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celemilii · 2 months

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NOT IN LOVE; Fernando Alonso | 02; SOCIAL MEDIA IS WILD

a/n: hii, I hope you like this chapter, i'm really excited for the next ones. Tysm for reading <3

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March 26, Saudi Arabia

The heat emanating from the Jeddah Corniche Circuit triggers a terribly bad mood in me. When Toto asked me to wait for him and Susie so that the three of us could enter the paddock and so I could introduce myself to his wife, I didn't think I would have to wait for them under the 30º C sun. Still, in the meantime, I watch the fans arrive excitedly, running after every familiar face they recognize and becoming disappointed when they are ignored.

What a bitch, it doesn't cost them anything to stop for a second.

Well, in fact, it's not just a second if they stop with each person who approaches, it's a lifetime, and even I would be lazy.

“Victoria!” calls the voice of my boss behind me, accompanied by his wife who smiles when she sees me. Both are very elegant and give off that vibe to old-money to which I aspire. “Sorry to keep you waiting, you know how chaotic this is.”

"Yeah, it's okay," I simply respond before addressing the blonde. “I'm Victoria, Toto has told me a lot about you.”

“Just like you!” Susie exclaims in a friendly tone. The three of us begin to walk together towards the entrance of the paddock and that seems to attract the attention of several photographers who are waiting hungrily to have an exclusive photo of whoever crosses their path. "I hope you like the cameras, Vicky, because you're about to be in the public eye," she whispers mockingly and I decide to humor her, not getting upset by the nickname but, still, being aware of the bitterness it generates in me.

“Me? If they don't even know me, they'll look for you," I respond, laughing, a grimace that fades when I feel one of the lenses take photos of me. Not Toto or Susie, but me.

"You are a beautiful and single woman as far as I know, it won't take long for them to try to find you a partner," she explains, not in a spiteful or malicious way but as a warning. “Welcome to the world of the Formula 1 circus.”

“What's happening?” questions my boss “Have you regretted it yet?”

"No, but this wasn't in my contract," I remind him with a smile, clearly joking.

I went ahead of them, claiming that I had to finish organizing a couple of things on their agenda before the day started. I sneak as fast as I can to my team's garage to lock myself in there and get away from the cameras. What I was missing was for my mother to start getting desperate about wanting to use me as the face of the family business because of this.

I can already imagine her bragging about this to her friends while she is privately criticizing me, saying that I should do more with my life than just bring coffee. I already know her, but just as I know her, I learned not to care about anything she said, not even when she questioned me that I would have a shitty life if I dedicated myself to being a secretary.

My life before was different, yes. Better? I'm not sure but it is different. However, after my boyfriend broke up with me and got engaged to another woman four months later, with my brother supporting his decision, my dreams began to change.

It's not an excuse to justify the 180º turn I made but it's okay to take the time you need and slow down to put things in perspective. Redirect you. Was that what I wanted in my life? At that time, yes. I loved my job as global Human Resources Director at Repsol and then returned home and settled for the crumbs of affection that David, my boyfriend, gave me. But, now that he left me and I left my job, my dreams have changed, or perhaps, I've just replaced the old ones with news and improved ones that show me how much I can do without the need for some idiot to constantly validate me.

"Excuse me, Miss Cruz," one of the girls calls me shyly and I smile at her so she can speak with confidence. I don't know how long I was in my head but it seems like it was long enough for my frown to be noticeable for miles.

"Victoria is fine," I say before letting her speak.

“Clear. I wanted to tell you that when I arrived, this was on one of the tables,” she tells me, handing me a small wooden paper bag. “It has your name so I kept it.”

"Oh, thank you," I exclaim, confused. I look at the bag carefully until the seal that decorates it catches my attention: Bake-sonalities.

¿Bake-sonalities?

How did this get here?

I open the packaging carefully and look at the contents. The smell of the cinnamon cookie fills my nostrils, making me inhale and let out a sigh when I feel it. Hell, I'd pay Evie every day if it made me have cookies every day.

When I went with Ale I didn't have the opportunity to buy the cinnamon ones because there were no more so perhaps it was a gesture from her to try them. How nice, I'll thank her later.

I start eating it accompanied by the coffee I was drinking and enjoy the intense flavor exploding in my mouth. I would eat this every day.

“Toto!” I called him when he saw him arrive, remembering that I had to say something to him. “In half an hour you have to go to the press room for an interview with several of the other directors.”

“Is that the one they are going to record for Netflix?”

"No, that's going to be a while, I promise to let you know in advance for mental preparation," I mock.

“It will not only be mental preparation, someone has to tell Horner things to his face. Hey, by the way, what smells so good?”

“They are cookies from a pastry shop in London, you should go. The other day I went with a friend, I bought a dozen for myself and they were my dinner.”

“Were your dinner cookies?”

