𝟏𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐉𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐

As the sun shone through the large white curtains, I slowly woke up from my deep sleep. I felt a pounding headache and a sense of disorientation. Slowly my blurred vision came into focus and I found myself in a luxurious bedroom. My nose filled with the scent of roses as I allowed my eyes to adjust to the bright light. As i let my eyes glide through the room, I noticed a sculpture on a very vintage looking dresser and what caught my eye was the very luxurious painting hanging on the wall to my right. It was truly stunning and when I opened Instagram to capture it for my Story, I discovered that I had already posted one.

It was quite strange, because I couldn't remember posting last night. So I clicked on it.

I was amazed at how good this photo looks. I let out a laugh at the fact, that nobody actually looks that good in real life. I shook my head and clicked through some other Instagram Stories, when I discovered that Marielle had posted quite a few. Some of her partying in the crowd, one of her and Lewis posing in a mirror they probably found somewhere around the property and one of her and my reflection posing in front of some glass doors. I have no memory of this whatsoever, but I made myself a mental note to text her later and ask her to send me the picture straight away. As I swiped the photo away, I landed on a Story that seemed incredibly familiar. My head was still hurting like hell, so I had a bit of trouble focusing on the person in it.

Oh, that's me. Then I looked at the user and my eyes widened. No. fucking. way.

Seeing myself in Pierre Gasly's Instagram Story was one thing, but seeing the man come out of the bathroom shirtless at the exact same moment was something else entirely. My surprise must have been obvious, because he flashed me a charming smile. "You're staring"

That's when I looked down and oh my, that was a mistake. My eyes wouldn't leave a single thing on his well defined body unobserved, when Pierre slowly made his way over to the bedside, coming to a stop right in front of me. He placed two fingers under my chin, forcing me to meet his eyes.

"If you keep looking at me like that, I will have to take you all over again, Mademoiselle", he grinned. I was still speechless, somehow overwhelmed by all the new information at the moment. But there wasn't much to interpret, it was obvious that I had fucked a Formula 1 driver last night. One of the most handsome ones too.

Being the best friend to Lewis Hamilton and a close friend of Arthur Leclerc has its advantages. Like being able to hang with insanely rich people or being invited to the most exclusive parties. But it's not always fun, mainly because the drivers' fans tend to genuinely hate you. For no fucking reason. I'm not unknown myself, I know how to deal with the fame and the pressure that people love to put you under. But these crazy 12-year-old fangirls drive me nuts. Being insulted for having a friendship with a man, that happens to be famous? Fucking ridiculous. Being insulted for breaking up with my ex-boyfriend, who by the way cheated on me? Because he was a bloody driver and his fans know he wouldn't do stuff like that. Pure shit.

I can only imagine the publicity Pierre and I will receive now. Him being the one that finally screwed the messed up female driver and me being the racer chaser. Pierre's Story wasn't helpful at all, but it's probably been reposted a thousand times, so why make a scene. The sound of him zipping up his trousers snapped me out of my thoughts and I tried to get up without exposing too much of myself, pressing the sheets against my skin. I noticed him looking at me in confusion, but I just shrugged and let the white fabric fall to the floor. He probably saw everything last night, no need for any modesty.

I searched the room for my clothes and spotted my dress in a corner. As I bent down to pick it up, I heard Pierre coming towards me. I quickly turned around to find him grinning at the sight, his hand near butt. "Don't you dare, Gasly", I hissed, grabbed my underwear from under the bed and rushed into the bathroom, slamming the door shut.

I slid my clothes on and looked at myself in the mirror. I didn't look too bad, my make-up just needed a touch up and my hair was in need of a comb. Looking for something to help me look a little more presentable, I scoured the cupboards. I found some MAC lipsticks and a Chanel powder, but that was about it. What I did find was a brush with a few golden strands in it, which I used for my little bird's nest.

Coming back into the bedroom, Pierre was already fully dressed and held out his hand to pass me my phone. "Your phone kept buzzing" I took it and rapidly opened it to find 51 unread messages. Most of them from the middle of the night, but there were some more recent ones.

Where are you Amy?
11:55 pm

Amy? Where the fuck are you?
1:37 am

Amilia Ana Lòpez, it's 4 am??
4:12 am

Mierda, chica! Dónde estás?
10:59 am

en español we use exclamation and
question marks at the end AND the
beginning of every scentence.

