Call me Peas! Microwavable Peas if you are feeling formal.
I write about people who drive too fast and feel too much. None of it’s real, but it should be.
I love chatting about writing, racing, or anything in between. Come say hi through Yap With Me!
Check Out the Links Below to find my other Masterlists for my projects!
▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄
Main Projects
🏎️ Ahead of the Apex (CS55 x OC {Elena V} Series) (In Progress)
Always the right people, never the right time. Ahead of the Apex is a slow-burn racing saga following Carlos Sainz and Elena Vasilakis. Two members of the F1 world who can never escape each other because the universe seems to always lead them back.
→ Click Here
🎸 5SOS Songs as Drivers Series (Completed)
Leading up to the new album drop. A group of drivers is reimagined and aligned to a 5 Seconds of Summer Song. Including explanation and mood boards!
→ Click Here
🎁 Secret Santa 2025 "Equal Or Greater Value" (Lestappen)
A Secret Santa Fic Gift! Christmas was Charles favorite time of year, and he had spent months crafting the perfect gift for Max. Max on the other hand had to wait until the reminder of Christmas slapped him across the face to remember that he needed to get Charles a gift. He is determined to find the perfect gift that is of equal or greater value than Charles gift to him.
→ Click Here
▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄
If you’ve made it this far, you’re officially part of the pit crew.
Writing might happen alone, but stories don’t live that way. Every reblog, tag ramble, and ask you send keeps the garage alive, and I’m endlessly grateful for this pit crew of readers, writers, and F1 enjoyers who get it.
I truly truly believe that the most important thing you can do in fandom is be a cheerleader. comment on fics. reblog art and rave in the tags. support the people making the things you want to see. this is how you keep a fandom alive. this is how you get more of what you want. you never know: that person could have decided to make more just because you liked it.
Summary: 2021 was the year that nothing stopped moving, from excessive race responsibilities to a flaming rivalry things felt like they didn’t slow down.
Author Note: So here’s my Delma. My computer for some reason is choosing not to attach to my iPhones hotspot recently (I think I fucked it up by getting on a new plan.) so I’ve been having to make everything on my phone which means limited texts (I’ve been relying on Instagram DMs) and a max of 10 photos. So that’s why the dividers are gone. Over the summer I’m traveling a lot so I rely on the hotspot, so for now I apologize for the limited smau sections. And the slow updates. Hence why I’m taking next week off to try to solve the problem.
Summary: 2021 was a year that went by incredibly fast and slow at the same time. With the battle for the WDC between her team and her original rookie Elena felt as if it never slowed enough to breath. 3 snapshots of races that summarize the 2021 season.
Disclaimer: MDNI. 2021 WDC battle. Fear of abandonment.
Author Note: Haha so once again I put off my polish and assembly of the post. So here we are! We will also be taking a break so no chapter next week! Sorry y’all. Maybe if you are interested I’ll do a little fun Q&A?
ENJOY!! Please comment and like! It makes me all excited for people to enjoy something as much as I do.
Monaco GP, 2021
The suitcase never really got unpacked.
Elena would unzip it just enough to pull out another team polo, another pair of jeans, another charger she'd sworn she'd put somewhere else. Laundry cycled through the washing machine between flights, folded only if she had time, shoved back into the same black suitcase before the next airport.
Home.
Airport.
Hotel.
Circuit.
Airport.
Home.
Repeat.
Somewhere along the way, the weeks stopped feeling like weeks. Countries blurred together through airplane windows and paddock gates, every Monday spent recovering from the last race while preparing for the next one. The calendar never slowed down long enough for her to realize another month had disappeared.
She'd spent three months in her apartment, making it feel like home. Making it her space that she had moulded to be the perfect place for her to rest.
Morning light spilling across hardwood floors. A kitchen stocked with coffee she actually liked instead of whatever the hotel happened to offer. A place where she could leave her shoes by the front door and know they'd still be there when she came back.
She finally had it in France, and she was almost never inside it.
Even Toro had started taking it personally.
The orange maincoone met every arrival with the same unimpressed stare, tail flicking sharply against the floor before following her from room to room like he was conducting an inspection of his own home. He sniffed the suitcase with obvious disdain and then climbed inside it the moment she emptied it then refused to move.
It was less a protest and more a declaration.
You're not leaving again.
"I'm home," she murmured, scratching beneath his chin.
He blinked once, completely unimpressed by her claim that clearly wasn’t true. At that point Max’s home was more home to Toro than her own place.
Twenty-four hours later, she was kneeling beside that same suitcase, folding another set of Mercedes shirts into neat stacks while Toro watched from the bed with narrowed green eyes.
"I know," she sighed before he could silently accuse her again.
He turned his head away, and the judgment he gave felt like it was earned.
Monaco, the fifth race of the season, was different. For once, the airport wasn't followed by another hotel. She was driven home after media day by a Mercedes chauffeur (the crowds were deemed unsafe by the driver for her to walk the two miles home).
Home.
She unlocked the apartment door just after sunset, greeted by the familiar scent of coffee beans she'd forgotten she'd left on the counter and Toro's impatient meow echoing down the hallway before she even had both shoes off.
She laughed as he wound around her ankles, nearly tripping her on the way to the kitchen. "Missed you too αγοράκι.”
The shower was hotter than any hotel she'd stayed in all year. Her pajamas were warm from the dryer as she slipped them on, shuffling to her balcony to sit and drink her evening tea, which she was convinced tasted better out of her own mug.
When she finally climbed into bed, the mattress didn't feel unfamiliar beneath her. It hadn’t been obvious to her until now, that sleeping in beds that weren’t hers, were almost more exhausting.
It felt normal. A little dip on the far side of her mattress told her Toro decided to come to bed aswell. And just like always, he found the little spot behind her knees when she was laying on her side. It was annoying on occasion but it was his favorite spot so who was she to say no. Elena fell asleep to the gentle sound of the town outside and Toro purring under the blankets.
When Sunday came the garage buzzed with restrained optimism before the lights went out.
By the time the checkered flag fell, Red Bull erupted. Max had won his second race of the season.
The podium stood tall and proud, Carlos on the second step, and Lando climbed onto his first Monaco podium in P3.
Three people she loved. Three people she'd watched grow into drivers who were absolutely capable of standing beneath the champagne spray with the deafening crowd.
She wanted to be out there celebrating for them, with them. She wanted to tease Max about finally conquering Monaco. She wanted to hug Carlos and tell him congratulations on his first of what she assumed was many smooth operations in Ferrari. She wanted to tell Lando she was proud of him for his second podium of the season.
Instead, she stood inside the Mercedes garage while mechanics began stripping the car apart after a P7 finish.
There was no celebration, more so confusion. This was the other side of formula 1 that so many people neglected to think about.
Someone was already replaying the strategy timeline on a monitor. Another engineer argued that track position had doomed them before the first pit stop. Someone else insisted tire degradation had been worse than predicted. Every conversation circled back to the same question.
What went wrong?
Elena stared at the race trace glowing across her laptop. The tire life files, pit traffic, undercut window, it didn’t quite feel… complete.
"We’re treating the pit stop like it's the problem," she said quietly, as she pulled up some of the early laps concerns that were brought up through Lewis’s radio.
A nearby performance engineer looked over. "It was."
"It was the point where everything unraveled." She zoomed further back through the data. "But we'd already narrowed ourselves into that decision twenty laps earlier."
He frowned.
"What do you mean?"
She tapped a sequence of laps near the beginning of the race before turning it to the performance engineer. "We compromised track position here because we expected cleaner air later."
Another click as she moved forward in the race, "That forced us to extend this stint."
Then to data from three laps later, "Which made the tire cliff unavoidable." She looked back at the screen. "The pit stop wasn't the mistake."
Elena almost felt stupid for not seeing this before. "It was just the first moment we didn't have a good option left." They wouldn’t have noticed during the race, but if they learned what was wrong they could fix it later.
Silence settled around the workstation as everyone looked at the data. It wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable, it was the sound of eight people thinking thousands of thoughts at once.
"What would've changed it?" a voice asked behind her.
She turned to find James standing there, arms folded, eyes fixed on the telemetry instead of her. That was one of the nice things about Toto and James, they were involved in the process, in the problem solving.
Elena hesitated for a moment or two, "We'd have needed to recognize earlier that our assumptions weren't matching the race we were actually in."
James nodded once, "So what tells us that sooner?"
She blinked, then looked back down at the data, tracing through possibilities. Usually she thought through more before she made a statement, but, now she felt like she was grasping at straws. Like somehow James knew the answer and was just testing her. It was making her anxious.
Breath Lena
"We'd need a different trigger," she said slowly. "Something that flags when the race has diverged from our simulations before we're committed to a strategy."
"What kind of trigger?"
"I… don't know yet."
James was quiet for another moment. Then he pulled over an empty chair and sat beside her with the team. "Let's find one."
The conversation continued long after most of the garage had emptied. It was just another engineering discussion after another difficult race.
That night she got home and Toro was waiting, tail swishing over the couch. After a shower and some fresh clothes, she climbed onto the couch to cuddle with the cat, and enjoy the night at home.
▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀
Russia GP, 2021
By the time Formula One arrived in Russia, the championship had stopped feeling like numbers on a standings sheet.
It had become the atmosphere of the entire sport.
It lingered in engineering meetings that lasted a little longer than they used to as they worked through problems. In strategy briefings where every hypothetical eventually circled back to the same red and blue competition comparison graphic on the timing screens. In radio checks. In debriefs. In conversations that ended the moment someone from another team walked past.
No one said it aloud but then again, they didn’t have to. Everyone knew exactly what was happening and what the two teams had to loose if they let something slip.
The race itself unfolded almost exactly the way Mercedes had hoped. Lewis crossed the line first.
The garage erupted, not with the unrestrained joy she'd seen after victories earlier in the year, but with something sharper. More relieved than celebratory, because despite the near 53 second gap between Lewis and Max, that was still too close for comfort with the wdc on the line.
Every hug carried the weight of points reclaimed in the battle. Every smile was accompanied by someone already calculating the championship gap with the new totals.
Max had recovered to second almost a minute after Lewis, and Carlos finished third.
It was, Elena thought as she pulled off her headset, the most Carlos podium imaginable. He had managed to qualify front row, and hold onto that top spot for nearly the whole race despite having only the 12th fastest lap time. It was a perfectly driven performance, and yet it was almost completely overshadowed.
While the garage slowly settled into post race routine of everyone migrating to the podium, the cooldown room broadcast flickered onto one of the monitors mounted above the engineering stations.
Someone turned the volume up even if it was a mute broadcast. No one asked them to, but everybody had the unspoken request of knowing where each driver stood.
Elena found herself lingering nearby.
Her eyes settled on the space between Lewis and Max. It wasn't what they said, it was everything that they didn’t. Lewis held himself with dignity, and there were no sharp remarks, or visible hostility. Great, no tension for the cameras to dissect.
But every glance felt hardened. Even the moments that should have been casual carried an invisible weight. The podium was full, but empty, because two of the three drivers weren't living in the moment, they were living in the next race.
Lewis had been more professional since the Brocedes Incident, much more secluded. But this was a new level even for him. Elena had heard stories of Lewis before she started working at Mercedes, but since she had joined Lewis Hamilton had always been pretty even keel and focused. He wasn’t unfriendly with other drivers but there were few that he really spent time with. But with the tension? Everything felt turned to a 10. Lewis was so rigid and focused she was worried.
She folded her arms tighter across her chest as the realization dawned on her. This wasn't a rivalry anymore. Because rivalries ended when the checkered flag fell. But this? This fell into another category completely, this was in every meeting, interview, garage, drivers dinner. This was a war for a drivers championship.
It wasn't just consuming the two drivers anymore, it was consuming everyone around them.
An engineer slid past her carrying a laptop back to the chargers. He was mid conversation with another, “I still can’t believe Williams dragged another points finish out of that thing.”
The mechanic who was being spoken to chuckled, “Russell either ends up in the points or sends it into the barriers trying. No middle ground. What the hell is with that kid.”
“Four points finishes in a row,” someone else added, “Plus a podium in belgium…” She shook her head with a laugh, “I dont get how he makes the car look better than it has any right to.”
Toto happened to be walking by the station, post race espresso in his hand. He slowed enough to catch the conversation. It was usually fairly easy to tell if Toto was eavesdropping, he wasn't subtle. “Mm, he keeps making the conversation easier.”
That was all, nothing more, and no explanation, just continued down the garage towards the podiums. And as quickly as it had assembled, the gossip group had dispersed, shifting back to the celebration and tear down.
Elena was left to her own devices, mind lingering on the interaction. George was in the conversation, she had known that for a while. Lando and Alex never wasted an opportunity to remind everybody that George got into F1 by showing up to Toto's office, and representing himself with a suit, tie, and a powerpoint.
Decisions were being made far up the chain, and it involved George in the conversation. But, she couldn’t say anything to him, not wanting to get his hopes up, and it wasn’t her place to say.
Elena caught James watching Toto disappear down the garage. Their eyes met for only a second, and neither of them said anything. They really didn’t need to, in Elena's eyes the conversation was clear, and James knew that,
For the first time, Elena realized that while everyone else was consumed by the fight for one championship, Mercedes was already beginning to think about the next one. People high up on the food chain were looking beyond a potential eighth championship for Lewis, they were looking to replace Valtteri with some young talent. It was never going to be Lewis.
Did he know? Did Lewis? Were they planning on bringing George up mid season?
And somewhere in the back of her mind, almost without realizing it, the realization clicked, why they were training so many people on Lewis’s car this year. The team would be undergoing reconstruction… she wondered what role she was playing on the chessboard in Toto Wolff's mind.
▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀
Abu Dhabi GP, 2021
The garage was quieter than Elena had ever heard it. There were still toolboxes rolling across concrete, carbon fiber panels disappearing into freight cases, laptops closing one by one as data uploads finished. Mechanics spoke in low voices, engineers compared notes that neither team would look at again until winter testing.
Formula One didn't stop because someone's heart was broken.
The freight still had to leave and the season still had to end.
She stayed because there was nowhere else she was supposed to be. Helping disconnect telemetry racks, coil cables into neat loops, and check inventory lists before handing them off to logistics. It wasn't glamorous work, but neither was losing.
Every so often she caught herself glancing toward the garage entrance. Toward the celebrations she could hear echoing down the lanes.
Mercedes had spent the entire season fighting for Lewis, with Lewis. Only for the hard work to be stolen in the last lap due to a restart. The least she could do was stay until the lights were turned off.
Hours seemed to pass before she finally spotted him. Lewis stood near the back of the garage, race suit half unzipped, helping one of the mechanics close a shipping crate.
He looked… Older. Not physically, he was just heavier, emotionally. Like twelve months, preparing, racing, fighting, he looked like it all finally settled across his shoulders at once.
Elena hesitated before finally deciding to walk over. He noticed her almost immediately, his smile was polite but tired. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
For a long second after, neither of them spoke. Elena wasn’t sure what one was supposed to say after a day like today. Instead, she lifted the other side of the next crate lid and helped secure it. Finally, she managed a quiet, “I’m sorry.”
Lewis looked at her for a long moment then shook his head, he was hard to read most times. “That’s racing.” He pushed down one of the latches until it clicked into place letting out a long, slow breath. “We’ll come back next year.”
He didn't say I’ll come back, he said we’ll. After everything, he was still talking about the team, talking about the hundreds of people who helped build the car beside him. That was racing, working as a team, no driver could do it alone.
Her chest loosened and her head bobbed slightly, “We will.”
Lewis offered one last tired smile before another engineer called his name. He disappeared into the bowels of the garage out of view. She turned her own attention back to latching the other secure fixtures.
Eventually, someone from communications gently touched her shoulder, “Lewis asked if you could-” She held out a presentation case, “pick up the trophy.”
Second place. The second place trophy that he simply couldn’t carry today. Not after all the controversy, the second place trophy felt like a consolation prize.
“...Yeah.”
The paddock looked different after dark. Not dark in the sun has set kind of way, that was normal, the season finisher was always raced at night. But, without the fireworks, and with certain floodlights dimmed it just felt empty. The hospitality units were already beginning to clear out, the television crews had moved on, and forklifts quietly moved freight containers through service roads that only existed after the crowds disappeared.
She walked away from the FIA collection area with Lewis's trophy in its case tucked carefully beneath one arm. She was halfway to the first garage when-
"Bit ironic, isn't it?"
She turned, Carlos stood a few meters away, team kit pressed nicely, red glowing under the flood lights, a small velvet case of his own tucked beneath one arm. Third place. Of course he'd stayed behind to collect it himself. He didn’t need a ceremony retrieving it the final time, and he liked to do it himself.
She couldn't help smiling. "You too?"
He lifted the case slightly, "Apparently they don’t trust us not to drop them." He wasn’t wrong, from the moment the drivers walked off the podium they were placed in the fia collection area to be collected in a very padded protective case at the end of the night. Elena hadn’t even touched the trophy directly, an assigned person loaded it into the case for her.
A soft laugh escaped her before the weight of everything that had happened that day washed back over her like a wave. His eyes drifted to the trophy in her case, and the smile disappeared off his face too.
"How is he?"
She looked down at the handle, thumb brushing over the metal like she could buff out some scratch. "Disappointed."
Carlos nodded once. "Yeah." He did not offer any other opinions or analysis of what had gone wrong. Mercedes had done that enough already. It seemed like he understood, Carlos was usually very good at it. The silence between them was filled with awkward shifting and glances.
He adjusted the weight of his own trophy case. "And Max?"
The question landed differently because of what he hadn't asked. He didn't ask if Max was celebrating or where Max was. The question had implied that she had seen him, knew how he was taking the win.
Elena opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She hadn't gone to see Max actually. She'd stayed with Mercedes because that's where she belonged. Because leaving before everything was packed away would've felt like abandoning them. Because she'd spent the entire year helping build the car trying to beat Max.
And somewhere beneath all of those reasons was one she hadn't wanted to admit, and hadn’t been able to face since the USGP. She didn't know if he wanted to see her.
Carlos watched the realization cross her face. He'd always been annoyingly good at reading her, or maybe it was just that around Carlos, Elena didn’t hide her emotions as much. For a moment, neither of them moved. Then he smiled a small and gentle smile like he was reassuring her completely. "He will still be there, you know."
Her eyes lifted to his. There was something unbearably intimate about the way he said it. Not jealous or frustrated. If anything, it was the opposite. Carlos had spent enough years alongside her to understand what she was feeling. He knew what Max meant to her, that Max was the rookie who tested her patience and was also one of her closest friends.
She looked down again. "I don't know if—"
"You do."
She frowned and he took one slow step closer, close enough that she noticed the exhaustion written across his face too. His own spectacular maiden season with Ferrari. His Podium in Abu Dhabi hours ago. All overshadowed by a season-long battle in teams that weren't his. His own disappointment at spending another year watching a championship fought around him instead of with him. And still... he was worried about her.
"You've been standing in a Mercedes shirt all year," he said quietly. "If he was going to mistake that for how you feel about him..." He let the sentence trail off, a tiny smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. "...he wouldn't be Max. He will always forgive you."
She laughed softly through a shaky breath. "No."
"No."
Another silence settled between them, different this time. Her fingers tightened around the trophy case. Carlos glanced toward the darkened paddock beyond them before looking back at her.
"Go."
Just one word. He didn’t need to give her some dramatic speech because she knew he was right, Max would never mistake her job loyalty as her lack of loyalty to one of her closest friends. She held Carlos’s gaze for another second. "Thank you."
His expression softened. "For what?"
She wasn't entirely sure, for understanding maybe. For seeing every version of her, the engineer, the friend, the woman standing in front of him trying very hard not to cry about being torn between a friend and a team.
She smiled instead of answering. Carlos understood anyway. As she turned to leave, his voice stopped her one last time. "Elena."
She looked back over her shoulder. His eyes flicked briefly toward the trophy she was still carrying.
"Tell Lewis..." He searched for the words. "...tell him it was an honor."
Nothing about rivals. Nothing about controversy. Just respect. Respect even though they’d be back to competitors the next year, without fail.
She nodded once, “I will." then walked away.
She found Max almost by accident. He wasn’t inside Red Bull, or surrounded by champagne being filmed on thirty cameras.
She found him outside behind the hospitality units where the noise seemed to finally dull to a quiet. He was sitting on a stack of equipment cases, elbows resting on his knees. Max was still in his race suit, which made sense, he was probably dragged into celebration from the moment he got out of that car. No time to change when you are being sprayed with champagne. The medal hung loosely around his neck, almost forgotten as he seemed to be in his own world.
Elena didn’t bother him at first, just watched. He didn’t look like a world champion in the moment, just looked like Max.
The seventeen year old who'd happened into Toro Rosso, who had too much confidence and not enough patience.
The kid she'd argued with over telemetry. Who stole food off her plate whenever she wasn't looking because he was on a strict diet for racing. Who had fallen asleep during debriefs after double headers because he refused to admit he was exhausted.
The boy she'd watched become a man while the entire world watched him become a superstar.
He looked up and saw her before she could make her presence known. Max smiled. Not the smile she had seen him during during celebrations, or what he’d give photographers, just Max.
Something inside her unclenched completely. All at once she realized he didn't hate her. That he’d never hated her. She crossed the remaining distance, stopping a few feet infront of him.
Everything she'd planned to say disappeared.
How do you summarize six years culminating into a chaotic battle?
How do you tell someone you've watched them become exactly who you always believed they could be?
How do you explain that you've spent an entire season trying to beat them without ever once wanting them to fail?
She swallowed settling on just four words.
"I'm proud of you."
The words barely rose above a whisper but she didn’t have to, in the quiet they were loud enough. She didn’t give congratulations or even mention his championship. Just the truth of what she had been watching all season.
For the first time in a long time, Max looked completely caught off guard. People had spent hours calling him a world champion. A legend who had just made history.
Nobody had simply told him they were proud, not like this. Not from someone who remembered him from before, before wins, before the world knew his name.
Max stood up without a word and crossed the space between them, wrapping both arms around Elena. Tight. A real hug. A hug that felt like he was trying to say everything and couldn’t say anything at all.
She closed her eyes, tucking her head into his neck. He smelled of champagne and salt. The tears came before she realized she was crying. And it wasn’t because Mercedes had lost, or because Max had won, it was because the season was over. She didn't have to stand in garages that were mortal enemies anymore. Somewhere along the way she'd convinced herself Formula One might finally have taken this from them.
It hadn't.
He held her just a little tighter. As if he somehow understood every thought she'd never said aloud. Eventually she pulled back, wiping quickly at her face.
Embarrassed.
Max looked at her for a second. Then the corner of his mouth twitched. "You know..."
She sighed immediately. "No."
"You cried way more than I did."
She shoved his shoulder. "Oh, shut up."
"I didn’t cry at all."
"Max."
"You were crying over my beautiful win, yes?”
She laughed despite herself, shaking her head. "You're unbelievable."
"I've been told."
She rolled her eyes, muttering something under her breath in Greek.
He grinned and they started walking without deciding where. Just side by side through an almost empty paddock like they had a hundred times before. The championship was finally over. Win or lose the season was over and in febuary they’d start all over again.