“You would understand if you tried them. Look, take a piece,” I offer and he cuts off a piece of cookie. Toto and I didn't have the best of starts. At first, it was difficult for me to keep up with the hundreds of meetings he has per day with the different sectors of the company, but once I managed to adapt, our relationship improved a lot.

"I'm not a big fan of this type of sweet," he admits before putting it in his mouth and testing the flavor. “Wow.”

“I know! They are delicious.”

“When you want to look good with your boss, you already know what to buy him.”

“And when my boss wants to look good with his secretary, you know what to buy him too.”

"Don't go too far, Cruz," he replies gracefully. “By the way, I hope you like the photos they took of you because your face is all over Twitter.”

“You don't pay me for this, Mr. Wolff, if you want me to be the face of the company you have to change my contract.”

“Talking about contracts. The other day, when Fernando went to the office,” I look at him with intrigue as I can't imagine what he might say, “I overheard some of the conversation but since you had it under control I didn't want to intrude and... I wanted to inform you that there is no clause that indicates that you cannot date people from other teams but you still have the confidentiality clause that…”

"I know my contract, Toto," I inform him. “I was a Human Resources Director before working here, I know how to read what they offer me. Anyway, I don't hang out with people from other teams, it's unethical. Well, what can I say, I don't date people and that's it.”

“Come on, Victoria, you are young, you should take advantage of that.”

“Passed. I'm fine without anyone bothering me.”

“Yes, but when you fall in love that person is anything but annoying and, if he is, you would consider him cute.”

“All that until the pink lens with which you see your partner breaks and you notice that she is actually annoying.”

“It depends on how you look at it but I think you won't know until you feel it.”

You won't know until you feel it.

As if I hadn't loved someone so much to the point of believing that it was what gave meaning to life.

As if I hadn't let the love I felt break me in two, making my heart accelerate uncontrollably.

As if I hadn't felt like I went to war and came back.

"You're right," I decide to play along so he'll leave me alone because I'm not able to imagine myself in a situation like the one my boss described again. I can't imagine anyone falling in love with even the parts that bother me the most. Not when those parts outweigh the few good ones I have. “We should go, today is a long day,” I put half of my cookie in my wallet and leave the garage accompanied by Toto.

(...)

Once I get back to the hotel and take a shower, I decide to call Ale since I wouldn't see her this weekend. As far as I understand, Sebastian had to process something about his divorce, so she would stay at home in peace.

“Victoria! There you are, how have you been?” she asks when our faces meet on the screen.

“You have no idea how hot it is in this fucking place. I swear, it's disgusting.”

"You're in a bad mood, message received," she mocks. “I'm sure it can't be that bad.”

“It's terrible but it doesn't end there. I was known by the friendly Twitter community and now there are photos of me with teenagers saying how cute I am, which doesn't bother me because it's true but there are several comments that are horrible. They are idiots.”

"Don't look at the networks," she recommends. “They are wild. They will eat you alive for whatever reason and especially on Twitter.”

“Yes, neither on Thursday nor yesterday did they recognize me and today because they wanted to socialize they took photos of me. The key is to stop talking to people,” I dramatize.

“No, don't be stupid. You'll see that everything will be fine,” someone talking to Ale catches his attention and mine too. I thought I was alone.

"But dad said I could eat one," a childish voice whispers.

"I already let you eat two and I told you that the previous one was the last, girls," she explains patiently. “When dad comes back we'll convince him to let you have another one, but that's enough for today, okay?”

“Can we talk to your friend?” asks another little voice in the same tone. Ale smiles at them, nodding and two girls can be seen on the screen.

"Hello, girls," I greet them sweetly and they seem embarrassed. “I'm Victoria, Ale's friend.”

"They are Seb's daughters," she informs. “I'm taking care of them while…”

"While dad is divorcing mom," explains the one who seems to be the oldest. “My name is Emily.”

“And I am Matilda,” the girl with blonde curls introduces herself next to her. “Do you know my dad?”

“In fact, I work in the same sport as him but I only saw him once because Ale introduced him to me.”

“Ah, yeah. And what are you going to give her for her birthday?”

“Whom?”

"Ale," Matilda answers obviously. I look at the Italian with intrigue and she explains.

“My birthday is April 8th but I don't know if I will do anything. You know these are difficult days,” complicated days equal difficult times with Sebastian and his divorce. “I would love to do something but I don't know.”

“I hate my birthday, I´ve never enjoyed any. They only mean gifts bought by my parents' secretaries, ostentatious parties and posh people who don't even know who the birthday girl is. April 19th was never my day”

"That can change..." Ale exclaims with a smile and the little girls support her.

“If you don't like your birthday we can have a girls' night!”

“With movies!”

“And skincare!”

“And lots of desserts from Evie!” the little ones squeal with excitement, which makes me laugh. I never had much contact with children throughout my life but, for some reason, I get along very well with them when they are around me.

