#taxi in hamilton

[hamiltonmaxitaxi]

Hamilton Maxi Taxi: Your Go-To Service for Taxi in Hamilton

In the bustling city of Hamilton and the wider Waikato region, reliable transportation is key to getting around efficiently and comfortably. Whether you're commuting to work, heading out for an evening in town, or catching a flight, having a trustworthy taxi service on call is essential. Hamilton Maxi Taxi is your premier choice for a taxi in Hamilton, offering a range of services designed to meet all your transportation needs with ease and professionalism.

Who We Are: Hamilton Maxi Taxi At Hamilton Maxi Taxi, we pride ourselves on providing top-notch taxi services that are both reliable and customer-focused. With years of experience in the industry, we have become a trusted name in Hamilton and the Waikato region. Our commitment to excellence, punctuality, and customer satisfaction sets us apart as a leading taxi provider in the area.

Whether you need a quick ride across town, a spacious vehicle for a group outing, or a taxi that can accommodate special needs, taxi cab service near me has you covered. Our fleet of well-maintained vehicles and our team of professional drivers are dedicated to ensuring that your journey is comfortable, safe, and stress-free.

Why Choose Hamilton Maxi Taxi? When it comes to choosing a taxi service in Hamilton, there are several factors to consider—reliability, safety, comfort, and convenience being among the most important. Here’s why Hamilton Maxi Taxi is the best choice for your transportation needs:

Reliability and Punctuality

At Hamilton Maxi Taxi, we understand that time is of the essence. Whether you're catching a flight, attending an important meeting, or simply trying to get home after a long day, you can count on us to be there when you need us. Our drivers are trained to navigate the city efficiently, ensuring that you reach your destination on time. With our reliable service, you can rest easy knowing that your ride will arrive promptly and get you where you need to go without delay. Wide Range of Services

We offer a comprehensive range of services to meet the diverse needs of our customers. Whether you're looking for a Hamilton taxi for a short trip, a Waikato taxi for longer journeys, or a maxi taxi to accommodate a larger group, we have the perfect solution for you. Our services are designed to cater to all types of passengers, from individuals to families and corporate clients. Professional and Friendly Drivers

Our drivers are the backbone of our service, and we take great pride in their professionalism and dedication to customer care. Each driver is carefully selected, fully licensed, and trained to provide the highest level of service. They are knowledgeable about the local area, ensuring that you take the most efficient routes to your destination. In addition to their driving skills, our drivers are known for their friendly and courteous manner, making your ride with Hamilton Maxi Taxi a pleasant experience from start to finish. Safety and Comfort

Your safety is our top priority at Hamilton Maxi Taxi. All our vehicles are regularly inspected and maintained to the highest standards to ensure they are in excellent condition. We adhere to all safety regulations and take every precaution to ensure that your journey is as safe as possible. In addition to safety, we focus on comfort, providing clean, well-equipped vehicles that make your ride enjoyable and relaxing. Convenient Booking Options

We know that convenience is key when it comes to booking a taxi, which is why we offer multiple ways to book your ride. Whether you prefer to call us directly, book online, or use our app, we make it easy for you to arrange your transportation. Our Hamilton taxi number is always available, making it simple for you to reach us whenever you need a ride. Affordable and Transparent Pricing

At Hamilton Maxi Taxi, we believe in offering fair and transparent pricing for all our services. There are no hidden fees or surprises when you ride with us. We provide competitive rates that offer great value for the quality of service you receive. Whether you're travelling a short distance or taking a longer trip, you can trust that our pricing will be clear and reasonable. Our Services: Tailored to Your Needs Hamilton Maxi Taxi offers a variety of services designed to cater to the unique needs of our customers. Whether you're a local resident, a visitor to the area, or a business professional, we have the right transportation solution for you.