Tonight, they were simply two kids from their Toro Rosso walking home from another race.
For those who celebrate, Happy Late Fourth of July!!! 250! The semiquincenntenial Birthday of America!
With that being said, this weekend has been awesome but also insane. So the next chapter (given that it’s going to be a very long one) will be coming out on Tuesday or Wednesday. But the SMAU should stay the same, if not maybe come out on Friday! 
Thank you all for being so patient with me and my upload schedule! Also a side little update YA GIRL IS GOING ON THE ABROAD TRIP! IT GOT APPROVED!!!
Summary: Ahead of the 2021 season Cami gets to be the one asking the questions. Hosting all the drivers and new team matches in their first of the seasons many interviews.
Author Note: 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.
See the masterlist for AOTA.
Making a distinction (this one v is Cami and that ^ is Elena)
Summary: When Sky Sports puts Cami in charge of the pre season interviews with the newly shaken up grid, it becomes a mishmash of finding chemistry and a rhythm.
Disclaimer: MDNI
Author Note: Haha so once again I put off my polish and assembly of the post. So here we are! Also it’s a bit of a weird experimental chapter this week. Different POV and scene split. Lmk what you think!
ENJOY!! Please comment and like! It makes me all excited for people to enjoy something as much as I do.
Preseason Testing, March 2021, Barhain
~Cami POV~
“Cami!"
The voice cut through the paddock noise, pulling Cami’s attention away from her gear. She turned to find a media coordinator waving from the edge of the center, an urgency to her gesture that made Cami’s pulse spike.
"We moved your slot up," the coordinator called out, her grin suggesting this was a win.
Cami shifted the weight of her equipment bag, trying to steady her breathing. "Good up or bad up?"
"Good up," the woman promised, beaming. "You got first pick."
First pick. The phrase landed with a weight that surprised her, grounding her to the spot. It wasn't just a scheduling change, it was a shift in the way she would live her life for the coming days. One year ago, she’d been clawing for a fifteen minute window with a reserve driver. Now, the schedule was rearranging itself for her. The thought followed her as she continued down the paddock.
A communications manager from Alpine stopped to say hello. A cameraman from Sky nodded as he passed. Someone from Ferrari's media team asked if she wanted the interview room set up differently than they usually did it.
Cami answered automatically, thanking people, making notes on her phone, checking her schedule.
Only when she reached the media pen did it really hit her. Nobody was asking who she was anymore. Nobody was checking credentials twice. Nobody was giving her the polite smile reserved for newcomers trying to break into Formula One.
They knew her.
"Cami!"
Another voice, this time it was one of the Sky producers.
"We've got approval."
"For what?"
"The feature piece for the first race of the season." The producer handed over a schedule sheet. Cami scanned it slightly, that would be a great start to the season. Get people acquainted with the teams.
People always watched the first race interviews, the preseason ones she was going to be filming today were a hit or miss. The producer smiled at her expression. "Nervous?"
Cami folded the schedule and tucked it into her notebook. "Terrified."
"Good." The producer laughed. "The best interviews usually start that way. Think of today as the test drive for the season. Preseason testing interviews are for testing out how we need to attack each team all season. Easy.”
Cami barely settled down into her interview chair before she heard a rather familiar voice.
"Well, well, well." Daniel Ricciardo leaned against the counter, coffee in hand, wearing the grin of someone who had absolutely no business looking that aware so early in the morning.
"The celebrity journalist."
Cami laughed to herself and rolled her eyes, going over her morning schedule, "I think that's giving me far too much credit." McLaren was first on her grid interview call sheet, so Daniel showing up was right on time.
"I don't know." Daniel shrugged. "You've got the fancy set up now, no more chasing us around paddocks, we come to you l."
"It's the exact same questions."
"Yeah, but now it’s on a bigger stage, one that drivers can’t deny. You have stepped onto a bigger stage." He claimed stepping up onto the carpeted stage and giving a dramatic stage bow to camera before plopping down on the couch.
Before Cami could answer, another voice drifted over.
"He's been waiting all morning to use that one.” Lando Norris wandered in, hands shoved into the pockets of his papaya hoodie.
Daniel pointed accusingly, his eyes shifting to Cami for a brief moment, "I have not."
"You absolutely have."
"I resent that statement, I came up with it ten seconds ago."
Lando looked at Cami as he settled down on the couch, crossing one leg over the other. "He did not."
She laughed, each new team pairing in a new year brought different dynamics. McLaren was known to be fun with Lando and Carlos but this just seemed so different but wonderful.
"So... are you two actually going to answer my questions this year?"
Daniel narrowed his eyes dramatically, "It depends."
"Oh?"
"Are you going to hide the answers inside activities again?"
Cami blinked for a few seconds, hiding answers? It was just an interview? "I’m sorry?"
"You know." Daniel gestured vaguely as if carrying on, "Like giving medicine to a dog."
Lando's face lit up immediately. "The peanut butter trick."
The fact they were only a month into being on the same team and were on the same wavelength already was borderline concerning.
Daniel snapped his fingers and pointed at him, "Exactly. See? He gets it.”
"I don't even know what interview you're talking about." Cami leaned forward so the tech coming up behind her could check the mic pack attached to her belt.
"The one where we had to build things while talking."
"That was Lego assembly challenge.”
"It was psychological warfare to force us to do that while drilling us with questions and trivia."
Lando nodded with complete sincerity, "Definitely chaotic, one of my tyres rolled off the table and no one noticed till I was stressfully 30 seconds behind Carlos’s building time."
"You all had fun during that, and it was engaging. More personality and activity driven, people love that."
Daniel looked offended at the concept of people liking those videos, as if he hadn’t just asked for more interviews in that style, “I had to think during that, I had to use my immense brain power."
"You always have to think."
"Not usually on camera, I’m just naturally good. But it was fun.”
Cami pulled her notebook from her bag. "Fine." She flipped to a blank page and scribbled down the request before backing up a page or two. "I've been pitching some new content ideas anyway, think semi grill the grid."
Daniel leaned forward immediately, coffee cup placed on the ground, then elbows on thighs, fingers pressed together like a super villian. “I'm listening."
"What if..." She pretended to think, as if she hadn’t just been staring at a list of ideas she had been writing down during break. "...a karting challenge."
"I'm in."
"I wasn't finished."
"I don't need the details."
Lando shrugged, "I'm in too."
"What if it's endurance karting?"
"Still in."
"What if it's a relay?"
Daniel nodded confidently. "I'll carry him."
Lando snorted. "You've never raced me in karting."
"Mate trust me."
Cami scribbled something onto her notepad after flipping back to the blank page.
"What are you writing?"
"'Daniel volunteers to embarrass himself on television.'"
Daniel looked delighted, "See? That’s the perfect headline. Millions of views already.”
She shook her head amused, "I also had a cooking challenge with-“
"I'm a phenomenal chef."
Lando looked at her, sitting up straighter on the couch as if trying to get more of her attention to interject, "He's lying."
"You have never seen me cook.”
"Earlier this week in hospitality I watched you eat cereal in water.”
Daniel frowned.
"...jail. I’m absolutely not putting you on a cooking challenge now." Cami scratched out the idea from the list in her orange color of her multi pen that she kept tucked in her bag.
Lando was already laughing as they argued about what Daniel defended was perfectly acceptable breakfast substitutions.
Cami watched them bicker back and forth without really needing to ask another question.
It wasn't forced. Daniel filled every silence with another joke. Lando fired back without hesitation. They meshed in with one another well. Then again… she was pretty certain Daniel could have chemistry with a plaster wall. It was hard to read his intensions sometimes.
Daniel caught her smiling down at the notebook in her lap. "What?"
"Nothing."
"Did you write down something else."
"I did."
"What?"
Cami clicked her pen closed.
"You'll have to show up to the interview on media day of the opener to find out."
Daniel groaned dramatically, slumping back against the couch head and arms tilted back to take up as much space as possible "I hate journalists."
"You love journalists."
"I love me on television." Daniel spread his arms with mock humility. "You know, it’s hard being this naturally gifted."
"In what?"
"Everything."
Lando didn't even look up from his phone which he had produced from his pocket a few moments ago. "Confidence, racing, games, take your pick he’s probably claimed it."
Daniel pointed at him, lifting his ankle to rest over his left knee, "See? He gets me."
"I wasn't complimenting you."
"I choose to hear it that way."
Cami laughed, "I'll keep your natural talent in mind Danny. Now how about we channel it towards the interview? Inquiring minds want to know.”
As the red light started to blink down from three Cami took a moment to compose herself, before she started her first interview of the day.
Ferrari's media team was much less… chaotic than McLaren. They were focused. Clearly had a lot going on, because they came in and set up in a rush before either of the drivers even settled onto the couch.
Cami adjusted the microphone clipped to her jacket as a producer counted down into the next interview.
"Rolling in three..."
Carlos and Charles wore matching team polos across from her on the couch. Clearly unity was a major part of the Ferrari team. Charles folded his hands neatly in his lap, meanwhile Carlos leaned back like he'd already forgotten there were cameras.
"...Two..."
Cami smiled as the producer pointed to her cuing her in. "And we're here with Ferrari's newest driver pairing-"
Charles immediately looked toward her, alert, ready, prepared, professional in a way she could only assume wearing the Ferrari red could make someone.
Carlos held up a hand. "Whoa."
Charles blinked, looking at the producer for a note then to Carlos, "What?"
Carlos looked at him with mock disbelief. "You do not even say hello?"
Charles frowned, confused as his eyes shifted around, how was this his fault? "...She already did."
"No, you say hello."
"Why?"
Carlos gestured toward the camera. "Good television."
Charles stared at him for a beat before giving the camera an awkward little wave. "...Hello."
Carlos nodded approvingly, "See?” He turned his attention back to the interviewer as if giving the floor back to her to pick back up where she left off.
Cami was already laughing. "Perfect. Now we can officially begin."
Charles sighed dramatically. "I was trying."
"I know, we can still work on it." Carlos patted him on the shoulder playfully.
Cami glanced down at her notes. "So, Carlos... what's it been like joining Ferrari?"
Carlos opened his mouth to answer. He was always good at giving real but polished answers. Ones that felt like they were unrehearsed, but fit all the guidelines.
Charles beat him to it, "He keeps stealing my food."
Carlos looked horrified, holding up a finger as if asking the interview to pause briefly, before turning to Charles, "That was One time."
"It was my sandwich."
"It looked abandoned."
"You watched me put it down."
"I thought you'd changed your mind." Carlos quickly moved on before it escalated, "It has been a challenge, but good so far. Though I have been competing in more than just simulations.”
Charles nodded, “We tied the first C Squared challenge of the season. Which is going to be on the Ferrari socials.”
Carlos pointed off screen to one of the Ferrari social admin to check the truthfulness of the statement. To which she nodded. "We will not be tied for long, I am planning to win which means..."
Charles immediately knew where this was going. "...Don't."
"If I win the seasons C squared overall..."
"Carlos."
"...he jumps into the ocean in Abu Dhabi."
Charles pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why did I agree to that?"
"You were confident."
"I was."
"And now you're less confident." Carlos smiled innocently before glancing to Cami then the camera “The deal is on tape.l
Cami looked between them. She'd expected carefully measured answers. Instead they were arguing over YouTube challenges before she'd even asked a second question.
"So..." she said, trying not to laugh at the increasing lunacy of her days interviews so far. "...Should I assume the competition is healthy?"
Charles answered first. "I'd like to win."
Carlos followed up by placing a finger in the air as if pausing Charles, “so would I. Not so easy for you.”
There wasn't an edge to it. Good hearted entertaining competition for a non racing related game. After years of working in a paddock, Cami had discovered that it wasn’t just competitive spirits on the track, every good driver had competitive drive in their bones.
She glanced briefly toward her producer, and he gave her an almost imperceptible nod. Keep going. This was working.
For the next fifteen minutes she barely had to steer the conversation. Every answer naturally bounced between them. Carlos told a story, then Charles corrected one detail. Carlos insisted his version was better and Charles rolled his eyes.
Neither seemed particularly interested in "winning" the interview. They were just… Comfortable. Already.
"That's a wrap."
The red tally light blinked off. Almost immediately, Charles reached for the bottle of water sitting beside his chair.
"I talked too much."
Carlos looked at him with an eyebrow raised, "You completed a volley which is good in conversation, natural flow."
Charles laughed, "You know I am media trained, right?"
"You'll thank me later."
As Charles wandered toward the center doors, Carlos stayed behind while Cami changed her microphone batteries out.
"Congratulations, by the way."
She looked up, a bit startled, not having realized Carlos had stuck around. "For what?"
He shrugged like it was obvious. "Sky finally realizing they've got a good reporter on their hands. And letting you do what you do best."
For a second she just stared at him. Months ago she'd been chasing interviews, and 7 years ago during her internship at DAMS, she was lucky to be doing hair and makeup for the drivers media. During the space between, Cami had put everything towards her goal, late nights, early mornings, writing extra questions, fighting media crowds. Sometimes she didn’t know if it was going to pay off.
Now one of her oldest friends was saying it out loud.
"They noticed, the work is finally starting to pay off and put me right where I want to be," she admitted quietly.
Carlos smiled. "Lo sé, has llegado a donde querías estar.” He gave her shoulder a quick squeeze before walking towards the door, in hopes of catching up with Charles before he got to the garage again.
Cami watched him disappear through the doors before looking down at the notebook in her hands. The interview had gone exactly the opposite of how she'd expected. And somehow, that made for the best content.
"...having Pierre as a teammate has made the transition a lot easier." Yuki nodded once, looking every bit the composed Formula One rookie.
Cami nodded, a warm smile on her face as she tapped the book in her lap, "That's actually a perfect lead into my last question."
Yuki straightened in his chair, clearly trying to come across professional and ready.
"What's been the biggest surprise since becoming a Formula One driver?"
For half a second he looked like he was preparing another carefully rehearsed answer. Then he blinked, as if his mind went blank and he was being forced to speak just as himself.
"...Everything."
Pierre laughed beside him.
"I'm serious!" Yuki insisted.
"The apartment is different. The travel is different from f2. The simulator is crazy. The schedule..." He threw his hands into the air. "The food changes every week. Sometimes I don't even know what country I'm waking up in."
Pierre nodded sympathetically. "That part doesn't really change, or get better..."
"And everyone speaks so many languages!" Yuki continued. "Someone starts talking and I'm trying to figure out if they're talking to me or someone behind me."
Cami smiled watching the energy increase throughout his answer, "So it's been..."
"A lot."
"But good?"
Yuki grinned, "The best. I couldn’t be more pleased with the opportunity I’ve been given.”
Pierre glanced at him then leaned forward slightly, "Ask him again after the triple header. The answer may change.”
Yuki groaned at the notion of that many races in a row in diffrent parts of the world.
"You'll survive."
"I know." He sighed dramatically.
"...Probably."
Cami smiled toward the camera. "I think that's the perfect place to end it. Thank you both."
The cameras stopped rolling and Yuki immediately relaxed. Slouching into the couch some and shrinking, making him look even smaller. "Was that okay?"
"You were great," Cami assured him as the PA’s crossed over to get both mics from the drivers.
"Really?"
"Really."
He smiled to himself as if the hardest part of his day was finally over with, "Good." He turned and confidently walked away leaving Pierre and Cami on the set.
"...That way, Yuki."
He stopped, looked around and then “…ah." Without missing a beat, he pivoted one hundred and eighty degrees. "Yes. Garage is that way.”
Pierre watched him disappear before looking back at Cami. "...He's going to be just fine."
Cami couldn't help but smile. “Oh yeah, absolutely."
"Nicholas as a teammate has been really valuable. We push each other every training session." George glanced toward Latifi, who gave a small nod.
Cami smiled, allowing the boys to expand if they wanted to before she cut in, "You've both spoken a lot about maximizing every opportunity this season."
George nodded, "In Formula One, you have to."
She flipped to the last page of her notes."So... last question."
George folded his hands together, waiting.
"What's the goal this year?"
He didn't answer immediately, but it wasn’t because he didn't know. It was because he was choosing the right words. Which George always took so very seriously. "To be ready."
"Ready for what?" Cami tilted her head, prodding just slightly for the answer she was looking for. Being best friends with a top engineer of a team that Williams was a feeder for came with its perks. Every conversation and complaint about work came with interview question material.
George smiled slightly. "Whatever comes next." There was no hesitation in the way he answered, no wink thrown in to be cheeky, no implications that things were in the works, just a certain preparedness.
Cami decided to push once more, reaching for the gossip her and Elena had been speculating on since Toto and James asked Elena to start learning Mercedes as a system. George was in the works. "You think your opportunity is coming?"
George's smile didn't change. "I think opportunities come to people who are prepared."
Nicholas glanced over at him with the smallest eye roll and then smile, like he'd heard that answer before.
"And until then?"
George shrugged, "You keep working. Making every car you drive faster, communicate with your team, improve.” It wasn't flashy or dramatically cocky in a way some drivers were, just secure in his belief that something was coming.
The cameras stopped rolling and the PA’s swarmed the set, "Thank you, both."
Nicholas stood first, offering a quick thanks before heading toward the Williams garage.
George unclipped his microphone, lingering for a moment, "Good questions."
"Good answers," Cami replied, trying to keep her mouth shut from blurting something, anything that her and Elena had spoken about involving George.
He smiled politely. "I'll try to keep giving them." With that, he turned and disappeared into the paddock, already checking something on his phone.
Cami watched him go. Most drivers who got interviewed talked about this weekend, the season, or the session. George always sounded like he was preparing for the next five years.
The camera wasn't even set up yet when Max dropped onto the couch across from her.
For whatever reason, Sky Sports had dubbed him a solo interview. Whether it was because Checo was preoccupied, or unwilling Cami was not told, but when she saw just Max on her sheet she knew it would be a short interview. Most interviews with Max were, it was rare that people got an enthusiastic reaction from him.
He looked over the assembled lights before settling his eyes on Cami. "Sky couldn't find anybody else?"
She didn't even look up from checking her audio levels. "You keep giving me good interviews for whatever reason."
"Sounds like your problem."
"It keeps getting me sent back. I’m starting to think you actually like answering my questions Verstappen."
"Hmm." He shrugged, "I should probably stop then."
"You won't."
"No, yours are at least intelligible."
A producer called out from behind the camera. "Alright prepare for tape."
Max reached for the microphone waiting on the table, clipping it onto the collar of his Red Bull polo with practiced efficiency.
"You've done this before."
"Once or twice." He snorted.
The producer counted them in. "...Three..."
The familiar ease between them disappeared, not because it was gone, but because both of them knew it was time to work.
"...Two..."
"...One."
The tally light turned red.
"We're here with Max Verstappen ahead of the opening race of the 2021 season." Cami smiled for the camera before turning to the driver, "Max, you've spent the last few seasons watching Red Bull close the gap."
He nodded, folding his hands on his lap, fiddling with his thumbs.
"This year... what are your expectations?"
There wasn't even a pause before he answered, "To win."
It was simple, matter of fact, confident.
She held his gaze, a little taken aback by the boldness of the answer, Cami blinked rapidly thinking of a follow up but only managed, "The drivers championship?"
A small smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. "That's the goal."
Cami glanced at her notes before asking the next question. "Does that change how you approach a race weekend?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because the work is the same." His answer came as quickly as the first. "You prepare." His hands moved as he spoke, like he was over explaining and showing the steps, "You execute."
Max let a silent moment linger before he shook his head, deciding he needed to explain it farther, “during every race, the target is different. Target being the track. But the process isn’t. It stays the same.”
For a moment neither of them spoke. It wasn't awkward, just... complete. Cami didn’t push Max like she did other drivers, some days he was talkative and Maxplained, as coined by the fans, and some days you got this, quick, fufilling answers.
The producer gave her a subtle nod, it was satisfactory. She smiled toward the camera. "Max, thank you for your time, and best of luck this season."
"Thank you."
The red light clicked off. Almost immediately, Max reached up to unclip his microphone.
"So," Cami said as she gathered her cue cards, "same time next month?"
"If you're still asking decent questions."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"You should."
Once Max had walked away her producer closed in next to her, “That was one of the better interviews we’ve gotten from Max this year. That’s why we pay you the big bucks.” He joked taking her notebook from her to place on a table so the technicians could help her get all unhooked from mics for the day.
Summary: A big move and starting over, not quite Monaco like she was originally planning, but close enough for Alex to show up at her door and demand a little walk around town. Along with a run-in with a suspicious friend aswell.
Author Note: 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: A big move and starting over, not quite Monaco like she was originally planning, but close enough for Alex to show up at her door and demand a little walk around town. Along with a run-in with a suspicious friend aswell.
Disclaimer: Charles being suspicious, Alex talking about being taken off the grid
Author Note: I did not get to do my usual second readthrough of this chapter, as I did my first edit review last night. (I also wrote it on my phone so its a little choppy.) My apologies if there are any issues, lmk if there are any glaring ones.
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.
January 2021, Monaco
One of the first things Elena learned when she got to Monaco was that a four month old Maine Coon kitten could fit inside a small dog harness.
The second thing she learned was that Toro considered this a privilege.
"Get down."
Toro ignored her, pawing at some loose packing tape.
"Toro."
The kitten perched proudly on top of a half unpacked moving box, tail flicking as he surveyed his brand new kingdom. One they had been in for hardly a couple days. His kingdom currently consisted of one couch, three lamps, two hundred cardboard boxes, and Elena sitting cross-legged on the floor trying to figure out where she'd packed her coffee maker as she fought the late afternoon sleepiness.
The apartment was beautiful. After doing some research she had decided, that despite all her drivers encouraging her to be in the country, that for as much as she’d be traveling it was not worth paying half her income in rent every month. She could manage, but Elena wanted to be able to retire someday. So instead, she found a perfect location in Cap-d’Ail. About a 10 minute walk from the Princess Grace gardens in Fontvieille, perfect distance from everything.
She had a small balcony that overlooked the streets below, not much of a view but there were charms, if she leaned over the railing and looked down the road she could see a park and being rather high up, it meant the sun came in nicely for an hour or so every afternoon before disappearing behind the next row of buildings.
The interior was nice, a two bedroom one bath, but the second bedroom was just a loft upstairs that overlooked her living room. She was planning on making that her office and sim space.
It was perfect, and also a disaster. She had been unpacking for nearly three days and yet every time she turned around the boxes seemed to multiply. It was January, pre season testing didn’t start until early march. She spared a glance at the calendar she pinned to the wall in the kitchen. Important dates scribbled along the side for the next couple months. March 12th. She’d go back to work in a few weeks and start preparing for the new season.
Toro launched himself from the moving box to the couch. Then in a single bound he was sliding onto and across the glass coffee table, and in a last ditch effort to save himself, he flung himself up and into another box. The crash echoed through the rest of the apartment.
Elena sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “You know, this isn’t a china shop.” A twitch of her lip curled up at her own joke. “You are so lucky that you are cute.”
A buzz came from the door panel and Toro lept from the box and sprinted towards the sound. The cat loved guests, she was convinced if someone broke into her apartment he would give her up for a couple head scratches and a treat.
Traitor.
Elena pushed herself to her feet and stepped around a stack of kitchen boxes.
Alex stood outside wearing a pair of sunglasses perched on top of his head. Holding a bag of what Elena could only assume was some sort of food, probably because she had mentioned to him earlier that day she couldn’t remember where she packed her pots and pans.
"You look terrible."
She stared at him with her lips pressed into a firm line, "You could have started with hello."
"I figured honesty was more useful." He squeezed past her into the apartment, careful to not let the cat make a mad dash out. Instead he placed the bag on the counter and bent down to pet the furball. "So, I brought some basics, and a small pan since you packed like a whirlwind.”
“Thank You Alex”
"You're welcome."
Alex glanced over her shoulder into the apartment, then down at Toro, then back at the apartment.
"Wow."
"It's not that bad."
"It looks like a natural disaster."
Toro chose that moment to sprint down the hallway carrying what appeared to be a roll of packing tape. Alex watched him disappear into her bedroom
"Well at least you won’t be needing the tape for a while."
“He’s building a treasure trove of all my moving supplies. Earlier he took my labels too.” Toro reappeared in the hallway and trotted back towards them, strutting like this apartment was his, and he had signed the lease.
Alex scratched behind Toros ears then looked up from his spot on the floor. "So."
"So?"
"You're done unpacking for today."
She laughed, it was an absurd concept, she’d be packing half way into the night. "I'm absolutely not."
"You are."
"Alex-"
"You moved to…” Gestured to the window. “Basically Psudo Monaco. I live in Monaco. It's my civic duty to show you around."
"You have civic duties?"
"No."
"Thought so."
Alex stood and scooped Toro up effortlessly and went for the little harnass that was hanging on a hook by the door.
"Come on. Sunlight will do you good."
"You're kidnapping my cat."
"He likes me."
Toro immediately started purring as he got into the harnass. Walks were his favorite part of the day, Elena usually took him on one in the morning, so an afternoon one was a treat.
Elena looked betrayed as her cat was placed down and trotted out the door on his leash the second the door opened.
"Fine."
"Great."
Alex headed for the elevator and Elena, after quickly slipping on her trainers, followed him. The boxes would still be there later. Unfortunately.
The weather outside was simply perfect. Which felt deeply unfair considering how much of her life currently was in chaos. Monaco (and her little border of France) seemed determined to be beautiful at all times.
Alex led them through narrow streets and winding slopes that Elena was convinced she would never remember.
"Coffee shop." He pointed toward a corner café with stripped awnings and a total of 3 tables outside for 2. "Best espresso in Monaco, other stuff isn’t bad either."
It took them a total of 5 minutes to order and be back on their walk with coffees in hand. Monaco was small but Alex had lots to share.
"Harbor." He directed as they breached the end of a street that gave way to the massive rows infront of them on the water. "Very expensive boats."
"Insightful."
"I know."
Toro walked in pace with the two, occasionally weaving between them, his tail swishing in the air, turning his head to watch people pass. Nobody seemed remotely surprised by the giant kitten. Which made a lot of sense considering where they were.
"Never try driving through this area during race week."
"Noted."
"Actually don't drive anywhere during race week."
"Also noted."
The water glittered beneath the afternoon sun. Slowing to a stop just near a set of benches, they both decided to take a breath, both to finish their coffee and let Toro bound about on the empty benches.
For a moment neither of them spoke. It was nice and peaceful. Alex was always like that, he kept everyone’s heads on their shoulders while also being incredibly genuine.
He shoved his hands into his pockets. "At least I won't have to deal with traffic this year."
Elena glanced at him. The comment was casual and light. The sort of thing someone said when they didn't want a conversation but he had tried to minimize the situation when it happened, and Elena cared about him too much to not check on him.
"How are you doing?"
Alex shrugged, "Fine."
"Mostly."
She waited, knowing that he’d continue if she left him in the quiet long enough.
"Different."
That at least felt honest. Not a bad thing but definitely not great.
"Yeah? That’s a step.”
He smiled, "I guess it’s not terrible though."
"No?"
"No."
His gaze drifted toward the little yacht on the inner side of a dock. Not small by any means but in comparison with the ones that lined the harbor, it paled in comparison.
"I finally know where my apartment is."
Elena laughed, "That's your silver lining?"
"You'd be surprised how often I forgot."
"Fair."
Alex nudged her shoulder, it was probably rather obvious that she was trying to choose the right words.
"I'll be back eventually."
The confidence wasn't forced, it wasn’t bravado put on to impress. Just a confidence that Elena admired, and she believed him.
"You will."
They walked another block towards where Alex claimed his favorite restaurant was located. Before they even got there Alex groaned. "Oh God."
"What?"
He pointed toward an old photograph displayed in a restaurant window. Some promotional image from years ago. “The owners have been putting up monthly photos of me since I got into f1. I come here far too much but they make fantastic pad krapow.”
Elena squinted to see the photo in the window, then immediately burst out laughing.
The haircut. The awful, tragic haircut. Far too short, not doing any favors for his forehead.
"Oh no."
"It was a bad look for winter testing."
Elena shook her head and pointed at the photo “Actually, that was just between your f2 win and your signing with f1."
Alex froze.
Elena froze.
It felt like the world froze for a long moment. Then slowly, very slowly, Alex turned towards had in disbelief.
"What?"
"What?"
Elena's stomach dropped immediately into the center of the earth. The kind of drop usually reserved for roller coasters and realizing you'd sent an email to the wrong person.
Shit πιάστηκα.
"Nothing."
Alex narrowed his eyes.
"No."
She resumed walking, tugging Toro's leash to move down the street ahead of Alex. The universal signal for this conversation is over. Unfortunately, Alex had known her for years and wasn’t going to take that as an answer.
"Elena."
"Alex."
"How do you know that?"
"Know what?"
"The haircut."
She shrugged, averting her eyes to the skyline above the buildings to avoid staring directly at Alex.
"It was a bad haircut."
"Everyone knows it was a bad haircut."
He pointed accusingly.
"Nobody knows it was between the seasons and my debut."
She decided to just keep walking, faster. Elena decided that if she continued walking he couldn’t continue asking questions. Maybe if she walked fast enough she'd reach Italy.
"You googled it." Alex sounded unconvinced by his own suggestion.
"Exactly." She jumped on, deciding stalking was better than the truthful answer.
"It wasn’t a time with PR, so it wasn’t online."
"Everything is online."
"It literally wasn't until-“
Elena risked a glance toward him and that was her biggest mistake because Alex was looking at her the way a detective looked at a suspect five minutes before an arrest.
"Oh my God."
"No."
"Oh my God."
"No."
His eyes widened like the pieces were starting to connect somewhere in his brain. Infact, Elena could practically see them sliding into place.
"No."
Alex stopped walking entirely, but she kept going. The farther she could get the better. Three steps, four, five-
“ELENA.”
People whipped around to look at the commotion and she groaned, turning on her heel to face him. Toro got yoinked back from the abrupt stop.
"Lower your voice."
"You."
Alex pointed dramatically at her. "Are hiding something."
Really. Genius detecting, all that and he only had figured out she was hiding something. Still didn’t know what it was she was hiding. So Elena continued to play the game.
"I'm not."
"You're lying."
"I'm really not."
"You absolutely are."
She sighed, Alright enough of playing the game.
"Alex."
"No."
"Alex."
"NO."
He was already pulling out his phone. Which somehow made everything worse because now he knew where he was going to look for proof. Great.
"What are you doing?"
"Research."
"That isn’t going to help you, do you know how much data is on the internet?”
He didn’t answer, face down on his phone, looking for something very specific apparently.
"Alex."
It was too late though, his thumbs tapped across the screen and then he switched to his pointer finger to scroll, and scroll, and scroll. Then there was a dangerous kind of silence as he stared. Which meant he found something.
"Oh."
Elena closed her eyes tightly, so much for three years of covert operations.
"No."
Alex looked up slowly, bringing the phone up to face her, he jabbed a finger at the screen.
"You posted the Victorian orphan comparison."
"What?"
"You posted the awful young year photos of George Lando and I."
She laughed despite herself as she pictured the post in her head, because honestly? Any of the young drivers photos had been funny.
"I'm not admitting to anything."
"That was many f1 fans first impression of us. You absolutely did."
"I didn't."
"You did."
"I didn't."
Alex shoved his phone toward her face. The ancient Grid Gremlin post filled the screen. A side-by-side of all three of the rookies, with the caption ‘Just a reminder that these are the rookies for the 2019 season.’
"That's circumstantial."
"Elena."
"That's not evidence."
"ELENA."
She laughed harder, scanning the bottom of the post, oh how her follower count had changed since that point. Alex looked personally offended at her giggling.
"You ruined my life."
"Oh, come on."
"The post has over got fifty thousand likes at the moment."
Toro meowed loudly at the fact they had been standing still for far too long. He started weaving between Elena’s legs which would become hell if she didn’t check the leash before she started walking.
Alex pointed at the cat. "See, even he is disappointed in your posting behavior."
Toro blinked up at them, just before starting to lick his paws, staying a neutral party. Clever boy. Alex went back to scrolling.
"Oh my God."
"What now?"
His expression became increasingly horrified , then increasingly delighted, then somehow both simultaneously. Oh no what had he found now.
"YOU called my haircut a human rights violation."
"It was."
"You can't just say that."
"I did."
"You did."
"I did."
Alex stared at her for a brief moment then burst out laughing. The sound echoed down the street and drew more attention than him shouting her name earlier. Somehow that made Elena laugh too.
Years. She had kept the account mostly secret for years. Besides Cami, and on occasion someone being a bit suspicious she had been successful. And somehow Alex had figured it out because she'd accidentally identified a bad haircut from 2018.
Unbelievable.
"You are unbelievable."
"You looked like a groomed dog in the summertime."
"I was twenty."
"Exactly! And in my defense, I was saying you look way better with your current hair than that haircut."
She covered her face and Alex looked moments away from collapsing. Though she couldn’t tell if it was embarrassment or glee that he figured out his years long quest.
"You made a bibliography of references for a post about my hair."
"I'm committed to quality."
"I hate you."
"No, you don't."
"No." Alex grinned, shaking his head at her before linking his arm in hers, "I really don't." He started walking again, down towards the gardens, and towards the buildings that most of the drivers stayed in.
For a while they walked, talking about stories, theories from the fans, Alex brought up many posts, and Elena had to defend herself for every one of them. It felt good to finally get to talk about it, with a close friend. It felt easy, which seemed to be the way things were with Alex.
"You know everyone is going to lose their minds if they ever find out."
Her smile faded slightly, giving his arm a little squeeze, "That is exactly why nobody can."
The joking disappeared instantly, Alex understood because despite all the teasing, he knew what the account actually was. A corner of the sport that belonged entirely to her. It was something that she had built all by herself. Not because of team allegiances, of driver favoritism, or because of politics, it was all her and the silly photos she had taken of her friends over nearly 6 years of the sport.
"Alex."
His expression softened, understanding the question she was about to ask "I won't tell anyone."
"I'm serious."
"I know."
"Not Lando."
"Okay."
"Not George."
"Okay."
"Not Carlos."
"Okay."
She studied him carefully.
"You promise?"
"I promise."
Elena exhaled, feeling like her secret was finally locked away nice and safe between three people now. Her. Cami. And now Alex. "Thank you."
A comfortable silence settled between them. Only to be broken by an idea, Alex opened his mouth, “You know… technically, as the grid gremlin-“
"Charles?” The two had rounded the corner of a high rise and ran directly into a familiar face. There were very few people capable of looking suspicious while simply standing still. Charles Leclerc was one of them.
He wore a hoodie, in 23 degree weather, a hat baseball had pulled down, and sunglasses tucked under that. It was the sort of disguise that only made someone significantly more noticeable. The kind that only worked in super hero movies.
Alex squinted at the figure who Elena could only assume was pretending to be a vampire hiding from the sun.
"Charles."
"Alex."
Charles nodded toward Elena.
"Elena."
"Charles."
Alex didn’t let the awkward silence hang too long, instead hiding a twitch of his lips. "You look normal."
Charles looked offended. "I am normal. So, incredibly normal. This is how I dress."
"Sure."
"I'm serious."
"Right."
Charles adjusted the brim of his hat, trying to seem like someone who was definitely not sneaking around Monaco. Which naturally made him look exactly like someone sneaking around Monaco.
Elena bit the inside of her cheek, and Alex looked seconds away from saying something. Charles looked seconds away from defending himself. Neither outcome would improve the situation.
"What are you two doing?" Charles asked finally obviously trying to change the conversation away from his escapades.
Alex answered immediately. "Nothing."
Charles narrowed his eyes, and Elena’s stomach sunk. Had Charles overheard Alex talking about the grid gremlin? Did Charles now know one of her deepest secrets?
"That sounds suspicious."
"It's not."
Now Charles turned his attention to Elena and repeated the line of questioning. "It sounds suspicious."
"It's not." She mimicked Alex. Charles looked between them. Alex. Elena. Back to Alex. Back to Elena. Then finally, something flickered across his face. A dangerous curiosity, the kind that had gotten him into trouble since childhood. The kind that would make him put the overheard conversation together. He was thinking, connecting dots, the exact thing Elena didn't want him doing.
"Right." Charles smiled and then turned his attention to escaping the conversation before the topic turned to him and why he was sneaking around Monaco like some marvel actor on a set. "Well." He took a step backward. "Enjoy your walk." Then another. Then another. Until he was about eight paces away before he turned towards the apartment buildings that overlooked the harbor. The building he didn’t live in. At least Elena didn’t think he did.
Definitely not suspicious.
Elena watched him disappear, then looked at Alex. "So much for keeping it a secret huh.” She scowled at the man who had in an instant flipped to being a kid being scolded.
"It slipped out."
"It slipped out."
"It slipped out."
"You are the worst."
"I know."
By the time Elena made it back to her apartment, the sun had disappeared behind the buildings of the beach side French town. The city glittered outside her windows, the golden lights reflected off the windows across the way.
From her deck everything looked impossibly beautiful. Which would have been easier to appreciate if Toro wasn't currently halfway inside a kitchen cabinet.
"Absolutely not."
The kitten ignored her and a spoon immediately clattered onto the floor, then another, then a third. Elena stared at the furball, and clearly he had become immune to her scowl even at four months, because he simply stared back, neither of them moved.
Then he slowly opened his mouth and grabbed the packet of instant ramen flavoring from the counter and jumped down, sprinting away.
"Why?"
Toro vanished around the corner and she heard a thud into a wall. Followed by a pause, then the sound of tiny paws running at full speed once again.
Elena dropped her forehead against the counter. The evening passed slowly, the walk had taken a lot out of Toro apparently because about an hour later he crawled up on the cat tree she built for him, curled up, and lazily watched her unpack.
She sorted kitchen supplies, hung and folded closed, found a few things that she had honestly forgot she owned, then lost things she had been holding thirty seconds ago. As is moving.
The apartment steadily became more livable and less like a storage facility. It was becoming more of her home, a place she could imagine spending her off time.
The thought probably should have felt heavier. The whole moving countries, starting over, leaving England behind, leaving Marco behind, leaving all the ugly memories behind.
Instead she found herself thinking about Alex laughing so hard he'd nearly dropped his phone, about Charles' suspicious behavior, and about the fact that somehow, after years of secrecy, she'd managed to expose herself because of a haircut.
The universe had a cruel sense of humor.
It wasn’t the first time she started over completely, she did it once when she was much younger, when she decided to tell her family she wanted to attend university in England, and not stay where she called home all her life. She did it then, and she could do it now. Only now she didn't just have her families support, she had a whole community behind her.
Her phone buzzed.
Elena glanced down automatically to catch a glimpse of the message. It was Max. Or rather, as she had him in her phone The Child 🇳🇱.
It was the contact name she'd assigned him years ago after one particularly chaotic race, and a story from Charles about yet another inchident.
The message contained exactly three words.
you're grid gremlin
Elena leaned over on the counter so quickly she almost hit her head trying to get closer to the screen. Even Toro raised his head from his comfy perch. She ignored him and intensely stared at the screen. Then read it again, and again.
There there was absolutely no reason Max Verstappen should know that.
None.
Zero.
Impossible.
Unless… no. No that was a stupid idea.
Alex? Alex wouldn't, he had promised. Her fingers flew across the keyboard.
how do you know that
The typing bubble appeared, disappeared, appeared yet again, then vanished entirely.
A couple seconds passed and there was nothing. She narrowed her eyes as if demanding that the bubble return. Then as if obeying her demands another message arrived.
who else got a photo of me flipping them off from a window
Elena stared at the message. Well shit. It was just a stupid photo she had taken over a year ago, Max was chucking redbulls out a window. It was a media thing. And she had yelled up to him to ask if she could get one. Got that in response.
She closed her eyes and rested her forehead on the cool marble. Today of all days. Right after she had told Alex, and after Charles had potentially overheard and…
Very slowly she lifted her head and started to type again.
you are unbelievable
Three dots appeared instantly.
it was obvious
it was not obvious
it really was
Max
I’ve heard enough from people to put it together.
Another message came through seconds later.
some of them are actually very funny
Of all the responses she expected from Max Verstappen, compliments were not one of them. Somehow that felt more alarming than him figuring it out. She and Max had lots of history, but they always had to throw jabs at eachother. It was their thing. Another notification.
don't get excited
Elena barked out a laugh, of course Max could read her mind, sense her disbelief. There he was, back to normal for the most part. She typed back immediately.
you literally complimented me
don't make it weird
too late
Several seconds passed before Max responded with.
i won't tell anyone
The smile slipped from her face, because despite everything, that is what mattered to her. That she could trust her friends to keep that small however chaotic corner of the internet as hers.
thank you
There wasn’t a message for a very long time, Then her phone buzzed one final time.
Charles may have overheard you though.
She paused, what the fuck? That, she decided, was not a problem for Elena today. That, would be next week Elena’s problem. Instead she placed her phone back on the charger and walked back to a couple of boxes. After a bit more unpacking she ended up lying on her couch at midnight wondering how many Formula One drivers knew about her secret meme account.
Which felt ridiculous, udderly ridiculous. And yet? So incredibly entertaining. A list had formed that day of drivers who now knew and she had a feeling that it was going to grow.
Lord help her. The season hadn't even started yet.
Not sure about anyone else but I re-read all my favourite AO3 comments when I’ve had a rough day so if you’ve ever taken the time to write a deep, funny, or just kind comment, thank-you.
Summary: Coming back to the paddock with a new position and a newly single status creates a host of awkward situations not only for Elena but also Carlos, as he faces a fear he didn't know he had.
Disclaimer: Mentions of Cheating, Minors DNI
Author Note: 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: Coming back to the paddock with a new position and a newly single status creates a host of awkward situations not only for Elena but also Carlos, as he faces a fear he didn't know he had.
Disclaimer: Mentions of Cheating, Covid, Minors DNI
Author Note: So... I know i dropped off the face of the earth for a bit but I got to fly across the country to see 5 Seconds Of Summer in concert and then came home and did a roadtrip to my summer job. I am back on track now. However, Y'all pray for me, i am trying so hard to get things cleared for a potential abroad study trip in august but it means so much stress for now. If anyones ever worked with CIEE Please DM me because I am starting to think they aren't even real LOL.
Alsoooooo this is the end of the McLaren Era!!!!!
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.
November, 2020
The next Tuesday came with an awkward silence.
Since the breakup there had been no dramatic apologies from Marco. No flowers. No attempt to explain himself beyond the half finished voicemail she’d deleted sometime around two in the morning.
Honestly, Elena preferred it that way.
The apartment was still dim when her phone buzzed across the kitchen counter. Unknown internal Mercedes extension.
She frowned and answered immediately. This couldn’t be very good, who had touched her perfect outlines for the race weekend. “Hello?”
“Elena.” Toto’s voice.
She straightened instinctively. “Toto.”
“You have a moment?”
“Of course.”
Another voice joined the line, James Vowles this time, warm and familiar. “Morning, Elena.”
Now she was definitely awake.
People did not casually call engineers together before eight in the morning unless something had gone very right or catastrophically wrong. Certainly not those two people specifically.
“Elena,” Toto began, direct as always, “James and I have been discussing restructuring support on Lewis’ side of the garage for next season.”
Her stomach tightened.
“We want to keep you where you are, but Bono requested you apprentice some, just keep eyes on how he runs things, learns things.”
For a second, she said nothing. But it wasn’t because she didn’t understand, it was because she did. It was an unofficial promotion. Not simulator support. Not data overflow. Not backroom strategy. Directly under Bono. It meant some things were in the works that she wasn’t sure about yet.
Her fingers tightened around the edge of the counter.
Sure, Elena’s previous engineering roles had been working side by side with Lewis, and she would continue with that, but he had 4-7 engineers working on his car at any given time. This was a request to learn the role of a head engineer, on top of what she was already doing.
“Oh,” she managed softly.
James laughed lightly. “That good, huh?”
“I just…” She exhaled once, trying to regain composure. “I thought perhaps I misunderstood.”
“You didn’t,” Toto said. “It may be lots of work, but you have a team behind you, and great things ahead. You’ve earned this.”
There it was, the inevitable Earned. The word should have made her feel proud. But she was instead faced with an uncomfortable burning crawling up her chest, because the timing was impossible to ignore.
Monday the closest in the paddock found out about Marco.
Tuesday Mercedes offered her the biggest unofficial promotion of her career.
Elena stared out the apartment window toward the gray morning sky. “This isn’t because of my personal life, is it?”
There was a dead silence on the call and for a brief moment she wondered if the line had dropped. Then James said, genuinely confused, “Your what?”
She blinked, and Toto spoke next. “Should we know something?”
Heat immediately crawled onto her cheeks from behind her ears.
“No,” she said too quickly. “Nothing. Forget I said anything.”
“Elena,” James said carefully, “this decision was finalized almost three weeks ago.”
Three weeks. That meant it was before the breakup. Before the humiliation he put her through. Before the pitty the paddock would shower her with come race weekend. She had done her best to keep it quiet but subtle is not a word the boys did well.
Toto continued, matter of fact. “You are one of the strongest performance engineers we have. Bono specifically requested more direct involvement from you after Mugello and Sochi.”
Her throat tightened unexpectedly. Toto wasn’t talking out of pity. It was out of Respect.
“You’ll begin shadowing responsibilities in Sakhir,” James added. “Assuming you accept.”
Elena laughed softly under her breath, still overwhelmed. “I think you already know the answer.”
Toto hummed approvingly. “Good. Then congratulations are in order.”
This time, when she smiled, it was real. “Thank you,” she said quietly.
After the call ended, Elena stood alone in the kitchen for a long moment, staring at her reflection in the dark microwave glass.
For the first time in days, Marco was not the first thing on her mind. Work was… and it was her work.
She was getting pieces of her life back on track and better than before.
ᯓ★๋࣭⏱ ⭑ᯓ★๋࣭⏱ ⭑ᯓ★๋࣭⏱ ⭑
Turkey, November, 2020
Turkey was bad. But it wasn’t because people were cruel, it was because they were kind. Far too kind, and that somehow made it worse.
By Thursday afternoon Elena had perfected the polite smile she used when someone approached her with that particular tilt of sympathy in their eyes.