"Well, it sounds like the perfect plan to me," my friend confirms. "What do you say?" Vettel's bright eyes make me completely melt before them and give in. That girls' night out doesn't have to turn into a birthday celebration.

"I would love to," I tell the girls. “Oh, Ale, I didn't tell you. I tried Evie's cinnamon cookie, it's delicious.”

“And where did you get it from?”

“Well, you sent it to me, right?” the Italian remains recalculating for a second before her usual smile appears on her face.

“Of course yes. I'm glad you liked it.”

“What hadn't been...?” Emily begins to ask and her sister tells her to shut up.

“We have to hang up, okay? It's time to prepare dinner and you should rest. Goodbye, say goodbye, girls,” without giving me a chance to reply, Ale hung up the call.

March 27, Saudi Arabia

On race day everything seems like a hurricane: Toto is stressed, the drivers are stressed, the engineers are stressed. I think I'm the only calm one here, although the pressure of the environment is slowly starting to affect me. Despite that, and not being a sports fan, a tingle appears in my stomach when I see and feel the cars up close.

“Toto, can I bring you a decaf or something fresh?” I offer before leaving the garage in search of an escape.

"A Whiskey on the Rocks wouldn't hurt," he jokes in an attempt to relax. “I accept the decaf, thank you.”

This Grand Prix brought many controversial opinions with it, including a near suspension of the race in the face of what appeared to be a terrorist attack nearby on Friday, but no one can deny how beautiful the illuminated track looks.

Walk through the area pit to look for coffee in the farthest place I can find while I eat the rest of yesterday's cookie. It's already a little hard but still delicious. I pass by the garages of Ferrari, McLaren and Alpine, whose color stands out among the rest. Or maybe it's just Alonso's clown face printed everywhere that stands out. I still can't believe that a forty-year-old man would be so immature as to...

"Fuck," I complain when I collide with someone because of that Asturian asshole. “Sorry, I wasn't looking.”

"Neither do I, so we're even," the boy with the French accent and the pilot's suit helps me get up from the ground with an awkward smile. I bend down again to look for the wrapping that I had also dropped and that seems to catch his attention.

“You know about Bake-sonalities!? It's my girlfriend's bakery, she's the owner.”

“You're Evie's boyfriend!” I say once I connect the dots in my head. "I'm obsessed with your girlfriend's cookies," I tell him and it's a matter of a second to realize that that phrase sounded better in my head. “That didn't sound good at all.”

“Not at all!” he answers laughing. “I can't believe you brought cookies for the race.”

“Oh, no, it was a gift.”

“A gift...?” the boy opens his mouth with clear surprise. The nervousness invading his body was evident and impossible to hide. “Excuse me, what is your name?”

"Victoria," I introduce myself, extending my hand for him to shake and, although he does, his grip is loose as he continues with such a surprise.

“I'm Esteban, Evie's boyfriend. And I... you…” he hesitates and looks repeatedly towards his team's garage. “I hope you liked the cinnamon cookie. I have to go... do driver things with my partner. Goodbye,” the Frenchman says goodbye. Since I started working here I have experienced many strange situations but this is another level.

Once I decide to focus on looking for the coffee I was trying to find, I return to the garage so as not to miss a single second of the start of the race. Toto had given me some headphones so that I could become more familiar with, according to him, the language used on the track. As the race goes by, my expectation rises higher and higher, as does the adrenaline that consumes my body every time I hear one of the vehicles approaching for a quick tire change.

“But is this guy an idiot or what? He didn't go once in boxes and he intends to fight against Hamilton," I accidentally complained out loud. Those present raise their eyes from the screen and look at me with surprise. Everyone knows I don't have the slightest idea what to do to win a race or whatever we're trying to do. “Sorry.”

"Welcome to the team, Victoria," congratulates my boss and several of the people who surrounded us, and with whom we usually share some moments during the weekend, patting my shoulder, following the joke.

I spent the rest of the race in silence, embarrassed that I said something wrong or that someone didn't like me. The Mercedes drivers weren't able to get on the podium at this circuit either, so Tuesday will be a long day at the office with Toto looking for culprits. I decided to leave when I noticed that I was beginning to have leftovers in the garage with my boss's permission, of course. Luckily, the parking lot is almost empty as several fans left the circuit several hours ago.

The flashing lights of the car next to mine catch my attention and I notice the owner when I turn around. Fernando looks defeated. I'm not sure if it's because of the shitty race he had or because that same shitty race fucked him up physically. He doesn't seem to notice me until I unlock my car too. We don't say anything or greet each other, we just stare at each other for a few seconds before he decides to break what seemed like a trance on the part of both of us. I smile kindly at him before getting into the vehicle and heading to my hotel for the last time of the weekend. However, I can't help but wonder what becomes of Fernando on nights like these.

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