Hamilton Taxi

If you’re looking for a reliable taxi in Hamilton, look no further than Hamilton Maxi Taxi. We provide fast, efficient taxi services throughout the city, ensuring that you can get from point A to point B without any hassle. Whether you’re heading to work, meeting friends, or running errands, our Hamilton taxis are available to get you there quickly and safely. Waikato Taxi

For those travelling outside Hamilton or throughout the Waikato region, our Waikato taxi service is the ideal choice. We offer comfortable and convenient transportation to various destinations across the Waikato, making it easy for you to travel within the region. Whether you’re visiting nearby towns, attending events, or exploring the beautiful countryside, Hamilton Maxi Taxi is here to take you wherever you need to go. Maxi Taxi

Travelling with a group or need extra space? Our maxi taxi service is perfect for larger groups, families, or those with additional luggage. Our spacious maxi taxis can accommodate multiple passengers comfortably, making it the ideal choice for airport transfers, group outings, or family trips. Enjoy the convenience of travelling together without the need for multiple vehicles. Taxi Near Me

Need a taxi quickly? With our taxi near me service, you can get a ride in no time. Simply call our Hamilton taxi number or use our app to book a ride, and we’ll be there to pick you up as soon as possible. Whether you’re in the heart of Hamilton or in a nearby suburb, our taxis are always nearby and ready to serve you. Taxi Hamilton

As a trusted provider of taxi services in Hamilton, we are committed to serving the local community with top-quality transportation. Our taxi Hamilton service is designed to be reliable, affordable, and accessible, ensuring that you can get around the city with ease. Whether it’s a short trip or a longer journey, we’re here to make your ride as smooth as possible. Hamilton Taxi Number

We make it easy for you to get in touch with us whenever you need a ride. Our Hamilton taxi number is always available, whether you’re booking in advance or need a taxi right away. Our friendly staff are ready to assist you with your booking and answer any questions you may have. Save our number in your phone for quick access whenever you need reliable transportation. Book Your Ride with Hamilton Maxi Taxi Today At Hamilton Maxi Taxi, we are dedicated to providing the best taxi services in Hamilton and the Waikato region. Our commitment to quality, safety, and customer satisfaction makes us the preferred choice for many residents and visitors alike. Whether you’re looking for a quick ride across town or need transportation for a special event, we are here to meet all your needs.

Booking your ride with Hamilton Maxi Taxi is simple and convenient. You can call our Hamilton taxi number to speak directly with our team, book online through our website, or use our user-friendly app to arrange your transportation. We are available 24/7, ensuring that you have access to reliable taxi services whenever you need them.

Experience the difference with Hamilton Maxi Taxi—your trusted partner for all your transportation needs in Hamilton and beyond. Let us take you where you need to go, safely, comfortably, and on time.

[forzalvr]

grown ass funny men driving in circles is peak motorsport 😭 [not mine!!]

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

“SEVEN YEARS WITH LASHES FOR M. SIMONS,” Brantford Expositor. November 4, 1932. Page 6. ---- Justice Moved Swiftly for Brantford Jewel Thief ---- His Wife Is Under Arrest Here Pending Investigation ---- Justice moved with bewildering speed to-day for Milton Simons, Brantford man, who was captured here yesterday, after robbing Land’s jewelry store at Hamilton of $2500 in jewels and cash. Pleading guilty to two charges of robbery while armed, he was sentenced to-day to seven years in Portsmouth penitentiary on each charge, the terms to run concurrently, and to receive 12 lashes six to be inflicted at the end of three months and six at the end of six months.

On a charge of stealing a taxicab, Simons pleaded not guilty. The charge was changed to one of taking a car without the consent of the owner and Simons was sentenced to six months which will be concurrent with the other terms.

Simons’ appearance in court today marked the end of his brief crime trail. He stalked into the jewelry store early yesterday, held up the clerk and a Montreal salesman, grabbed 32 diamond rings, three watches, and more than $100 in cash, and then left the store after tying up the clerk and salesman. 

He entered the waiting automobile and drove towards Brantford. En-route he forced the taxi-driver to leave the automobile and then continued his wild flight. Outside Brantford, he ran into a cordon of policemen who had been awaiting his appearance and 45 minutes after the robbery was en route back to Hamilton under guard. 

WIFE ARRESTED Mrs. Elsie Simons, wife of Milton (“Nick”) Simons, was arrested here at a local hotel yesterday following the capture of Simons, alleged jewelry robber and holdup man here, earlier in the day.

The woman appeared before Magistrate S A Jones charged with vagrancy and at the request of Chief Stanley was remanded in custody for ten days until the chief satisfies himself about the valuable jewelry found in her possession. 