“I heard what happened.”
“You okay?”
“Honestly? You deserve better.”
Every conversation became a version of the same thing. Marco’s name floated through the paddock like smoke she couldn’t escape.
“Congratulations, Elena!” Daniel Ricciardo called across the paddock Thursday evening.
Finally, something normal, talking about her new position, her steps towards her future. Elena smiled for what felt like the first genuine time all day. “Thank you. I’m very excited.”
Daniel blinked. “About… the breakup?”
Her smile froze, “Oh,” she said flatly. “Right.”
To his credit, Daniel immediately looked horrified. “No no no, I mean obviously not congratulations for being cheated on, that sounds insane-”
“It does a little, yes.”
“I meant congratulations because Marco sucked.”
That startled a laugh out of her before she could stop it.
Daniel pointed at her immediately. “There. That. Keep doing that instead.”
By Friday, even Lewis had noticed. “You look tired,” he said quietly between sessions, pulling off his gloves.
“I am tired.”
“You want me to tell people to stop asking?”
The offer alone nearly undid her. Lewis, a man on the precipice of locking in yet ANOTHER world championship, took notice enough to make her want to sink into the floor.
She shook her head. “No. They mean well.”
Lewis gave her a long look over the top of his mask. “Sometimes people make themselves feel useful by turning somebody else into a tragedy.”
“You don’t owe anyone details,” he added softly.
His words rung in her ears, she couldn’t see his face under the mask but she could practically imagine the friendly smile, the gap in his teeth as he patted her shoulder.
You don’t owe anyone details She tried to remind herself of that later that afternoon when another engineer cornered her near catering with a sad smile and said, “At least work is going well, right?”
At least… that made her feel like her career was a consolation prize.
By Saturday qualifying, Elena was dangerously close to losing patience entirely. Half convinced she would snap the fingers off the next person who offered condolences or questioned her decisions.
Then she saw Carlos.
He was halfway into his gloves near the McLaren garage when he looked up and spotted her approaching.
And immediately his eyes brightened, the mask covered the smile but something deep in her chest knew the smile was there.
They had been cordial throughout the pandemic, but warmed as they chatted on I-racing, occasional conversations in the paddock, she even found him to congratulate when Charles let it spill that Carlos was to move to Ferrari.
It caught her off guard enough that some of the tension left her shoulders before she even reached him. Then she shifted the credentials that hung around her neck with her thumb. “Do you have a second?”
“For you? Always.”
“Do you have a second?”
~Carlos~
He almost kicked himself for the way he responded split in half, body trying to be nonchalant, fastening his gloves, while his words found a way to undo all his work. “For you? Always”
“I have big news.”
Something in her tone made his heart stutter.
Elena had Big news. His mind went straight to it before he could stop himself. Marco, of course.
It had been two years, more or less. Solid, stable years. The kind of years she deserved.
And after the amount of congratulations floating around the paddock this weekend…
He could already see it, a ring, a quiet proposal, her soft smile when she said yes. The way he better have knelt shoulders straight, and she would collapse into his arms after he slipped the ring on, like a perfect fit. Because of course it fit perfectly first time.
She’d told him once she wanted something steady, someone who wouldn’t burn her.
Marco was that. A sponsor guy. Clean cut. Polite. Safe.
Not like him, who had lost his chance long ago and still tried to make it work.
Carlos was grateful he didn’t have to fake a smile under the fabric, swallowing the sharp pinch of jealousy before she could see it. “That is incredible. Tu verás deslumbrante el día de tu boda.” he said, squeezing the heartburn that clawed at his throat “I’m happy for you both. You and Marco deserve-“
Her expression changed, just slightly, but enough.
It wasn’t anger or excitement, but exhaustion. His stomach twisted immediately.
“What?” he asked carefully, still smiling though it already felt wrong. “Elena?”
Her thumb hooked on the small metal loop on her badge tugging as it pushed into her collar. “Carlos… Marco and I aren’t together anymore.”
The words hung in the air like static, and for a second his brain simply stopped.
“Oh,” he said, voice catching. “I- I didn’t know.”
“I didn’t tell many people.” She gave him a small, tired smile. “Though apparently Lando and the boys have chatted enough for people to know to congratulate me for it.”
The embarrassment hit him all at once.
Dios.
Of course that was why everyone had been acting strange around her.
And he’d just joined the list.
“No, I just…” He rubbed hard at the back of his neck, face heating up beneath the mask. “I thought-”
“That I was getting married,” she finished quietly, a tiny smirk tugging at her mouth. “You’re not the first one.”
He let out a breath somewhere between a laugh and a groan.
“Kill me now.”
That earned a small laugh from her, it felt real, despite the exhaustion behind it. Then she pushed up onto her toes before rocking back to her heels.
“But the actual news is that Mercedes promoted me,” she said. “Unofficially. But I have been shadowing Bono, learning the ropes of a race engineer.”
For a moment, all he could do was stare. The sentence took a second to fully reach him through the rush of humiliation from before.
Of course.
Of course that was her news.
And suddenly all he could think about was how easily he’d assumed the most important thing in her life had to involve a man. “Elena,” he said softly.
She raised an eyebrow slightly, waiting.
“That is perfection.” He meant it, it was not polite excitement or fake encouragement.
An unofficial promotion to learn under Bono wasn’t a pity move. Mercedes did not hand out trackside roles working with Lewis because somebody got cheated on.
“You earned that,” he said immediately, “That’s one step closer to your dream position,” he continued, pride warming through the embarrassment now. “Though Bono will die before he loosens his grip on Lewis. Maybe it is Valtteri who will be needing a new engineer.”
A real smile finally broke across her face. He remembered, of course he remembered how badly she wanted to be a vehicle dynamics engineer someday. Still a long ways off, but it was a step.
“It is,” she admitted softly. “Thank you.”
For a moment neither of them moved. The noise of the garage faded strangely around the edges, mechanics moving tires, radios crackling, distant engines screaming down pit lane.
And all Carlos could think was that she looked lighter talking about work than she had in months. He wanted to reach out, to bring her back into his world like she hadn’t left. Then someone from Mercedes called her name farther down the paddock.
Reality returned instantly.
“I should go,” she said quietly.
Carlos nodded too fast. “Yeah. Of course.”
She took a step backward before pausing again.
“You were the first person this weekend I really told about it,” she admitted.
His eyebrows lifted immediately. “I feel honored. Even if it is technically Unofficial.”
“Yes, but I’ll take unofficial over having all the weight on me for the season.”
A laugh escaped him before he could stop it. God, he’d missed this.
She turned and disappeared back into the paddock, and the silence she left behind felt heavier than before.
Marco and Elena were not together anymore.
The realization slammed into him all over again now that she was gone.
Not together.
For months he’d forced himself to live with the idea that she was happy. Stable. Safe. Loved by somebody who deserved her.
He’d told himself that story because it hurt less than wanting her.
Now suddenly she wasn’t with him anymore.
And worse- something had happened.
He wasn’t stupid, long relationships never just end because they fizzle out. Something bad enough happened that the entire paddock knew.
Carlos turned sharply toward hospitality.
“Where is he?”
Lando, halfway through a sandwich, froze mid-bite. “Mate, hi- you okay?”
Carlos pointed at him, eyes wild. “You. You were supposed to tell me.”
“Tell you what?”
“That Elena and Marco-” he threw his hands up, “-they broke up!”
Lando blinked. “Oh. That.”
“Sí, THAT?!”
Lando slowly lowered the sandwich. “Okay, I see how you could be upset-“
“Upset?” Carlos stared at him incredulously. “Lando, I just congratulated her on getting engaged. Engaged. I made a fool of myself in front of her.”
Lando made a noise somewhere between sympathy and laughter. “Oh no.”
“Yes, oh no!”
“Okay okay okay, in my defense-” Lando scrambled to his feet as Carlos stalked toward him, still half in his fireproofs. “Things were chaos! There were boxes everywhere, Cami yelling, Max showed up with a cat-”
“A cat?”
“Massive cat. Very judgmental. Name’s Toro.”
Carlos stared at him flatly. “You forgot to tell me Elena broke up with her boyfriend because Max Verstappen had a cat.”
“When you say it like that, it sounds bad.”
“It is bad.”
Lando’s smile faded slightly.
“How bad was it?” Carlos asked quietly, voice becoming gravely serious as he realized he could have been there for her earlier if he had simply been more online, and not had gotten off Instagram months earlier to focus on the season.
Lando hesitated, then, “She thought she found a ring,” he admitted. “Turned out it was another girl’s necklace.”
Carlos blinked once, and then his heartbeat was suddenly loud in his ears.
“He cheated.”
Lando nodded.
Carlos didn’t move. For a second he just stared at the floor, jaw clenched so tightly the muscle twitched.
Because for months he’d pictured Elena happy.
Thought maybe Marco was what she wanted- someone steady, someone safe, someone who wouldn’t burn through her life like Carlos always feared he would.
He’d used that thought like anesthesia. A way to survive, to subdue his yearning.
But now all he could see was her face when she’d said I have big news. And how quickly he’d assumed she couldn’t possibly be talking about her professional goals.
“She deserved better,” he said quietly.
“Yeah,” Lando replied softly. “She did.”
Carlos ran a hand over his jaw, exhaling hard through his nose. Then, despite everything, another thought pushed through the anger.
“Secondary race engineer under Bono…” he muttered.
Lando snorted softly. “Mental, right?”
A small smile tugged briefly at Carlos’ mouth. “No,” he said. “That sounds exactly like her.”
“You okay?”
Carlos looked away. He wasn’t okay, not even remotely, but he forced a brittle smile anyway.
“Fine.”
Then after a beat he looked back to his friend, “if I see Marco come into McLaren I’ll- ”
“-you’ll congratulate him politely and move on with your life?” Lando offered hopefully.
Carlos shot him a look. “I’ll break his nose.”
Lando sighed heavily. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”
Summary: The rookies give Elena an hour of peace, which is quickly interrupted by Elenas original rookie. Max. And a guest who she could have never seen coming.
Disclaimer: Mentions of Cheating, Minors DNI
Author Note: 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.
See the masterlist for AOTA here.
I’m doing this off mobile because I’m on vacation. I will add the borders later because there is a 10 photo limit on mobile.
Summary: The rookies give Elena an hour of peace, which is quickly interrupted by Elenas original rookie. Max. And a guest who she could have never seen coming.
Disclaimer: Mentions of Cheating, Minors DNI
Author Note: When I tell you Toro has been in the plans since the beginning you better believe it. He has his own board under the AOTA Pinterest Smau Board. ALLLLLLLL THE CAT POSTS? YEP.
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
12 Hours Later
In the morning everything felt settled, comfortable. It wasn’t fixed, but it was improving. It felt like she was starting at the bottom of the big hill that she had tumbled down.
Her chest still ached in that strange hollow way grief seemed to settle, and when she stirred, opening her eyes there, was still a moment of disorientation before memory returned. Marco. The empty closet. The 4 bodies staying with her, the warm presences that brought her more peace in the past day with their chaos than she had felt during the last 2 months of her and Marcos relationship.
The apartment no longer felt dead.
It looked like a natural disaster had passed through sometime around two in the morning. Empty wine glasses sat abandoned across the coffee table, all completely empty. Someone had left a shoe near the kitchen island for reasons Elena could not begin to understand. A blanket had somehow become tangled around George’s legs in the armchair while Lando was half hanging off the couch like gravity had been trying to drag him down over the span of the night.
And from the kitchen came quiet movement.
Alex.
Elena watched him silently for a moment from where she sat curled against the arm of the couch. He was loading the dishwasher with the sort of careful concentration usually kept for people who were checking code and disposing of bombs, clearly trying not to wake anyone.
“You know you don’t actually live here, right?” she asked hoarsely as she pushed up and off of the couch, shuffling towards the kitchen where the light was bright even for a room where the sun was coming in the windows.
Alex startled hard enough to almost drop a mug. “Jesus Christ,” he whispered, clutching his chest. “We need to put a bell on you. I thought you'd be sleeping till noon.”
A weak smile pulled at her mouth.
“Sorry,” he said quieter this time, feeling bad. “I was trying to clean up a little before everyone woke up.”
“You don’t have to clean my apartment after my relationship explodes.”
“Well,” Alex glanced around at the disaster zone, “the plates, pizza, wine, that all came from us, not the relationship, and no one likes a messy house.”
She huffed out a laugh through her nose.
“So, I have a question that sounds a little strange. How active are you in formula 1 media circles?” Alex placed the last mug into the dishwasher from Elena's 3 cups of coffee the day before.
Elena pressed her eyebrows together in concern and let her hand fall from the table, only to point across the room at Cami who resided on the other side of the love seat. “Deeply entrenched, because of that one. Why? You know that you can’t let the media get to you, they rarely ever have something nice to say.”
Alex seemed to grow more somber as he started the dishwasher and settled on the barstool next to hers. “Well I was going to ask about if you knew who the Grid Gremlin account was run by, they have been finding truly heinous photos of me. But.. yeah I guess the media has bad things to say about me too. Which is just frustrating, you know?” His shoulders slumped and Alex placed his forearms on the marble counter, looking ahead at the stove top on the other side of the kitchen. “They built the car for Max, and Max is… so particular. It is almost impossible to stay consistent if you aren't him, driving like him.”
It was clear he was choosing his words wisely because he knew how Elena felt about his teammate too. “All I am saying is, it's hard to prove myself if my equipment isn’t built for me. And you can’t share this with anyone but…” He took in a little bit of a huff, “I don’t think Redbull will be welcoming me back with open arms next year.” He muttered, looking defeated.
Elena let the tension that had settled in her shoulders fall. Instead scooting closer to Alex, placing a hand on his forearm, rubbing it with her thumb. “Redbull latches onto their successes and are quick to throw others. Max is consistent so they take care of that. But, I have no doubt that you will find where you belong. You will always be at home in this paddock.”
The sound of a phone alarm suddenly rang from somewhere underneath George’s body over on the arm chair. He jerked awake violently, tangled himself further in the blanket, and muttered something deeply British and incomprehensible under his breath while blindly trying to silence it.
From the couch, Lando groaned. “I hate that, can’t you choose an alarm sound other than world ending suffering.”
The apartment slowly began to wake after that.
Cami emerged from the guest bathroom wearing one of Elena’s hoodies and holding a toothbrush in her mouth while scrolling through her phone. George found the last of Marcos' expensive coffee. Lando complained dramatically about his spine as he waited for his drink. Alex made toast nobody asked for but everyone eventually ate anyway.
It felt strange but warm. She felt like surviving something that ugly, had stitched everyone a little closer overnight.
By ten, Cami had organized the boys into helping finish the last storage run. Apparently the storage unit must have been rather big, or the boys were stacking it floor to ceiling and rigging it to all tumble out when Marco eventually retrieved his stuff.
“You’re not coming?” Lando asked Elena as Cami grabbed the keys.
“Nope,” Cami answered immediately, turning to look at her best friend. “You need one peaceful hour before these idiots return and we finish putting this mess back together.”
“Rude,” George muttered.
“Can you blame her? Plus, you snored all last night.” Alex corrected as the three boys, and Cami walked down the stairs and out to the box truck. The blur of voices and complaints about traffic quieted until the condo felt peaceful again.
Elena stood alone in the kitchen holding her coffee, looking around at all the places that once held memories, now new ones, from last night took their place. She was getting ready to call her Mother to break the news when the doorbell rang.
She frowned slightly.
Nobody knocked on doors anymore, it was always a call or text first, or they just barged in the front door, plus all the boys had just gone to the storage locker.
The bell rang again.
When Elena opened the door, Max Verstappen stood there in a black hoodie and sunglasses despite the cloudy English weather, holding what looked like a spaceship. What the… It took her a full second to realize it was a pet backpack. One of the nice clear dome ones.
Just when Elena went to open her mouth to ask what he was doing there, Max turned the backpack around so the plexiglass faced her. Inside sat a tiny orange Maine Coon kitten blinking up at her with massive paws and a deeply unimpressed expression with curious eyes.
Elena stared.
The kitten stared back.
Max shifted, leaning onto his left hip more, uncomfortable at the silence while trying to not drop the two bags of groceries he held in his left hand and the cat backpack in his right. Finally, he spoke while slipping into the doorway past her. “You needed company.”
Her brain visibly struggled to catch up. “Max…”
One bag was overflowing with supplies, from what she could see, cat food, toys, and a scratching post that was still in the packaging.
“You bought me a cat?” she asked weakly as she took a knee, directly in front of the backpack, placing a finger up against one of the air holes for the kitty to smell.
“Technically,” Max corrected, setting down the second bag which held kitty litter and some treats, “I adopted him for you. Paperwork’s under your name.”
Elena blinked at him. “You did paperwork?”
“I can read, Elena.”
“That was not my question.”
Max ignored her entirely, crouching to unzip the backpack. The kitten immediately climbed halfway out before dramatically slipping, having not waited for the unzipped space to be wide enough. He reached his little arms out and caught himself, clinging to Max’s jeans with tiny claws.
“Oh my god,” Elena laughed softly as the kitten dangled there stubbornly refusing to let go.
“He bites,” Max informed her calmly.
The kitten hissed at absolutely nothing.
“Wonderful.”
Max carefully peeled him off his leg before setting him onto the floor where he immediately marched three feet forward with the confidence of a lion before falling sideways onto the rug.
Elena felt something in her chest wiggle and lighten up as she watched the little furrball run around. Enough that she crouched down slowly beside the little guy, fingers brushing gently through soft orange fur while the kitten looked up at her with enormous gold eyes.
“He’s fluffy,” she murmured.
“He is a Mainecoone, about 4 weeks old,” Max corrected.
As if on cue, the kitten attacked the string of her hoodie, which made her laugh again, settling onto the ground entirely to handle the kitten.
Max leaned against the kitchen counter watching her for a moment with that same unreadable expression he always wore when he cared too much about something to acknowledge it directly.
The thing about Max was that he loved people sideways. Whether it was family, coworkers, friends, or a secret love that no one could know about. His love was never entirely direct, or soft, it was mostly shown through action. That was enough.
His love lied in buying someone a cat less than twenty four hours after heartbreak because he knew silence would swallow them alive otherwise.
Elena swallowed hard around the sudden pressure in her throat. “I love him already,” she admitted quietly before glancing up at Max. “But how am I supposed to take care of a cat during race weekends?”
Max shrugged. “The little bull can stay in Monaco.”
Elena blinked, “Bull?” As if on cue, the kitten rammed into her stomach with his full force, like a goat using its horns. His full force wasn’t much, but she laughed again. “Well… okay then little bull.”
She looked back down at him thoughtfully. Bull. Strength. Chaos. Stubbornness.
Toro.
It fit embarrassingly well.
“Toro,” she said softly, scratching a finger under his little chin, making him purr like an engine.
Max nodded once, a smile twitching onto his face. “Toro, as in Bull? I feel like you are creating a prophecy of some kind. Something about a bull in a china shop.”
She snorted, then the rest of his sentence caught up with her. “Wait. Monaco?”
“Jimmy and Sassy stay with the pet sitter already,” he said simply. “Toro can stay with them during race weekends.”
Elena stared at him. “I am not flying my cat from England to Monaco every other week.”
Max looked genuinely confused by the objection. “Then move to Monaco.”
Silence.
Elena blinked slowly. “Excuse me?”
“You need a new start.”
He said it so plainly, like it was obvious. Like rebuilding her life on the other side of Europe was just the next practical step in her healing, in her career. How could he be thinking that?
Max reached over to steal her coffee before continuing casually, moving to pour more coffee into the mug before taking a sip himself, “Alex agrees.”
“Alex Albon? The one who was here ten minutes ago.”
“Yes. Spoke about it yesterday morning.”
“You two discussed relocating me like an injured rescue animal?”
“Well you don’t need to be here anymore, places you shared with him should be paved over, knocked down.”
“Max.” It had always been clear to Elena that Max wasn’t Marco’s biggest fan but this was to an extent that she had not expected.
“And Daniel said he knows a building with openings.”
Elena stared at him in disbelief.
“Lewis offered to help with a couple contacts,” Max continued, counting off on his fingers now. “Valtteri said the quieter side near Fontvieille would probably suit you better because you hate tourists-”
“Max!”
He finally stopped talking.
“You told everyone?” she demanded, now holding Toro under her left arm like some sort of briefcase as he tried to wiggle away.
Max’s expression shifted into something almost defensive for the first time since arriving. “Not everyone.”
“Who exactly qualifies as not everyone?”
Max hesitated, which was already extremely suspicious. Max was not a hesitant man. “Elena…”
“Max Emilian Verstappen, tell me right now or Οπότε βοηθήστε με, θα καλέσω τον Τσαρλς. ”
“Daniel. Charles obviously. Lewis. Valtteri.” He paused briefly. “Charles told Pierre.”
She stared at him, cheeks turning from their usual cool tan to a flushed tone of red, both from embarrassment and frustration.
“And Yuki overheard Pierre.”
“Fantastic.”
“He was very angry for you.”
“How comforting. So the entire grid knows my boyfriend cheated on me and we broke up.”
“They don’t know he cheated, I left it vague, except Charles and Pierre.” Max took another sip of her coffee as if that would give her time to cool down. “Not the entire grid. Carlos doesn’t know.”
A strange sensation washed over her, not exactly relief but not disappointment, maybe it was just uncertainty which was worse.
Elena looked back down at the kitten now attempting to climb her sweatshirt sleeve like a mountain.
Her chest tightened unexpectedly from the way Max had said it so casually. Carlos doesn’t know. Like maybe it mattered, like maybe Max had noticed things Elena herself had spent years trying very hard to ignore. Max didn’t notice things, Max was the king of being oblivious to things, especially feelings and emotions. Was there something she missed? Did someone spell it out for him?
She lifted Toro onto her chest before he could continue his violent ascent toward her shoulder. The kitten immediately shoved his face beneath her chin and started purring loud enough to vibrate.
Elena shut her eyes. The apartment was still messy, her relationship was still over, and her future still looked terrifyingly uncertain. But standing there in the middle of the wreckage holding a tiny violent orange cat while Max silently unpacked litter into her bathroom like this was the most normal thing in the world, Elena realized that perhaps it would take days, weeks, or months, but it was for certain that in order to move on, she needed to make some changes. Starting with the little bull in her arms, and maybe a new place to call home.
If you are looking for the Master List, you can find that Here!
Pairing: Carlos Sainz Jr x OC (Elena Vasilakis)
Summary: The rookies show up in a hurricane of attempts to remove traces of Marco from the apartment, until he actually calls and Elena has to make some decisions.
Disclaimer: Minors DNI, Cheating, These are Fake Instagram Posts and Text Messages to farther encourage world building of the fic.
Authors Note: 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.
If you are looking for the Master List, you can find that Here!
Pairing: Carlos Sainz Jr x OC (Elena Vasilakis)
Summary: The rookies show up in a hurricane of attempts to remove traces of Marco from the apartment, until he actually calls and Elena has to make some decisions.
Disclaimer: Minors DNI, Cheating, These are Fake Instagram Posts and Text Messages to farther encourage world building of the fic.
Authors Note: 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.