But I'm fine Mari

I'm still at the venue, but gonna head
home now, meet u there?
11:01 am

Now that she was dealt with, I had to deal with the other 47 messages I'd received. I opened the chat and scrolled past a lot of hello's, call me's and where are you's.

Where are you Amilia?
4:01 am

I don't even wanna know where you
ended up, love. Just pls call me.
4:11 am

Goddamn, you're driving me insane,
how did this happen again???
4:32 am

You alright?
10:55 am

Hey Lew, I'm fine. Still at the venue,
are you still in Monaco?
11:05 am

I glanced up from my phone as Pierre cleared his throat. "Are you ready to go?" I looked at him, confused. "With you?"

"I drove here with Charles, so I'd need a lift if you'd be so kind, chéri," he explained, and I thought about the fact that I hadn't seen either of the Leclercs anywhere the night before, but I guess I was far too drunk anyway. "Yeah, sure. But keep your head down, I don't need any more photos of this" I pointed my finger at both of us alternately. "cursing through the internet" I was gathering all my belongings, hoping, I wouldn't leave anything behind, as I most likely will not reside in this bedroom ever again.

We left the room and tried finding our way to the staircase and through the great hall on the ground floor. It was around 11 am and some people were already sipping on their drinks at the bar. Or still, I don't know. As we were passing through the room, I started hearing fast steps behind me and some shouts. I wanted to turn around, to have a look at what's happening, but a blonde figure collided with my body and nearly fell to the floor, if I wouldn't have caught her.

"Shit", she exclaimed and looked at me. "Amy?" The girl is Marielle, what a coincidence. She hadn't told me, that she was still here. The man who was pacing behind her turned out to be Lewis. I was utterly confused, but appearently I was not the only one. All four of us were standing in a circle, looking confused and not knowing what to say.

"Well...", Lewis began.

"We just-", Pierre sighed.

I watched Marielle as she shifted nervously from one leg to the other. Her hair was a mess and her lipstick was nowhere in sight. No, correction. It was somewhere in sight. My eyes widened as I saw the trail of lipstick on Lewis' neck.

"You two-", I pointed at them. "You two had sex!" I started to laugh hysterically. Marielle looked at me embarrassed, her voice almost silent. "No, not exactly"

Pierre and I looked at each other even more confused now and I watched as Lewis lowered his eyes to the floor. "Huh?" Pierre hummed.

"Can we not do this right now? My head is pounding and I need a proper nap before I head back to London," Lewis pleaded.

"No no amigo, dime." I nudged him a little and playfully asked him to tell me now. "Amy, you sound like my mother" - "I didn't know your Mom was Spanish, Luiso" - "You know what I meant" - "No, actually I don't. Please elaborate."

"Could you two stop arguing for once?" Marielle growled and Lewis rolled his eyes. "You never allow us to have fun, Mom."

"Your car is waiting for you outside, m'am" The same valet from yesterday handed me my keys and left as quickly as he had appeared. "When did I..." - "I asked him to get the car ready while you two were busy with whatever that was", Pierre explained with a gentle smile and I nodded in appreciation.

I quickly bid my friends goodbye, knowing that we can continue this conversation later on as we will probably all be back at my flat in an hour.

Pierre and I went to get our coats and as we stood in front of the huge main entrance, we tried our best to cover our faces to avoid being recognised. A doorman opened one of the two doors and we stepped into the sunlight, walking towards my Urus. Unfortunately, we hadn't even reached the bottom of the stairs when fans swarmed around us from all sides. Pierre wanted to push me further down, but being the kind person that I am, I stopped instantly.

After numerous autographs, a handful of photos and plenty of questions, we finally managed to get into the car. "So much for keeping our heads down", Pierre groaned in disapproval. "You expect me to just walk past all those fans?" I confronted him and drove off, leaving the astonishing estate behind.

He neatly ignored my attempt to stir things up, instead he sighed, "Take me to Charles', please" - "You expect me to know where Charles lives?" - "Aren't you friends with Arthur?" - "Being friends with Arthur requires knowing his brothers whereabouts?"

"Just drive, I'll put the address into your navi."

𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬! 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐥𝐥, 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐥𝐥, 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐝... 𝐆𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡. 𝐔𝐧𝐢, 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤, 𝐭𝐫𝐲𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐮𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐨𝐩𝐬

𝐀𝐧𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐲𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐬, 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐟𝐮𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨, 𝐈'𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤!! 𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧, 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫, 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐮𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧 ;)

- 𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐚