#formula 1 imagine

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Photo credits to thesportsrush & Somin Bhattacharjee

Word count: 3,102

Written by raelee / Posted May 27th

F1 Masterlist

“Franny,” I knock on the open door to my manager’s office, causing her to look up from the papers she was reading over. “I was just wondering if I could leave early today, just by like an hour. I have a paper due at midnight that I’ve barely started, and the girls-””Y/N, no need to explain yourself, of course you can leave an hour early,” my manager reassures me.

She looks at me closer, studying me, and her smile fades. “Are you alright, honey? You look really tired.”

“Yeah, I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night, and it’s been a stressful day,” I respond honestly. I’m ready for this day to be over. Ada cried this morning because we didn’t have any blueberries- she doesn’t even like blueberries- Lucy threw a fit because I told her she couldn’t wear her winter boots in July, my professor yelled at us because some students wouldn’t stop talking during class, and I can’t stop thinking of the Grand Prix at Silverstone.

All of it is making me anxious. I haven’t seen my family in months because of their disapproval and our work schedules and my school schedule, so they haven’t seen how much the girls have developed. I’m afraid that once they see how big they’ve gotten, they’re going to become angry at me once again for not taking the girls back home to spend more time with them while they’re still young.

And I’m also nervous because of the chance of seeing Charles. When I worked with Lando and we went to Grand Prixs, I would follow him around the paddock because he’s friends with everyone and wanted to talk with all of his friends. If I went to the paddock with my daughters and saw Charles, I don’t know how it would go. I wouldn’t know what to say. I wouldn’t know what to do. He’s a smart man, there might be a chance that he would be able to put the pieces together and get angry before I could come up with the courage to say ‘they’re your daughters.’ And we would have to deal with the aftermath then…

I need to put a plan in place to make sure that doesn’t happen.

“Well, sweetheart, you’re free to leave whenever you want. Go home, write that paper, and give those babies kisses,” Franny gives me a comforting smile, one that I return before exiting her office.

“I’m leaving early tonight,” I inform Kylie as I walk past her.

“Sounds good. Table five wants some attention,” she winks at me.

I nod, grabbing table five’s food as I walk past the kitchen and head out to the dining area. The table of four young men sees me coming, one nudging his blonde friend sitting beside him with a playful smirk.

“Your girl’s coming,” he attempts to keep his voice down, but I still hear him.

I can’t help but raise my eyebrows. It’s not often that customers around my age come into the restaurant considering its formal ambiance. Usually it’s older, rich couples who call it a date night but spend the whole time on their phones, avoiding discussion with one another except for a quick update from the wife on what the kids are up to, or business partners who want to have a tense discussion but attempt to make it appear casual over dinner.

“Here you are,” I state, setting down the various plates in front of the correct customer. I give them my polite, customer service smile. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

I check on a few other tables, pouring more refills and taking some orders, subtly checking my watch as the minutes tick by. As I stop by table five to pick up the receipt that was signed, I notice a scrawled phone number at the bottom. I can’t help but pause, staring at it.

Honestly, since I became pregnant, I haven’t had a lot of attention from men. During the nine months that I was pregnant, the lack of attention was obviously because of the pregnancy. College boys aren’t really looking to take care of someone else’s child, let alone two newborn girls, and I wasn’t really looking to date anyone much older than me. And ever since the girls were born, I’ve just been focused on them, work, and school. They’re at such a young and crucial age where I want to spend as much time with them as I can, and I want to earn my degree as fast as possible to be in a good place financially where they can grow up with various opportunities.

At seven o’clock I get ready to leave, grabbing my bag from the break room and heading out the front door towards my car. I’m startled to see someone rise from the bench outside of the restaurant as soon as the front doors close behind me.

“Table five,” I murmur once I recognize the blonde man.

His eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Sorry?”

“No, it’s just,” I shake my head, slightly embarrassed by my slip of tongue. “Just saying how I know you.”

He gives me a gentle smile, one that I return.

“Um, I just wanted to apologize for what happened back there,” he juts his thumb uncomfortably towards the restaurant, “For leaving my phone number on the bill. My mates kinda made me, because I was just gushing about how beautiful you are all night.”

I blush at his kind words. “Well, thank you.”

He nods, letting out an awkward cough. “Uh, I’m Duncan, by the way.”

“Y/N,” I respond, reaching out to shake his hand. We’re left in a silence.

“I’m sorry,” he rubs the back of his neck, “I didn’t mean to make this so awkward, it’s just, you’re stunning and I don’t want to make you so uncomfortable that you never want to speak with me again.”

I laugh. “You’re doing fine, Duncan, I promise.”

He gives me a relieved smile. “Hey, would you maybe like to go grab ice cream with me?”

“Right now?”

