gaze.
A large rotund stuffed hamster sat back on the shelves, he was so fluffy he barely had a face. Elena looked at it in awe for a brief moment, “Yep, yep I don’t care how long it takes, I am winning that stuffed animal.” She declared turning to the rest of the group who were busy getting tokens. 2000 Tickets shouldn’t be that hard right?
Gabe whistled as he gathered his tokens into a small plastic cup. “That’s some serious dedication.”
Hunter laughed, shaking his head. “Better start practicing your claw machine skills for the ticket claw machine.”
Carlos leaned on the side of the token machine, smirking quietly, “Or, you know, we could make this more interesting.”
Elena raised an eyebrow, “Oh? And what did you have in mind?”
He gestured toward a nearby racing game. “You. Me. Right here. First to the finish line. The loser has to buy more tokens for your stuffed animal ticket fund.”
Elena laughed, stepping up beside him, moving to settle into the racing seat putting in the tokens. “You’re on. But I get a head start.”
The group gathered around the two side by side racing games, some placing small bets on who would win.
As the game began, Carlos’s competitive streak immediately showed. He leaned forward, tongue just barely peeking out of concentration, fingers flying across the controls. Elena, hands gripping the wheel a little too tightly, leaned into the turns even if the game was stationary.
She wasn’t a total stranger to racing, her brother did karting, and that had taught her precision and anticipation, but she wasn’t a professional. Her movements were calculated, careful… competent enough to keep up, but far from expert.
Carlos noticed her form immediately, a smile tugging at his lips. Not bad… She's no total newbie. Still, this isn’t the real thing. Gotta give her a fair shot, and she really wants that stuffed animal.
He eased back just slightly as they approached the first curve, letting her take the inside line. She surged ahead, laughing triumphantly. “See! You can’t stop me!”
“Not for long,” Carlos murmured under his breath, leaning back in the seat, not letting his mind linger on her all too much. Okay… maybe I’ll ease off a bit more. Let her feel like she’s in the lead. Could be fun.
Elena’s eyes shone with delight as she navigated the chicanes, feeling a thrill at holding her own against him. The group cheered louder, some chanting her name. She glanced over at Carlos, catching him grinning faintly, clearly holding back. “You’re going easy on me!” she accused eyes shifting for a split second to his screen, to him, seeing him so relaxed.
“Maybe,” he admitted, voice low enough that only she could hear, “maybe I am… a little.”
For a moment, it seemed she might actually take it. Her confidence soared, and the hamster at the prize counter flashed through her mind as motivation. But as they rounded the final turn, Carlos’s instinct kicked in, he leaned forward. Every fraction of a second mattered, and he floored it, passing her just before the finish line. Elena let out a dramatic groan, waving her hands at him.
Carlos leaned back against the plastic, letting out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “Victory,” he declared, though there was a warmth in his eyes that softened the triumph.
Elena shook her head, laughing and brushing imaginary dust off her shoulders. “You total show-off. I never had a chance.”
“Maybe next time,” he said, smirking.
Elena barely had time to catch her breath from the racing game before she spotted the DDR machine across the arcade floor. Her eyes lit up. “Your turn to lose,” she announced, gripping at his forearm to drag Carlos toward it.
He chuckled, a little nervous as he stumbled after her forceful tug. “You’re serious? Fine. Prepare to be amazed.” He flexed, preparing to channel years of forced dance performances for his family with his sisters. Confident, he strutted up to the machine like he owned it.
It only faltered some when Elena flicked through the modes and songs like a pro, leaning back against the bar. The music started and the arrows scrolled upward. Carlos moved with smooth precision, hips and feet coordinating instinctively. He was fast, sharp, and focused. Dancing was in his blood, Spanish hips.
And then Elena started.
Her movements were deliberate but fluid, a surprising combination of natural rhythm and sheer focus. Her brother had done karting, but up until Elena was 12 she was in dance classes, by her mothers request. She only stopped after her father started taking her to her brother's races as additional pit help.
Carlos glanced at her, eyebrows shooting up. What the…? She was keeping pace, better, in some sequences, even ahead. His confident grin faltered.
“Impressive,” he said through clenched teeth as she nailed a tricky double-step combo. “Wait- where did that come from?”
Elena smirked, eyes flashing with mischief. “Years of secretly playing with both my older and younger brother. You think you’re the only one who practiced?”
Some of the group cheered around them, calling out encouragement, others had wandered to other games, but it was mostly a blur to Carlos. He was focused, every fiber of him pushing to keep up. And yet… she was laughing, grinning, clearly enjoying the chaos.
When the song ended, Elena’s score flashed across the screen. Carlos’ jaw dropped. “No way. You- how-”
Elena threw up her hands, triumphant. “That’s how it’s done Κύριος σίγουρος. Respect the turf.”
Carlos shook his head, laughing in disbelief. “I am afraid you just wrecked me.” He paused before tilting his head. “Rematch?”
“No need,” she said, stepping back with the easy confidence of someone in her element. “I think you got the point. We can Null and Void our bet, we both won one, lost one, we’re even..” She hummed picking up her cup of coins. “I have a pile of tickets to get if I ever want to bring home Mr. Fluffy over there.” She was eyeing the stuffed hamster like a prized trophy. “But, it was fun, Sainz.”
Carlos laughed, conceding gracefully but secretly impressed, a spark of admiration glimmering in his eyes. Okay… she’s dangerous. In a good way.
He bounced between a few different couplings of the friend group. Having a chat and a laugh with each, playing a few rounds of whatever they were playing, then collecting the tickets and moving onto the next group. He had found a particular special skill in a timing game, where your goal was to get all of the red balls into one of the rotating buckets. Had to get all 40 of them in, without missing any of them, to win the jackpot.
It was practically just reaction time practice, something Carlos was very good at. It only took about 5 tries to get a perfect run. The lights flashed and tickets poured out of the machine as the screen flashed ‘Jackpot’. The tickets became a pool at his feet that he was actively trying to fold up neatly into pairs of two. There must have been 700 tickets there, because by the time he had finished, his fingers were sore. He tucked the stack into his pocket as he moved onto the next game, ensuring to get some more tickets. None of the others paid as much as the jackpot, but by the time he had gotten to Cami in his little trot around the arcade, he had two additional loops of tickets around his shoulders.
“Someone’s having fun.” Cami hummed, tossing a ski-ball up the ramp and into the 1000 point hole.
“Thanks for inviting me, I like hanging out with you guys. It’s normal in the best way. No work or racing involved, unless you count the racing games in the corner.” Carlos said fiddling with the stack of tickets in his pocket.
“Yes! Of course Carlos, you can come to anything we've got planned, “Eres uno de nosotros.” She patted his shoulder, “Oh, have you seen Lena? I wanna see how close she is to getting that hamster, she can be so stubborn sometimes.”
Carlos shook his head but glanced around, “Elena? No, I haven't seen her since she out danced me in that one game.” He said chuckling, “I was gonna go get some soda anyway, so I can find her and get back to you.”
“Eres incredídle Carlos” Cami shouted over her shoulder as another ball went up the ramp and into the 4000 point hole.
Elena had given up on most of the other games, only focusing on the ones that statistically gave you the most tickets per play. She had a good pile. Solid. It sat at her feet at every game she played, slowly growing as she played more games, but she had yet to count them all. Her estimation? Probably 1200? Maybe, if she was lucky. She had a ways to go.
That is what brought her here, feeding coins into the claw machine that contained rings of tickets, ranging from 50 to 500. She had won once already, just 100 tickets, but it was better than nothing. Her fingers fumbled slightly as excitement and concentration tangled, picking up another ring of an unknown amount of tickets, bringing it towards the collection chute.
Carlos came around the corner of the machine. Watching the excitement on her face as the claw neared the chute. He leaned over just a bit, his hand brushing hers- or maybe he intended to- before placing a thick stack of tickets into her hand, gently, like an offering he didn’t want her to acknowledge.
It only took a second for Carlos to give up on the whole ‘not wanting her to acknowledge it’ thing, instead he spoke, “For… uh, Señor Fluffy’s adoption fund,” he said, closing her fingers around the tickets gently.
Elena froze for a heartbeat, certain for a fleeting second that he had been going in to hold her hand. She blinked down at the stack, heart thumping just a little faster than it should. Wait… tickets. Not… oh…
Carlos gave her a teasing grin. “See? Sponsorship included.”
She let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “Ah, so now you’re funding my obsession. Very generous of you.”
To avoid the thick tension between them, Elena carefully bent down to pick up her pile of tickets, carrying them to the counter. Carlos followed with what she couldn't fit in her arms. After a tedious 10 minutes of feeding the strings of tickets into the machine, she watched as the counter ticked closer to 2000. Printing the final ticket number she glanced at Carlos, dragging him with her to the ticket counter with a triumphant grin. The worker took the hamster off the shelf and handed it over. “Mission accomplished,” she declared, holding him up for approval.
After introducing the newly dubbed Señor Fluffy to the rest of the group, Elena mentioned being finished for the night. Cami and Laura tried to convince her to stay, but the exhaustion from the day was slowly creeping up and Elena knew she needed to shower and get some rest. “No no, just because I’m tired doesn’t mean you guys have to leave! Stay, have fun, I can make it home, I promise.”
Carlos stood just off to the side some, but spoke up when he heard the opportunity. “I’ll walk you back to your flat. It’s on my way to headquarters where my car is parked,” he said smoothly, though Carlos, Cami, and Laura all knew it wasn’t, and neither of the girls bothered correcting the truth, and Elena likely didn’t know better.
After saying goodbyes to the others, Carlos and Elena stepped out of the arcade and into the quiet night of the busy town. “I really would be okay walking home alone Carlos.” She tried again, tugging at her sleeve as he automatically took the outside of the sidewalk.
He protested, guiding them around a corner in the right direction. Cami had told him the cross streets of the flat she and Elena shared, and once he got her to the block, Elena would know how to get home. “No no no, it is nighttime, and the streets are dangerous, Princesa.” His tone was firm but teasing, as if that settled it.
Elena froze mid-step, almost dropping her new prized possession. “Excuse me?”
Carlos glanced at her sidelong, unbothered. “Princesa. It suits you.”
Her brow furrowed, half amused, half defensive, her steps started again but slower. “That’s… not a name you just call people, you know.”
He grinned, keeping the pace she was setting so he stayed even with her “I was looking up name etymology. Did you know Cami’s last name, Duarte, means ‘wealthy protector’? Fitting, right? Always defending people.” Always defending Elena, obviously, they were best friends. He let the comment hang, casual, as though it explained everything.
Elena’s suspicion sharpened. “And mine?”
Carlos only shrugged, feigning innocence. “I went hunting for that one. You are Greek so it came from the word Basileios, which means royal. So… Princesa.”
Her lips pressed into a line, fighting back the smallest curve upward. “That is a ridiculous stretch, you know.”
“Not a stretch,” he countered easily. “A fact. You can look it up yourself. I get bored before I get in the car, so I just go looking for things online.”
She nodded quietly, feigning pity “Oh poor Carlos, nothing to do while we all work our butts off prepping your car for the track.” Elena rolled her eyes as they passed under a street light. “I would bet money that you don’t pay enough attention to your crew's behaviors that you couldn’t change your own tire.”
It was Carlos’s time to stop. “Excuse me? I pay attention.”
“Mm, sure you do.” She lifted a brow, enjoying the moment. “Do you even know how chaotic the pit lane gets when two cars stack? Do you notice when they swap the front wing, or do you just assume the car magically feels better again?”
His mouth opened, then closed, then tilted into something closer to thoughtfulness than indignation. “I… notice some of it,” he admitted. “But I never thought about it like that. You make it sound like a whole battle back there.”
“Because it is,” Elena said simply, walking closer to Carlos so a pedestrian could pass them on the inside before returning to her normal distance. “Every second matters. They’re fighting as hard as you are in the cockpit. You just get the camera on you.”
Carlos walked a few steps in silence, hands shoved in his pockets, and Elena thought she’d ended the conversation. Perhaps she had said too much… he didn’t deserve to get called out like that. Especially after how nice tonight had already been. Now she just had to go and ruin it. He paid attention and she knew it, the nuances were just a part of the big picture.
But then he glanced at her sidelong. “Maybe I should start paying more attention. Maybe even get my hands dirty once in a while. A good driver should know the car as well as he drives it.”
That earned him her full attention. She hadn’t expected him to actually listen. “You’d really do that?”
“Why not?” he shrugged as they crossed over a cross walk. “Engines, tires, bolts… it’s all part of the same world. And if you understand what your team is fighting with, maybe you respect them more. Maybe you drive smarter, and that ultimately makes me a better driver.”
For the first time, she softened, just a little. “That was my world before this. My older brother used to race karts in Athens, and I was on his mechanic squad. I think I was twelve when he let me hold the jack for the first time. I was too small to really lift it, but I swore I could.”
Carlos grinned at the image. “I can see that. Little Princesa, arms shaking, refusing to quit.”
She shot him a look, but there was no real bite in it this time. “I grew up by the sea, too. We used to race near the coast sometimes, between sessions I’d just run straight into the water with oil still on my hands.” Elena was mumbling and diverting from her train of thought as she kicked a stone off the path. “I miss that, being near the beach. My university now is landlocked, so the closest I get is the campus fountain.”
Carlos nodded slowly, surprisingly serious again. “Summers were like that for me. I live in Madrid, well, my family does, that's where I grew up, but we had a beach house on the coast of Portugal in Cascais. It was always sand, water, sun. My sisters and I would race bikes down the streets until my mother yelled, then sneak to the shoreline to cool off. Everything felt like competition, it was always who could pedal faster, who could swim further.” He smiled faintly. “I guess that never left me.”
Her pace slowed as she looked at him, caught off guard by how candid he’d gone. She supposed it was an even trade, both getting to learn something personal about the other. But, she still liked it, liked knowing the real side of him, not the driving prodigy aimed for the stars.
He seemed to sense it, lightening his tone just enough. “You know, the beach is only a couple of hours from here. Before you go back to university, we should go. We could have a bonfire, swimming, racing down the sand.” He paused before clarifying, or maybe adding so she didn’t think that he meant just them. “The whole crew of interns.”
Elena huffed a laugh, partly to cover how much the idea struck her. “You’re very sure of yourself, planning everyone’s off-days.”
“Someone has to,” Carlos said, giving her an easy grin. “Besides, Princesa, I think you miss the waves more than you want to admit.”
