The echoing sound of giggling children and whispered secrets had become commonplace around the karting circuits ever since that fateful day when Cielo had found Max crying to himself behind the garages.

When she had finally been able to coax him out of the alley, she had taken his small hand in hers and dragged the poor boy all the way to her parents and promptly introduced him as her new best friend.

The blond boy looked so flustered at the thought of being anybody's best friend that Cielo's parents couldn't help but coo at the child. Her father, having only been at this event with the sole purpose of writing a story about Max, quickly accepted the boy as one of his own. It didn't matter what the outcome of his races were now, due to the fact that he had made his daughter smile, Cielo's father decided that any and all articles he wrote about Max Verstappen would be positive only.

Although there was an obvious language barrier between the two, it did little to stop them. When Max wasn't busy training or listening to his father's tirades about his quote-unquote 'poor performance', he could be found at Cielo's side, sitting against a wall or beneath a tree, teaching the girl his native language of Dutch.

The same went the other way around, Cielo could often be spotted gesturing wildly to a very bewildered but encouraging Max as she explained the differences between certain pretenses of phrases.

"How do you say this," Max said and wrote something down on his notepad. His navy blue T-shirt stretched tightly across his shoulders as he hunched over. The two children were sprawled out in the grass surrounding the track, safely tucked away from the blazing heat of the sun beneath a large oak tree. It had been a couple of months since the two had met and yet they still treated each time they were together as their first, sweet and shy but slowly warming up to the other as time went on.

Cielo, who was dressed in a pair of jean overalls and a baby blue T-shirt, her hair pulled back into two braids that were tied off at the ends with delicate white ribbons, leaned over to read what Max had written and smiled.

"Quieres fresas," she translated easily, "That would be a question if you were saying, but I am telling so it's not."

Max, ever the dutiful student, nodded his head seriously and wrote down what she had said. His tongue poking out between his lips in concentration as well as his brows furrowing. Once he was done, he looked up at Cielo with his bright blue eyes and smiled so wide his cheeks turned red.

"So do you?" he asked her after a moment.

"Do I what?"

"Want strawberries," he elaborated, moving the notepad out of his lap and setting it on the grass. "I've raced here before and I know this place that has very good ones made with cream."

If she hadn't already been smiling, Cielo's expression would've lit up like a Christmas tree at the offer. Biting back a smile she leaned forward slightly, resting her elbows on her thighs, "You want to buy me fresas con crema?"

Max's head tilted to the side, "Is that what they're called in Spanish?"

She nodded eagerly, "Yes! They're so good. My mama makes them for me all the time."

"Oh?" Max's smile widened. "So you like them a lot?"

"They're one of my favorites." Cielo smiled bashfully.

"Ok," Max heaved himself up onto his feet and dusted off his clothes carefully before extending a hand to Cielo who was still sat on the ground watching Max's actions in confusion. "Come on, let's go."

"You're serious?" Cielo beams as she takes hold of Max's hand and lets herself be pulled up until she too is standing on her own two feet.

"Yes," was the only response she received before Max was dragging her away from the track and down the street. Their hands still firmly intertwined.

"Maxie, we will get in trouble," she cautioned, worried about what their parents might think if the two suddenly went missing. "My papa will go crazy."

"Do not worry, Cici," Max responded, unbothered. "We will be back before he notices."

"But what about Jos?" The use of Max's father's first name was not a surprise, Cielo had taken to only referring to him as Jos or Mr. Verstappen given the fact that Max had been crying because of him when they met.

She might not be old enough to completely understand the implications of what that meant, but she was old enough to know that she hated him for it.

"My dad is busy, I doubt he will even notice I'm not by his side until a few hours," he continued unperturbed. Unwilling to let Cielo worry about the consequences he would surely face for leaving the track unsupervised.

"Okay, if you say so," she held onto his hand tighter.

It was still so surreal to Cielo that she now had someone she could look forward to seeing every other weekend. So accustomed to being thrust around the world, country to country, only to be forced to spend a weekend miserable and alone.

It was a breath of fresh air, arriving at a new track and being able to spot a familiar face within the masses. She didn't know exactly when she had begun anticipating traveling to a new country rather than dreading it, but she could say in complete confidence that it had everything to do with the awkward blue-eyed, blonde-haired boy that she now called her best friend.

Max who, despite having every reason not to want to associate himself with her, still spoke to her with kindness and respect. Who looked at her as an equal rather than an outsider or nuisance. Who smiled at her and laughed when she made bad jokes and didn't discourage her when she forgot how to say certain things in English.

It was an amazing feeling.

After a hasty journey toward a small family-run ice cream shop, the pair came out each holding a cup of strawberries and cream in their small hands.

Max took a big bite of his own, gesturing for Cielo to follow suit. "Try it, it is good. Trust me."

"I do trust you," she giggled, doing as she was told but stopping just before the spoon could meet her mouth when she caught sight of the look Max was giving her. "What?"

"Really? You do?" his voice was small, like he couldn't believe what he had just heard.

"Do what?"

"Trust me."

Cielo didn't understand why Max looked so bemused by this information. It was obvious to anybody who looked at the two of them that she trusted the Dutch boy with all of her, despite only knowing the other for at most six months.

It was a bit ridiculous really, the fact that Cielo had taken one look at this stubborn and headstrong boy and decided that he was worth risking getting hurt by. One conversation and she'd decided that this was the person she wanted to be her best friend. No second-guessing, no reservations. Just pure and unadulterated trust.

"Obviously, I do," she said slowly. "Max, I would not think of you as my mejor amigo if I did not. I told you when we met, you are good. You are kind. I would not say that if I did not think it was true."

"Thank you," he told her softly. He had spoken the words in Dutch because he knew they would mean more to her if he'd said them in his native language. In the same way that Cielo stubbornly stuck to referring to him as 'best friend' in Spanish, Max had developed the habit of speaking things of importance to her in Dutch.

Cielo grinned, her crooked upper canines on full display. She had no reason to be self-conscious around Max, he thought she was everything no matter the imperfections, "No thanks, it is fact."

❛ ━━･❪ ✫ ❫ ･━━ ❜

The easy part of having an assignment such as this was that Cielo already had a paddock and press pass. So trying to procure one in order to gain access to her target wasn't going to be a problem.

The problem came in when she was trying to decide how she wanted to approach this. It had been years since the last time she'd seen Max face to face, but she didn't want to take any chances. Couldn't risk ruining her entire 'mission' just because she was naive enough to think that Max wouldn't recognize her.

After all, he had spent years running after and being chased by her. Cielo's curly head of hair was probably burned into his retinas...hopefully haunting him for the rest of his days.

Seated at the breakfast bar of her apartment, pouring over every piece of public information about Max since then, Cielo created a game plan. If she was being honest with herself, she didn't know how she would react to seeing Max in person again. Face-to-face. It was a nerve-wracking prospect, one that she didn't think she'd ever have to face.

Sighing softly, Cielo spun on the barstool she sat on and leaned back against the sturdy breakfast bar. Her apartment was, what most people would consider, large. It overlooked the bustling city where she lived, the skyline in perfect view to be aligned with the sunset in the evenings. Her furniture consisted of vastly different shades of blue, ranging from pastels to deep navy.

Her mother liked to tease her about being obsessed with the color blue but Cielo argued vehemently that it was just an aesthetically pleasing choice and nothing had influenced her decision in picking the color whatsoever. No, not at all.

Except, of course, the painful reminders of what once was that sat on her mantle—but she didn't like to think about that.

"What am I going to do?" she whispered to herself.

Well, the question itself was redundant because Cielo knew exactly what she was going to do. The real question was if she was really willing to go through with all of this just for pretty vindication.

It was an inner turmoil, the fight between leaving the past behind and forgotten or bringing forward all the settled emotions of betrayal and heartbreak just to say goodbye forever. The decision between clinging onto the very ghosts that haunt you or finally letting go of the last traces of a childhood filled with smiles and faded memories.

As Cielo thinks about the pros and cons, her eyes unknowingly begin to drift toward one of the framed photos on her mantle. It was an older photo, depicting a pair of children—one blonde boy and one brunette girl—who were both sporting matching mischievous smiles as they looked toward whoever was taking the picture. The girl had wild curls that were being blown in every direction by the wind, including directly into the boy's face behind her, but he didn't seem to mind. Leaning against her shoulder, the boy himself was, what looked like, attempting to tickle the girl beside him. Thus explaining the mischievous smile plastered on his young face.

The photo was framed in an old wood frame that had been painted a rich blue and decorated with foam flowers and butterflies—it was obviously a child's work. Written on the frame with two separate sets of handwriting was the phrase: 'Maxie and Cici, mejores amigos para siempre'.

How did that turn out for you? She thought bitterly once she realized where her gaze had drawn. The happiness etched into her younger self's face only solidified Cielo's decision and got rid of any reservations she had left about what she was doing.

She was doing this for her. The little girl who was too happy and naive, and all the pain that she had yet to experience. The pain she didn't ask for nor deserve.

A lone tear found its way down her cheek. It did well in shocking Cielo back to the present, so lost in her mind that she hadn't even noticed her vision beginning to blur and a pain beginning to bloom within her chest. Even after all these years, the hurt was still there—fresh as if the pain had just been dealt.

Standing quickly, Cielo moved with fierce determination as she made her way into her bathroom. Digging through her cabinets frantically searching for something she'd stored in them years ago, she let out a triumphant cry and straightened up again to view herself in the mirror—item in hand.

Cielo took great precautions to help keep and maintain her curls and it was a point of pride with her that she'd never gone and done anything to irreversibly damage them. Having known other people her age who have and never gotten their curls back to their former glory, Cielo promised herself that she would never do to her hair what others did to theirs.

I'm so sorry, she told herself as she took the hair straightener she had fished out from the depths of her bathroom cabinets and plugged it in.

Knowing this was a move that she could not back down from, Cielo told herself that it was necessary. She had to do this. Couldn't risk Max recognizing her and having this entire thing ruined just because she was dumb enough to think it'd been long enough. She knew that he wouldn't recognize her face—no longer was she the baby-faced girl of her youth—but her hair had always been her defining feature.

Always the first thing he used to look out for when searching for her during race weeks; she knew it was the first thing she'd have to change before all this started.

Picking up the now-heated straightener and taking a big curl into her grasp, Cielo began her process. The hiss of the heat as it came into contact with her healthy hair felt like a stab to the heart, but she simply grit her teeth and pushed through. No backing out now, she told herself. It's all going to be worth it in the end.

When she looks at herself in the mirror from now on, what she sees staring back at her won't be an echo of the girl she once was. Happy and bright and full of hope for what the future held for her. Instead, she will be born anew. A completely different woman, one who hadn't blindly trusted a man with all of her and had it torn from her, one who hadn't wasted years of her life on someone who didn't value their relationship in the same way that she had. Someone who didn't treasure their stolen moments, secret smiles, and inside jokes. Someone who saw the way she looked at him with utter adoration and slapped her in the face with the harsh reality of the real world.

It will all be worth it. It has to be.

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄

And Chapter 2 has finally arrived!

Here we explored a bit more of Cielo's feelings about Max and her decision regarding why she took the assignment even though she hates being a gossip.

Obviously, Maxielo used to be friends so, any guesses on what happened between them to cause such a resentment from her?

As always, thank you for reading and please don't be afraid to comment your thoughts throughout your read! I love comment spams!

until next time,

charley xx.