“I mean, yeah, I was thinking right now,” his smile begins to fade.

“I can’t right now,” I admit.

“Oh…” It’s clear from the look on his face that he thinks that I’m just giving him a non committal answer so that I can appear polite while giving him the hint to never speak to me again. It’s not how I’m feeling. Duncan seems like a good person, and even though we may not date because my life is so chaotic right now, he would be a good friend.

“No, it’s not to avoid you, Duncan,” I say quickly, “I just- I want to get home to my kids.”

“Kids?” His eyes widen in surprise. “But you look like you’re like, twenty.”

“I am,” I laugh, “I got pregnant young.”

“And then you got pregnant again right away?” He looks flabbergasted. “I’m sorry, that’s so rude of me to ask-””No, I had twins.”

“So… do the twins like ice cream?” He questions.

“They do, but they go to bed in an hour,” I begin to head towards my car, holding up my phone, “I’ll text you, Duncan.”

“Oh, you actually saved my phone number?”

“Of course I did, you gave me a nice tip,” I wink, dipping into the driver’s seat.

My heart pounds on the drive home. I’m not sure if I feel so energized because I like Duncan, or if it’s because I haven’t talked to a man in a romantic sense in such a long time. A tinge of guilt stings at me. In a weird way, I can’t help but feel like I’m cheating on Charles. We never actually dated, despite spending the majority of our free time together and doing things that couples do, like eating together, having sex, and holding hands. And it’s not like we’re dating now- I haven’t seen him in over two years.

He’s probably moved on by now anyways. He probably has some beautiful brunette who models on the side that attends all of his races, cheering him on and holding his hand in public, things that I would never do.

~

Silverstone arrives too soon for my liking. I was hoping that I would have more time to mentally prepare for seeing my family, Charles, and going to races again, but it’s the night before the race and I’m boiling noodles and buttering bread while the girls play with each other in their bedroom.

My phone begins to ring with an incoming call and I crack a smile when I see that it’s Flo. “Hey Flo.”

“Hey Y/N,” she sniffles through the phone. “So, listen, dad gave the whole family this really bad cold and Oliver had to go on a sudden business trip. So, none of us can go to the race tomorrow.”

My heart drops at her words. I’m left speechless. What am I supposed to do now? I was hoping the family would act as a buffer between me and Lando, and me and all of the other drivers. I was also beginning to look forward to their reactions to seeing Ada and Lucy. I was hoping that their excitement to see the girls would change my negative outlook on our situation.

“Oh. Okay.”

“Sorry. Maybe you can come over for lunch sometime when we’re feeling better?” She suggests.

“Oh, that’s a far drive for us, but maybe.”

She’s quiet, like she wants to say something else. But I don’t want her to. I don’t want to hear her apologize for not being able to go to Silverstone- I understand that the whole family is sick or busy, but that doesn’t make the situation any easier to deal with emotionally. I don’t want to hear another reason why I should go out to our family home to visit when no one ever comes out to London to visit me and my daughters. I don’t want to hear her tell me how excited Lando is to see me or anything like that.

I don’t want to hear it.

“I’ll call you later, okay?” I say before she can say anything else.

“Okay,” she responds hesitantly, “Call me on Monday to tell me about the race.”

“Sure. Bye.” I hang up the phone before she can reply.

I don’t have a lot of time to think about our conversation after that. I get time to be angry for about two minutes before Ada cries from the bedroom, a red mark on her forehead from the block that Lucy threw at her. I give the two dinner, play with their dolls with them, give them baths, read them a night time story and tuck them into bed. It’s when I get the chance to sit down on the couch, barely paying attention to the crappy reality show playing on the TV that I get the chance to think.

Why am I putting myself through this?

Why am I putting myself through so much stress, anxiety, and anticipation for a family who has never shown the same amount of affection for me? The rage can’t help but circulate through my veins. I know they’re my family, and I know their attitudes towards me and my daughters have improved, but their actions haven’t.

My mind can’t help but drift back to their first birthday party. Lando had an excuse- he was racing in Brazil, but the rest of the family gave me half-hearted excuses to not attend their birthday party. Some of their friends from daycare showed up, and so did a few of my co-workers that I invited, but none of my family did and it was noticeable. I tried to put on a happy face, it was my daughters’ first birthday party after all, but I slipped into the play center’s bathroom and cried for the familial loss.

If family skips out on each other’s events, what would keep me wanting to go to Silverstone?

I bite my lip at the thought. I didn’t want to go to the race in the first place. Putting seeing Charles to the side, because that’s an obvious reason for anxiety, I’m also unprepared to see Lando.

To go from being my best friend to a brother that I maybe see at a family holiday party, has been a huge shift in our relationship. To be honest, I don’t know much about him right now, and he doesn’t know much about me either. What would we even talk about if I were to go tomorrow?

My phone rings on the cushion next to me, and my heart skips a beat when I see the familiar picture of me with my arms wrapped around Lando’s shoulders as he holds the third place trophy in his hands, both of us beaming at the camera. I remember the moment this was taken.  Lando had gotten third place in Austria, and my throat had gone raw with how much I had cheered for him.

I answer the phone before it stops ringing. “Hello?”

“Hey,” he coughs awkwardly, “How are you?”

“I’m doing good, how are you?”

“I’m good.” He pauses. “How are Lucy and Ada?”

“They’re good too.”

“That’s good.”

We’re left in an awkward silence, unsure of what to say or who should speak first. I consider just hanging up the phone because of how uncomfortable it is, but that wouldn’t go well at the next Christmas dinner.

“Did Flo call you and tell you that they can’t come anymore tomorrow?” He questions.

“She did,” I nod, despite him not being able to see me. I shift to look out of the patio door and gaze at the city lights of London. Maybe this beautiful view can ease some of the tension, at least on my side.

“I just wanted to call and let you know that I’d still like you to come. Actually, scratch that, I’d love it if you and Lucy and Ada could still come to the race to support me,” he says, the words taking me by surprise.

I don’t know why his words shock me so much. I should expect it, because of the history of our close relationship and the fact that he should want to see and spend time with his nieces. But we haven’t talked in so long, so I wasn’t expecting him to call me and tell me something so personal.

I guess I’m quiet for too long because he pleads, “Please, Y/N, say something.”

“I don’t know, Lando,” I confess, swallowing the tears and trying my best to fight off the oncoming anxiety attack. At least until I end this phone call.

“What can I do to convince you? I’ll send a driver to pick you up, I’ll give you money if you’re missing work for the day, I’ll-””It’s not that,” I can’t fight back the sob and I hear his breath hitch at the noise. “It’s just- it’s going to be awkward.”

“You’re afraid that it’s going to be awkward?” He confirms quietly.

“Yes! We haven’t seen each other in months and we haven’t talked a lot during that time either-””And that’s your fault,” he interrupts. Once he hears another sob leave my lips, he quickly goes, “I’m sorry, that was rude and inconsiderate of me, I’m really sorry for that.”

“No, but you’re right,” I sniffle, wiping at the tears falling. “And I feel bad that you’re right because we used to be so close.”

“Don’t feel guilty,” he reassures me, “There’s no sense in that. Just come to the race tomorrow, bring the girls, and we can talk if you want to and if you don’t want to, we don’t have to. I just want to see you and the girls, all that you really share is pictures and videos of them on your private Instagram story.”

“How do you know about my private story?”

“I’m not naming names.”

“Albon,” I curse under my breath.

His laugh confirms my accusation. “Well, you can yell at him about it if you come to the race tomorrow. I don’t want to pressure you, but I miss all three of you.”

I can hear the genuine yearning in his voice. It must be hard to travel the world by yourself- you have your team and competitors with you, but they’re not people who know every part of you like your family does. And then to come home and not see your full family must be difficult.

I can’t imagine how he’s feeling with the rest of the family missing the race tomorrow and me in limbo. Maybe that’s what affects my response.

I let out a deep sigh, like his begging wore me down. “Fine, I guess we’ll go to your race tomorrow.”

“Yes!” I pull the phone away from my ear, letting out a laugh as he cheers. “You will not regret this, I promise!”

“But do not send a car, Lando,” I warn, “And don’t you dare give me any money.”

“Sure,” I can tell he’s lying through his teeth. “I’ll leave your passes with my assistant. Do you still have a Norris shirt? Do the girls still have their McClaren onesies?”

“They grew out of those a year ago, Lando.”

“Wow, babies grow fast,” he lets out a breath.

I roll my eyes but a smile tugs at my lips at his naiveness. “They do.”

My ears perk up as a sound comes from the girls room.

“I have to go,” I tell my brother.

“That’s fine, I’ll see you tomorrow,” it sounds like he’s reassuring himself more than talking to me. “I love you.”

“Bye, Lando.” I hang up, standing in the doorway to see that a stuffed animal has just fallen from Ada’s bed onto the floor.

I can’t help but see her resemblance to Charles when I look at her. With Ada, her resemblance is in her face structure, but with Lucy, the resemblance is in her nose shape. I hope I’m the only one who can see it because I know the other half of their genetics. I hope that when I go to the track tomorrow, no one else sees it, or God forbid, points it out.

I tilt my head to lean against the doorframe, my heart beating so fast that I’m afraid it’s going to burst out my chest. I can’t believe that I’m going to be doing this. Scratch that, I can’t believe that we’re going to be doing this. Me and my girls.

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