He wasn’t wrong… she wouldn’t be going back home to Greece until Christmas minimum, and it would be far too cold to swim and enjoy the beach by then.
Elena had autopilot on the way back, once she recognized the street she had led them directly to the door of her second story flat that she shared with Cami. She took a step up onto the small front stoop, it only gave her an inch or two, but that was enough to make him at eye level. She fumbled with her keys trying to unlock the door, “You didn’t have to walk me all this way, you know. You’re going to get lost going home.” The key finally turned and she cracked the door open, then turned back to face him.
Carlos shrugged, watching her attempt to unlock the door, the keys jingled until he heard the door click open, “It was worth it. I’ll survive a little walking.” When she turned around he hadn’t expected her to be on even ground with him, looking into her big brown eyes, pupils blown wide trying to catch all the street light possible. He cleared his throat and nodded, “Good night, Elena.” His voice was a whisper, just for her.
She seemed to match his volume, with a quiet, “Good night, Carlos.”
For a beat too long, neither of them moved. His eyes lingered on hers, and in the soft halo of the streetlamp she swore she could see the smallest flicker of hesitation cross his face. He shifted his weight, leaning forward like his body wanted to bridge the distance, just a step, just enough to close the gap. But then his jaw tightened, and he rocked back again, steadying himself.
Elena’s fingers curled around the edge of the door. Her chest ached with something she couldn’t name, and before she could stop herself, she whispered again, “Good night.” This time it was almost a sigh. She slipped inside, the door catching softly behind her.
Carlos lingered on the stoop, staring at the grain of the wood as though he could still see her through it. He scrubbed a hand over his face and exhaled sharply, muttering under his breath, “Estúpido.” Then he turned and started down the street, every step away from her heavier than the last.
Inside, Elena leaned against the door, her heartbeat a wild, erratic rhythm. She pressed her forehead to the wood, biting her lip to keep from smiling and groaning at once. For a wild second she spun and cracked the door open again, only to find the street empty. He was already gone.
She closed it gently this time, sinking against it in the quiet of the flat. Maybe next time.
If you haven’t read chapter 2, you can find that Here!
If you are looking for the Master List, you can find that Here!
Pairing: Carlos Sainz Jr x OC (Elena Vasilakis)
Summary: For more than a decade, Formula 1 has kept them in orbit. Carlos Sainz Jr. is chasing wins, contracts, and the weight of expectation. Elena Vasilakis is building her dream career behind the pit wall, one strategy call at a time. From DAMS to Ferrari, they grow side by side but never in step, always the right people, never the right time. Until...
Disclaimer: MDNI. These are Fake Instagram Posts and Text Messages to farther encourage world building of the fic.
Authors Note: This SMAU takes place after the Second chapter. The way I create my SMAU's is they will usually give a deeper insight to a characters motivations, more than what was just given in the chapter! If you have any additional types of media you think could be good down the line feel free to DM or Comment! Along with the website I should use to make said fake media screen shots.
Summary: For more than a decade, Formula 1 has kept them in orbit. Carlos Sainz Jr. is chasing wins, contracts, and the weight of expectation. Elena Vasilakis is building her dream career behind the pit wall, one strategy call at a time. From DAMS to Ferrari, they grow side by side but never in step, always the right people, never the right time. Until...
Disclaimer: MDNI.
Author Note: I feel like there isn't enough Carlos content fics wise. This is my attempt to remedy that! So this will be a SMAU x Long Form Fic mix. A Smau between every chapter!
See the masterlist for AOTA here.
ENJOY!! Please comment and like! It makes me all excited for people to enjoy something as much as I do!
CHAPTER 2 BABYYYYYY! Enjoy Carlos being a lost puppy.
Summer 2014
The doors were impossible to open when his hands were full, so Carlos had to fidget, moving his hip to the key scanner, where his driver pass was sitting in his pocket. When the light flashed green he moved to bump the handicap accessible button so it would automatically open the door.
He shuffled into the wide lobby of the Red Bull building, it was mostly glass, windows to the outside with an open concept until you got upstairs. Carlos didn’t linger though, instead he headed towards the desks where the three receptionists sat. He would have called them the three fates, should it have not had a negative meaning. But, nonetheless, that is practically what they were. They knew everyone who walked through those doors, and knew much of the business that went on inside of the building. “Buenos Dias Ladies, I stopped for coffee on the way here this morning. Thought you three may like some?”
Sage, the youngest of the three fates, smiled up over her computer monitor. “That is very nice of you Carlos. You are always thinking of us, every time you come in for testing you are bright and warm.”
“He doesn’t come in often though.” Sarah hummed, taking a coffee from the holder before clacking away at her keyboard for a few moments, “Yeah, here, I didn’t see your name on the schedule Carlos. Not scheduled for media until Friday.”
Damn atrapó, “I don’t have to be at the track until noon, so I thought I'd pop in.”
Popping in, yeah, that was totally normal. A totally normal thing for a driver to do. Carlos definitely wasn’t focused on trying to get contact information for Elena. Absolutely not, that would be unprofessional. But, on the other hand, it would be more unprofessional to ask her first hand, so going through the channels was the right thing to do, right? Oh now I’m confused.
“He wants something,” Scarlett warned as she stapled a stack of papers together. The woman, who had salt and pepper hair and was deadly focused on her physical files, wasn’t entirely wrong. “Even if he is winning us over..”
Carlos was overtaken by his usual smile, warm, suave, like he was trying to serve you a home cooked meal that was also somehow served on a 24k gold plate. “Can a driver not just come by and talk to his favorite reception girls?” He paused, “Fine… you caught me.”
If you can’t beat em, mislead em.
He leaned against the edge of the table, placing Scarlett's coffee on the desk before tossing the drink carrier in the nearest bin. “I am in charge of a coordination effort for the interns, I volunteered myself. I need to be able to put them all in a group chat, so I need their numbers.” Carlos was lying through his teeth, but he wasn’t just going to come out and say that he was scared to ask Elena because he didn’t want her to know how much he thought about her. How he wanted to know more about her, even if he was just catching glimpses through the tire stacks while she effortlessly chatted with her fellow interns.
“Coordination huh?” “What kind of event are you coordinating?” “Carlos, really?” All three practically responded in sync.
“I, well, it’s a surprise party, one of their birthdays. You know. Planning committee and all.” He ran a hand through his hair effortlessly, trying to suppress the color that was flushing his face.
Sage hummed typing into her laptop for a moment, “Well, it says Mel, Principle Drio’s assistant is already putting in request forms for birthday stuff, so I can loop you in on her emails? I wasn’t aware of any birthdays coming up? Most of our birthdays are in the winter, I think.”
“No! No… no that won’t be necessary. I can uh, just go talk to her myself?” He paused, jaw slack for a brief moment, Why did Sage have to be an intern? Of course she was close with the other interns. Shit. “I’m assuming she is outside Jean-Pauls office, yes?” Carlos didn’t wait for an answer, just waved goodbye then turned to climb the stairs.
After Carlos was out of earshot Scarlett laughed quietly, “He thinks we can’t tell when it is about a girl.”
Carlos walked down the second floor hall to a waiting room that guarded an office door. The waiting room had a desk, one that Mel had decorated for her own. He flopped down in one of the chairs and shot her his easy smile. “Mel, you know how nice your name is? It means Honey, right?” Perhaps he was laying it on thick, but if Mel didn’t give it to him, he didn't know where else to go.
The woman looked up with a quirked eyebrow quietly, “How did you know that? Did you look it up?”
He chuckled and after a moment came up with a satisfactory answer. “I sometimes do searches on word etymology when I am bored. I go for coworkers' names usually, more fun that way.” His eyes shifting to the clock he noted the time, 9:23, he had time, just had to be on the track by noon.
“Fun… yeah okay Sainz. Anyway, what can I do for you? Jean-Paul is in a meeting, do you need to talk to him about something?”
Carlos nodded, then shook his head, “No, I don’t need to speak with Jean-Paul, I was actually coming to see if you could give me the phone number of an intern.”
Mel didn’t look amused or confused, but instead like this was a daily occurrence, telling people no that is. “I can’t do that Carlos, as an intern she is technically not an employee.” She said working through some stuff on her computer.
“Please?” What would require him to be texting her… Qué? QUÉ? “She doesn’t always check her emails, a phone call is more efficient.” He shifted his hand squeezing the small ID card in his pocket, it dug into his fingers as he waited for an answer.
“Well then it sounds like she needs a laptop or to download her mail app on her phone. I’d love to help you Carlos… but I can’t. Your best bet is to confront her about the emails head on, or talk to the intern supervisor. But they won't give you her number either. Company policy.”
Even sulking, he still had that shoulder pulled straight posture that most envied. Carlos bit down on the inside of his cheek to keep from snapping. “Of course, emails. Efficient. Yes. Great.” He glanced at the clock on the wall again. Only three minutes had passed. “That is okay Mel, thank you, I appreciate you.” He pushed off of the chair and cleared his throat.
“Oh Carlos!” Mel called from the desk, he whipped around hopefully, “I’d recommend the media room, word tends to travel fast.”
What? He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion but kept trekking down the hall. Wandering between offices and different sectors of the Red Bull headquarters. Checking in the logistics center, scanning for any information, or for Elena’s head to be bobbing through the cubicles. She had mentioned being shifted to every faucet of the company during her internship, so there was always a chance she’d be nearby.
As he passed the water cooler he noticed a paper that was posted on the wall with a thumb tack. This week's schedule for the logistics workers, so he tried to steal a glance. Elena. Elena. Elena. Elena. He scanned down the shift list to no avail, she wasn't on there.
Why can’t you just be a man and ask? You know exactly why.
He wandered around the building for nearly two hours, checking in with Mel and the Fates to see if any of them had changed their mind about letting him grab the contact information. Only for him to be shoed off with smiles and laughs.
“Please? What if, and hear me out, you give me her number, and if anyone asks, you say I stole it from your desk? Then technically, you didn’t break policy.” He flashed the grin, but his toe tapped heavily on the polished floor, giving him away as he stood in front of Sage’s desk.
“Ohhh, I see how it is,” she said, eyes narrowing. “You’re not asking for my number, you’re asking for Elenas. That hurts a little, Sainz.” She pressed a hand to her chest dramatically, then tilted her head, studying him like she could read the truth off his face.
When he opened his mouth, she cut in, grinning, “Don’t even try to deny it. You are walking around here like a lost puppy trying to get an extra treat for being good. It’s either Cami, who I’m pretty sure you’ve never met since she’s in media, me, Elena, who I know has worked in the garage with you, or Laura, who I promise, you are not her type.” Sage went back to typing like it was nothing, like it was no big deal that she just read him like a book.
Sage leaned back in her chair, a sly smile tugging at her mouth. “You want Elena’s number so bad? Try media.”
Carlos blinked. “Media?” Is this what Mel was talking about earlier?
“Yes, ask for Cami, she is… well there aren’t really words to describe Cami.” Sage said, shaking her head, “But she’s also the most likely to give you what you want.”
Carlos gave her his best sigh, turning to wander back up the stairs for what felt like the millionth time but Sage just smirked at him until he was out of sight, before she picked up her phone to give Cami a heads up.
He pushed open the door to the filming centre and started to scan. He was rarely up here unless it was to film content, and filming days looked much different than it did in its current state. There was a mess of backdrops, computers, and tv screens showing possible formatting for the shoot planned for Friday.
Probably would have been smart to find out more describing features than just a nickname huh Carlos. He wasn’t too familiar with everyone in the room, though he did know a couple from working closely on media days. Eyes scanning the room he tried to put a face to the name Cami, but to no avail.
“Are you lost?” A woman appeared next to Carlos with a knowing glance, she was brunette and short, she barely came up to his chin, but she had the energy of someone who could command a room, bring it to its knees. Good for media. “Oh, you aren’t lost, you are Sainz.”
He tried to flesh out if this was Cami for a moment before nodding, “I am… and you are Cami?”
“Camila Duarte. But yes, Cami. You know, word travels fast in this building. Everyone knows you've been sniffing around for her number.”
Carlos put his hands up slightly, “Hey, you do not know that for sure. Maybe I just like long walks around the office?”
“Sure. And I just love filing every piece of video we have of you into dated timeslots.” She crossed her arms, not buying it. “Look, you want Elena’s number, just ask her. She’s not scary.”
He flashed his grin, cocky but not denying it. “That’s what you think.”
Cami rolled her eyes, but she was smiling now. With a theatrical sigh she dug her phone out, scribbled a number on a sticky note, and then slapped it against his chest. “Elena no necesita un príncipe azul.”
Of course Elena’s best friend is Spanish, I’ll never get away with anything ever again. Carlos split into a wider grin, hand grasping the sticky note with a grip like he was worried it would be whisked away by the air conditioning. “Menos mal, porque nunca he sido un príncipe… Tengo el pelo para eso, ¿no?”
“Get out of here, don’t you have a track to race around on?” Cami shook her head, turning back to the pile of camera extension cords she had been sorting, leaving Carlos to his own devices as he practically bounded down the hall.
That wasn’t so bad.
He walked down the stairs two at a time, wanting to get to the car so he could make sure the number didn’t get lost. It was burning a hole in his pocket as it was, and engraining itself into his brain. Passing by the fates he waved then disappeared into the parking lot, a proud smile on his face, Chapter 2: Operation Number
The doors were impossible to open when his hands were full, so Carlos had to fidget, moving his hip to the key scanner, where his driver pass was sitting in his pocket. When the light flashed green he moved to bump the handicap accessible button so it would automatically open the door.
He shuffled into the wide lobby of the Red Bull building, it was mostly glass, windows to the outside with an open concept until you got upstairs. Carlos didn’t linger though, instead he headed towards the desks where the three receptionists sat. He would have called them the three fates, should it have not had a negative meaning. But, nonetheless, that is practically what they were. They knew everyone who walked through those doors, and knew much of the business that went on inside of the building. “Buenos Dias Ladies, I stopped for coffee on the way here this morning. Thought you three may like some?”
Sage, the youngest of the three fates, smiled up over her computer monitor. “That is very nice of you Carlos. You are always thinking of us, every time you come in for testing you are bright and warm.”
“He doesn’t come in often though.” Sarah hummed, taking a coffee from the holder before clacking away at her keyboard for a few moments, “Yeah, here, I didn’t see your name on the schedule Carlos. Not scheduled for media until Friday.”
Damn atrapó, “I don’t have to be at the track until noon, so I thought I'd pop in.”
Popping in, yeah, that was totally normal. A totally normal thing for a driver to do. Carlos definitely wasn’t focused on trying to get contact information for Elena. Absolutely not, that would be unprofessional. But, on the other hand, it would be more unprofessional to ask her first hand, so going through the channels was the right thing to do, right? Oh now I’m confused.
“He wants something,” Scarlett warned as she stapled a stack of papers together. The woman, who had salt and pepper hair and was deadly focused on her physical files, wasn’t entirely wrong. “Even if he is winning us over..”
Carlos was overtaken by his usual smile, warm, suave, like he was trying to serve you a home cooked meal that was also somehow served on a 24k gold plate. “Can a driver not just come by and talk to his favorite reception girls?” He paused, “Fine… you caught me.”
If you can’t beat em, mislead em.
He leaned against the edge of the table, placing Scarlett's coffee on the desk before tossing the drink carrier in the nearest bin. “I am in charge of a coordination effort for the interns, I volunteered myself. I need to be able to put them all in a group chat, so I need their numbers.” Carlos was lying through his teeth, but he wasn’t just going to come out and say that he was scared to ask Elena because he didn’t want her to know how much he thought about her. How he wanted to know more about her, even if he was just catching glimpses through the tire stacks while she effortlessly chatted with her fellow interns.
“Coordination huh?” “What kind of event are you coordinating?” “Carlos, really?” All three practically responded in sync.
“I, well, it’s a surprise party, one of their birthdays. You know. Planning committee and all.” He ran a hand through his hair effortlessly, trying to suppress the color that was flushing his face.
Sage hummed typing into her laptop for a moment, “Well, it says Mel, Principle Drio’s assistant is already putting in request forms for birthday stuff, so I can loop you in on her emails? I wasn’t aware of any birthdays coming up? Most of our birthdays are in the winter, I think.”
“No! No… no that won’t be necessary. I can uh, just go talk to her myself?” He paused, jaw slack for a brief moment, Why did Sage have to be an intern? Of course she was close with the other interns. Shit. “I’m assuming she is outside Jean-Pauls office, yes?” Carlos didn’t wait for an answer, just waved goodbye then turned to climb the stairs.
After Carlos was out of earshot Scarlett laughed quietly, “He thinks we can’t tell when it is about a girl.”
Carlos walked down the second floor hall to a waiting room that guarded an office door. The waiting room had a desk, one that Mel had decorated for her own. He flopped down in one of the chairs and shot her his easy smile. “Mel, you know how nice your name is? It means Honey, right?” Perhaps he was laying it on thick, but if Mel didn’t give it to him, he didn't know where else to go.
The woman looked up with a quirked eyebrow quietly, “How did you know that? Did you look it up?”
He chuckled and after a moment came up with a satisfactory answer. “I sometimes do searches on word etymology when I am bored. I go for coworkers' names usually, more fun that way.” His eyes shifting to the clock he noted the time, 9:23, he had time, just had to be on the track by noon.
“Fun… yeah okay Sainz. Anyway, what can I do for you? Jean-Paul is in a meeting, do you need to talk to him about something?”
Carlos nodded, then shook his head, “No, I don’t need to speak with Jean-Paul, I was actually coming to see if you could give me the phone number of an intern.”
Mel didn’t look amused or confused, but instead like this was a daily occurrence, telling people no that is. “I can’t do that Carlos, as an intern she is technically not an employee.” She said working through some stuff on her computer.
“Please?” What would require him to be texting her… Qué? QUÉ? “She doesn’t always check her emails, a phone call is more efficient.” He shifted his hand squeezing the small ID card in his pocket, it dug into his fingers as he waited for an answer.
“Well then it sounds like she needs a laptop or to download her mail app on her phone. I’d love to help you Carlos… but I can’t. Your best bet is to confront her about the emails head on, or talk to the intern supervisor. But they won't give you her number either. Company policy.”
Even sulking, he still had that shoulder pulled straight posture that most envied. Carlos bit down on the inside of his cheek to keep from snapping. “Of course, emails. Efficient. Yes. Great.” He glanced at the clock on the wall again. Only three minutes had passed. “That is okay Mel, thank you, I appreciate you.” He pushed off of the chair and cleared his throat.
“Oh Carlos!” Mel called from the desk, he whipped around hopefully, “I’d recommend the media room, word tends to travel fast.”
What? He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion but kept trekking down the hall. Wandering between offices and different sectors of the Red Bull headquarters. Checking in the logistics center, scanning for any information, or for Elena’s head to be bobbing through the cubicles. She had mentioned being shifted to every faucet of the company during her internship, so there was always a chance she’d be nearby.
As he passed the water cooler he noticed a paper that was posted on the wall with a thumb tack. This week's schedule for the logistics workers, so he tried to steal a glance. Elena. Elena. Elena. Elena. He scanned down the shift list to no avail, she wasn't on there.
Why can’t you just be a man and ask? You know exactly why.
He wandered around the building for nearly two hours, checking in with Mel and the Fates to see if any of them had changed their mind about letting him grab the contact information. Only for him to be shoed off with smiles and laughs.
“Please? What if, and hear me out, you give me her number, and if anyone asks, you say I stole it from your desk? Then technically, you didn’t break policy.” He flashed the grin, but his toe tapped heavily on the polished floor, giving him away as he stood in front of Sage’s desk.
“Ohhh, I see how it is,” she said, eyes narrowing. “You’re not asking for my number, you’re asking for Elenas. That hurts a little, Sainz.” She pressed a hand to her chest dramatically, then tilted her head, studying him like she could read the truth off his face.
When he opened his mouth, she cut in, grinning, “Don’t even try to deny it. You are walking around here like a lost puppy trying to get an extra treat for being good. It’s either Cami, who I’m pretty sure you’ve never met since she’s in media, me, Elena, who I know has worked in the garage with you, or Laura, who I promise, you are not her type.” Sage went back to typing like it was nothing, like it was no big deal that she just read him like a book.
Sage leaned back in her chair, a sly smile tugging at her mouth. “You want Elena’s number so bad? Try media.”
Carlos blinked. “Media?” Is this what Mel was talking about earlier?
“Yes, ask for Cami, she is… well there aren’t really words to describe Cami.” Sage said, shaking her head, “But she’s also the most likely to give you what you want.”
Carlos gave her his best sigh, turning to wander back up the stairs for what felt like the millionth time but Sage just smirked at him until he was out of sight, before she picked up her phone to give Cami a heads up.
He pushed open the door to the filming centre and started to scan. He was rarely up here unless it was to film content, and filming days looked much different than it did in its current state. There was a mess of backdrops, computers, and tv screens showing possible formatting for the shoot planned for Friday.
Probably would have been smart to find out more describing features than just a nickname huh Carlos. He wasn’t too familiar with everyone in the room, though he did know a couple from working closely on media days. Eyes scanning the room he tried to put a face to the name Cami, but to no avail.
“Are you lost?” A woman appeared next to Carlos with a knowing glance, she was brunette and short, she barely came up to his chin, but she had the energy of someone who could command a room, bring it to its knees. Good for media. “Oh, you aren’t lost, you are Sainz.”
He tried to flesh out if this was Cami for a moment before nodding, “I am… and you are Cami?”
“Camila Duarte. But yes, Cami. You know, word travels fast in this building. Everyone knows you've been sniffing around for her number.”
Carlos put his hands up slightly, “Hey, you do not know that for sure. Maybe I just like long walks around the office?”
“Sure. And I just love filing every piece of video we have of you into dated timeslots.” She crossed her arms, not buying it. “Look, you want Elena’s number, just ask her. She’s not scary.”
He flashed his grin, cocky but not denying it. “That’s what you think.”
Cami rolled her eyes, but she was smiling now. With a theatrical sigh she dug her phone out, scribbled a number on a sticky note, and then slapped it against his chest. “Elena no necesita un príncipe azul.”
Of course Elena’s best friend is Spanish, I’ll never get away with anything ever again. Carlos split into a wider grin, hand grasping the sticky note with a grip like he was worried it would be whisked away by the air conditioning. “Menos mal, porque nunca he sido un príncipe… Tengo el pelo para eso, ¿no?”
“Get out of here, don’t you have a track to race around on?” Cami shook her head, turning back to the pile of camera extension cords she had been sorting, leaving Carlos to his own devices as he practically bounded down the hall.
That wasn’t so bad.
He walked down the stairs two at a time, wanting to get to the car so he could make sure the number didn’t get lost. It was burning a hole in his pocket as it was, and engraining itself into his brain. Passing by the fates he waved then disappeared into the parking lot, a proud smile on his face, Operation: Number. Complete. Now he just had to decide what to do with it.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
The sticky note burned in his pocket all day, until he finally stuffed it in his phone case like a sacred relic. By the time he slid behind the wheel of his own car, he leaned back and let out a long breath, smiling like he’d just pulled off the cleverest overtake of his career. Smooth, effortless, calculated. Classic Carlos.
Only… now he had the number. And having it was different than using it. His thumb hovered over his phone like it might explode. He opened a new message. Typed: Hola, Elena, this is Carlos. You probably know me from the garage. I just thought- No. He deleted it before he even finished. Too formal.
He tried again. Hey, I’m the guy who just watches you work. You looked busy today, but maybe- Delete, delete, delete. Too weird.
Another attempt. Do you like paella? What? He shut the screen off, mortified.
For a second he just stared at the glowing lock screen, gripping the phone like it might fly out of his hands if he relaxed. Smooth, Carlos. Real smooth.
Finally, after a full ten minutes of drafting, erasing, and cursing himself out, he took a breath, opened the message box again, and typed exactly one word:
Hola.
Then three more.
This is Carlos.
Then he threw the phone into the passenger seat like it might bite him back before she even read them, instead focusing on driving home.
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