Mrs. Simons, who gave her address as 212 Bay street, Hamilton, and who is stated to have lived in Chicago before she married Simons, has a fine wardrobe. Her appearance in court this morning bore out the statement of the police that she possessed plenty of very good and fashionable clothes. A white hat with white short fur coat and salmon pink and white dress made her conspicuous in the drab surroundings. Seated next to a local Indian woman arrested as a drunk, she presented a distinct contrast. 

Mrs. Simons was interrogated by the police but appeared guarded in her statements regarding her husband and herself. Local relatives did not know of her presence here. She came to this city early yesterday morning, and police suspect this was part of a plan the pair made the night previous to the robbery. Police thought she might have been here to receive the stolen property. 

Chief Stanley notified provincial officers and headquarters of city police in this country of the possession of the jewelry. Last evening Detectives Waterhouse and Strohn of Toronto came to the city to see if the jewelry was part of some recent hauls made in Toronto. They were not able to identify any of the goods taken from Mrs. Simons. 

While Chief Stanley did not divulge the reason why he thought so he stated that he suspected the jewelry found in the possession of Mrs. Simons was stolen in Kansas City.

In the intervening ten days the police will send out a description of the jewelry and expect to have something definite.

It is also expected here that Mrs. Simons will be re-arrested by the Hamilton police as an accomplice in the robbery with which her husband is charged.

[AL: Simons was 29, married, had a long criminal history with sentences served in the Ohio State Reformatory and Michigan State Reformatory, was apparently trained as an electrician, and had a dagger tattoo on his left arm and shield with two clover leaves on his right. At Kingston Penitentiary, he was convict #2844 and actually ended up working in the electrician’s gang, but his conduct became increasingly irrational and he was considered in early 1934 to be mentally ill. He was transferred to Rockwood Mental Hospital shortly thereafter, and was ‘cured’ because he was back at the penitentiary by July 1936. He was released October 1937.]

[skywaycitylimos-blog]

Why Should People Like To Hire An Airport Taxi Service? The Best Reasons You Cannot Miss

When it comes to planning a trip to Hamilton, the mode of transportation you choose can significantly impact your overall travel experience. comfort, convenience, and style are often at the top of the list for discerning travelers when it comes to traveling between airports to major cities. For those journeying from Hamilton Airport to Ontario, a luxury taxi service provides the perfect solution. It blends all three elements (comfort, convenience, and style) seamlessly.

Skyway City Limo provide a comprehensive transportation solution tailored specifically for business travelers. Combining punctuality, comfort, and professionalism, they transform travel time into a productive and enjoyable experience. With trained chauffeurs and a customer-centric approach, they ensure a stress-free journey. They allow business travelers to focus on their work without worrying about transportation logistics. Riding with Hamilton airport taxi service ensures you get numerous benefits, including comfort, style, and class. Once you've experienced traveling in a luxurious taxi, you'll never want to travel through the airport any other way.  Here are a few benefits of hiring Hamilton Airport taxi service:

Excellent timing

Flying from one location to another seems to be a stressful task for new & avid travelers. The last thing anyone wants after a long journey is to wait for a car or taxi. Public transfers often get overpriced and hard to access as well. They add more hassle to your travel experience! That is why hiring a Hamilton airport taxi lets you enjoy the most relaxing ride. You are assured of traveling to your final destination promptly.

Brilliant comfort and convenience

After spending hours confined in an airplane, your legs will appreciate the luxury of a Hamilton airport taxi. These grand vehicles are intended to offer a royal riding experience. They have ample space for you and your belongings. Enjoy the comfort and elegance as you travel in style. They are equipped with lush seats and the finest amenities.

Excellent first impression

Hiring a Hamilton airport taxi is crucial if you are traveling for business! They will ensure you make a stellar first impression. Nothing compares to the excellence of a premium Hamilton airport taxi service, nothing can match the excellence of a premium Hamilton airport taxi service. If you need the perfect ground transportation solution to fetch an important client from the airport then have faith in Skyway City Limo. They specialize in offering exceptional airport limo service and getting rid of the frustrations of traffic and waiting.

Optimum safety

Safety and security are paramount while traveling after landing at the airport. With a trustworthy taxi service at Hamilton Airport, you can rest assured of a safe journey. The fleet comprises premium models from world-renowned brands. The chauffeurs are professionally trained to provide the highest level of safety as well.

Finding the best option for Hamilton airport transfer can be daunting after a long flight. Skyway City Limo is devoted to providing you with a seamless experience and also at unbeatable prices. Their Hamilton airport taxi service is unparalleled and unmatched and they are committed to providing superior standard service. They will make your journey simple & easy.

[screechingsandwichhologram]

summarizing dialogue so i dont have to do money conversions and economic research >>>

[torontolimocar]

A Beginner’s Guide to Booking Taxi Services in Hamilton

How to Choose the Best Hamilton Taxi!

Taxi services in Hamilton, Ontario, Canada are transportation services provided by licensed taxi companies that operate in the city. These companies offer safe and reliable transportation to residents and visitors of Hamilton, and their services can be booked through phone calls, online bookings, or by hailing a taxi on the street.

Hamilton taxi services are available 24/7, and they are a convenient and affordable option for getting around the city. Passengers can choose from a variety of taxi types, such as sedans, vans, and wheelchair-accessible vehicles, depending on their needs.

When booking a taxi in Hamilton, passengers can expect a licensed and experienced driver who knows the city well and can take them to their destination safely and efficiently. The fare for the ride is based on a metered rate, which takes into account the distance and time of the trip.

Overall, taxi services in Hamilton provide a reliable and convenient option for transportation in the city, whether you need to get to the airport, run errands, or go out for a night on the town.

To book a taxi service in Hamilton, Ontario, Canada, you have a few options:

Call a taxi company directly: You can look up the contact details of a local taxi company, and call their dispatch number to book a taxi. When you call, provide your pickup location, destination, and preferred pickup time.

Book online: Many taxi companies in Hamilton allow you to book a taxi online through their website or mobile app. You can visit the company’s website or download their app, create an account, and book a taxi by providing your pickup and drop-off location and preferred pickup time.

Hail a taxi on the street: If you see a taxi on the street, you can hail it and get in. However, keep in mind that this option may not be as reliable as calling or booking online, especially during peak hours when taxis may be in high demand.

When booking a hamilton taxi, make sure to provide accurate information about your pickup and drop-off locations and be ready to provide your name, phone number, and payment method. Also, be sure to confirm the fare with the taxi driver before starting your ride.

I hope this helps!

[lilasamaaa]

Who says "I love you" first? Part One | F1 grid x Reader

Genre | Angst, Fluff.

Featuring | Alex Albon, Pierre Gasly, Lewis Hamilton, Charles Leclerc, Lando Norris, Esteban Ocon.

Word count | 1.9K

Warnings | Alcohol consumption, mentions of jealousy, car crash, "cheating" (if you squint).

Author's note | Part two will be coming soon and will feature Oscar Piastri, Daniel Ricciardo, George Russell, Carlos Sainz, Yuki Tsunoda and Max Verstappen :)

Alex Albon

He says it first.

For months, you had been preparing a huge project with your team at work. Months of hard work, sleepless nights, doubts, and anxieties. Even though you and Alex didn't live together and your job, along with his repeated travels had put your relationship to the test, he had been nothing but the perfect boyfriend during this time.

You were particularly moved one evening when, leaving your office past midnight, you'd stumbled upon a taxi patiently waiting outside the building, ready to take you home safely. And when you finally got back home, only to find a box from your favorite pizza place in front of your door. Alex was like that : deeply attentive. Caring. Devoted.

You had called your boyfriend on FaceTime, praying that he would already be awake on the other side of the world.

"Hey," had come his voice, still laced with sleep.

"Thank you so much for everything," you'd said, feeling tears welling up in your eyes from fatigue and emotion. "I had the worst day and this... this is so thoughtful. It makes everything better."

"Anything for you," Alex had replied. "I love you."

The words had come out so naturally that you'd almost dropped your phone as Alex yawned, still half asleep, not fully realizing what he'd said until your sudden silence alerted him.

"Oh, my god," he'd said, now fully awake. "That's not how I wanted to tell you."

"Well, I'm glad you did," you'd replied, tearing up again. "I love you too, you know."

Pierre Gasly

You say it first.

You'd joined Pierre in Milan for the weekend after several weeks without seeing each other. After spending nearly twenty-four hours holed up at his place under the covers, showing each other just how much you'd missed one another, the second day had been an opportunity to enjoy the Italian sun.

You had started the day with a fresh orange juice on a terrace facing the Duomo, before exploring the city, its museums, and its shops from top to bottom. The repeated absences of the driver were becoming harder to handle, and you had come to the conclusion, a few days before your departure to Milan, that you had fallen hopelessly in love with the Frenchman. At the end of your day as tourists, Pierre had invited you to dinner in a candlelit restaurant, and you'd almost blurted it all out between the main course and dessert.

Those little words that had been swirling in your head for a week.

In your previous relationships, you had never been the one to take that first step. You'd been too afraid of scaring away your partners. Of being laughed at. But you loved Pierre, you were so sure of it. And you were almost sure that he did, too. So, you had decided that for once, you'd take the lead. Just once.

After your romantic dinner, you were strolling through the city, slowly making your way back to his apartment, when you'd spotted a photo booth by the roadside. Pulling Pierre by the sleeve, you'd both settled inside, laughing, him sitting on the small worn-out stool, you on his lap. The first photo had caught both of you by surprise. But for the second one, you were ready. Just milliseconds before the flash illuminated your faces, you had said it.

"I love you."

Years later, the series of four photos was still on your fridge, and you loved looking at the last one. The one where he'd grabbed your face, pressing a kiss against your lips, whispering, "I love you, too."

Lewis Hamilton

You say it first.

Lewis had invited you to a photoshoot for the first time. What he hadn't specified, though (he would later swear he didn't know) was that the shoot was with his ex. And not just any ex, but the one he had been with just before you, that he hadn't seen since their breakup. The model with endless legs and hair like silk. The same girl you sometimes saw in the streets, printed on five-meter-high billboards, hanging from skyscrapers as if to taunt you.

Sitting on a chair, a coffee kindly offered by the photographer's assistant in hand, you were watching as the girl positioned her legs between your boyfriend's, tilting her head back, placing her hands on his chest. You'd never considered yourself a jealous girl. But there, you were absolutely boiling.

Each pose was worse than the last.

And each direction from the photographer was worse than the last. You weren't sure how many more "Closer, Lewis," or "Look more in love, Gigi" you could endure before you snapped and someone got hurt. Preferably her.

After a particularly close shot, their lips almost touching, you had suddenly risen, returning to the dressing rooms, mouth clenched and eyes shining. Lewis had followed you immediately, closing the dressing room door behind you, holding you close against his chest.

"That was too soon, I'm sorry," he had said, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"It'll always be too soon," you had replied, eyes glistening. "No one's strong enough to watch the person they love play happy couple with their ex". You hadn't realized your words then, but he had. Stroking your hair, he'd said "Good thing I'm in love with you and not her, then," making you fall even harder for him.

Charles Leclerc

He says it first.

If Charles had listened to himself, he would have told you he loved you within a week. He was that sure. Nothing he experienced with you felt familiar : not the way his heart raced when you looked at him through your lashes, nor the way you made him feel hot just by taking off your coat. His previous relationships had made him cautious, so the words slept quietly in his mind and on his tongue.

Even though he still blamed himself for making you worry so much, fate had it that the very first Grand Prix you attended was Monza, in 2020. The crash had been particularly violent, unexpected. The cameras hadn't missed a second of the spectacle unfolding in the paddock, zooming in on your horrified face, so scared of losing the one who had stolen your heart in just a few months. Years later, Charles still couldn't bear to see those images.

The following days had been quiet, Charles being ordered to rest and stay lying down as much as possible. One night, when you'd woken up alone in bed, you'd panicked before finding him in the living room, staring at his phone.

"What are you looking at?" you'd asked, sitting down next to him.

He had turned his phone towards you, showing a series of tweets featuring the sequence of you terrified after the accident.

"I hate knowing that I did that to you," he'd confessed, head low.

"Charles," you'd started, not sure how to put it. "As much as I hated witnessing this, you drive for a living. This probably won't be the only time I'm scared for you. I'm not planning on going anywhere, so... I'll have to get used to it."

The driver had looked at you, eyes filled with love, and the words had come naturally.

"I love you so much."

Lando Norris

He says it first.

Lando and you had... history.

You two had been friends since high school. He was the first boy you ever had a crush on. Not the little crush that makes you blush and stutter, no, the real deal. The kind that makes you fall asleep crying, wondering if that boy will ever look at you as anything other than a good friend. High school had ended without any progression in your relationship, and your paths had diverged. You'd gone to college on the other side of the country, seeing him only occasionally, as he was heavily involved in racing and you almost never went home. Your paths had crossed again at a New Year's Eve party hosted in your hometown by one of your mutual friends.

You were so happy to see him again after more than six months apart that you wouldn't let go of him, following him everywhere, mimicking his every move. You knew you shouldn't have followed Lando into that territory. That you shouldn't have drunk so much. But you had done it. And soon enough, you'd been pressed against a wall, the driver kissing you as if his life depended on it.

You were on cloud nine. Convinced that after years of hiding your feelings for him, Lando had understood, Lando felt the same way, Lando, Lando... But Lando had kissed another girl. Then another. You'd left the house in a hurry as everyone counted down to midnight, trying to put together the pieces of your broken heart on the way home.

You hadn't expected someone to knock on your parents' door at 6 a.m. the next day. Even less to find Lando behind it, hair tousled, dressed like the night before, with dark circles under his eyes. He'd been holding a sorry excuse of a bouquet in his hand. Flowers... From your own garden, you'd noticed, raising an eyebrow. Your mother would be so mad at him. You'd opened your mouth, ready to send him back home, but he'd been faster than you.

"I know you hate me, believe me, I hate myself too. But I have to say it or I'll regret it forever. I love you. And I'm so sorry that it took me kissing other girls to finally notice it. I don't want no one else... I only want you, if you'll have me."

Your friends had told you that you were stupid for forgiving him so easily, but you'd kissed him again. Six years later, lying against him on a tropical beach on your honeymoon, you knew you'd made the right choice that day.

Esteban Ocon

He says it first.

You hadn't been dating for long, a few months at best. One evening, though, he'd surprised you by pulling out the invitation to his cousin's wedding, asking if you'd like to accompany him.

Weddings are kind of sacred in your family. You don't just invite anyone, and you don't introduce just anyone to your entire family unless you're really serious about that person. Deep down, you were thrilled, trying not to freak out, reminding yourself that not everyone sees things the same way, and that for Esteban, this wedding might be an outing just like any other.

He'd come with you to choose a dress, finding the first one "so beautiful on you," the second one "absolutely stunning," the third one "breath-taking." You'd eventually realized that the driver wouldn't be of much help to you, fascinated by everything you'd worn. This alone should have told you everything you needed to know about the man's feelings, but you'd continued to doubt. Was this wedding as important to him as it was to you? Were you ready to meet his family?

The big day had finally come, and you were sure you'd have died of stress if Esteban hadn't held you by the waist the whole time, introducing you to everyone who'd passed by you two. His parents had seemed thrilled by your presence, showering you with compliments, emphasizing that it was the first time Esteban had invited a girl to a family event. It's important for him too, then, you'd thought.

The ceremony had passed, beautiful, and you'd found yourselves on the dance floor, swaying under blue and golden lights, lost in each other's eyes.

"I'm so glad everyone got to see how wonderful you are," he'd said, making your heart race. You thought he was done until he'd added, softly,

"I'm so glad I got to show everyone the woman I love."

[that-sweet-jester]

busted

I am here to post you yet another segment of my superhero au >:DDD

And also to recommend some fic I've been reading as of lately:

A Hero Scorned (is a hero lost) by Lotsalizards

Sometimes you should've just stayed home by Nissified

TommyInnit's Infamous Taxi Service by Roohoo

All on Ao3 and all worth the read <3333

Also why didn't I draw Wilbur's costume with a jabot, that's like the most theather kid drama liking hamilton stan thing he could wear.

[leclercss]

Tainted Love, Part 8 (Charles Leclerc ft Lewis Hamilton)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

Masterlist

plot: in an attempt to fix your marriage, you've reluctantly agreed into being in an open relationship with your husband. so far, it's only been your husband that has taken advantage of your recent arrangement until one night out you meet a man who makes you begin to question your marriage.

pairings: charles leclerc x fem!reader

warnings: (+18) mentions of smut, cheating and some swearing

authors note: this is going to be the second last chapter but my emotions are real.

word count: 4.3k

taglist: @ironmaiden1313, @ru-kru, @buendiabebeta, @flwr-quicksilver, @ravioli19, @julesandro, @hornedravenclaws, @thatobsessedreader @pinkangelavenue, @queenofshinigamis, @notleclerc, @paullinne, @bisexualbith, @tempo-rary-fix, @bbygrlllllll, @teenagedreams-cl, @lunamelona, @leclerc16s, @palomaxaxaxa

Your eyes remained glued on your phone, as they have done for the most part these last three days.

All fixed on the "Read" underneath your message. You're not really sure what else you're expecting really. For him to respond to you after that shit show? You must have been out of your mind if you thought that Charles would ever want to speak to you again. If the roles were reversed, you'd have done the same thing. But he loved you, so surely this was worth talking through?

Here you were again, stuck between delusion and heart break. It's the only placed you'd been since Lewis slammed the taxi door in your face. And in a fucked up way, it's the only place that comforts you because facing the reality of your situation feels so much worse.

Your tragic trip down memory lane is interrupted by Whitney placing your McDonalds on your lap. It's been your forth one since you arrived at her apartment on Sunday evening, when you could no longer stare at the front door anxiously waiting for Lewis to come home.

"Have you heard from Lewis?" Whitney asks as if she's been reading your mind.

"No," your response is practically a grunt.

Whitney bites her bottom lip, hesitating for a moment before she asks her next question.

"Have you heard from Charles?"

"No".

She pauses again.

"Have yo-"

You interrupt her with a loud sigh and Whitney takes the hint to stop asking you questions that are any way related to the shit show of your life right now. Since you had arrived at her apartment four days ago, with a weekend bag and a stream of tears in tow, you'd barely spoken. Well, you'd barely spoken after you finally told Whitney everything. And that meant everything.

She'd poured you a large glass of wine (or two) when you began to explain the last twelve months of your life. From when yours and Lewis' relationship began to change, to your suspicions of Lewis sleeping with other women, to you confronting Lewis about working on your relationship, to Lewis' genius solution to your marriage woes by suggesting an open relationship, to Lewis taking full advantage of that arrange me before you finally had enough with your constant arguments with Lewis.

And then, on that infamous girls night out where you kissed Charles, and, unbeknownst to Whitney, you spent that night with him, then there was the Joris birthday party shenanigans, to Lewis' sudden awakening and the reconciliation of your marriage on the very same night of Joris' party. Then you somehow found yourself juggling both relationships seamlessly all up until your birthday when Charles whisked you a way for the best weekend of your life when you declared that you were falling in love with each other. And finally, a week later, Lewis was treating you to the most extravagant birthday yet until you found yourself at the dinner from hell where your both your marriage and your relationship fell to pieces.

Fuck, did this all really happen within the space of 12 months?

Whitney watched on as you spilled the truth on the chaos that was your life, through the tears and snot that streamed down your face. She didn't say anything, she just took in all of the information while filling up your glass with wine the second it became empty. She wasn't sure how to process all of this. There was just so much information to unpack and while she had some inclination that you weren't telling her certain things about your relationship with Lewis, she could have never imagined that this would be the situation.

And, Charles?

Yes, she knew that you had kissed him that night and yes, she teased you about it every now and again. But being in love with him? Having a full on relationship with him? Let's just say it wasn't on her 2023 bingo card. This was some soap-opera level shit.

But then she thought about it a little more, during your many hours of silence between the two of you in the last few days, that maybe there were some signs when it came to Charles. You'd always tensed up whenever she mentioned him. At first she thought it was the embarrassment from kissing him on that night out, and the fact that you regretted your actions since you were still so invested in your relationship with Lewis.

There was a couple of times when Whitney had suggested that the two of you meet with the guys for a few drinks but you'd always come up with an excuse. Actually, come to think of it, you'd only come up with an excuse when you realised that Charles would be present. Did a drunken kiss from months ago really upset you that much? she'd thought at the time.

But then Whitney thought about it a little bit more. It wasn't just you that had acted weird, it was Charles and Joris too. Charles' cheeks would always flush whenever your name was mentioned. And Joris would always look at Charles for a reaction. That was pretty innocent. Maybe Charles was just a little embarrassed about your kiss and Joris teased him about it too.

But then Whitney would remember the look on Charles' face whenever she'd turn up at the pre-arranged drinks on her own. She'd told the guys that you were at home or out with your husband and Charles just had this bizzare look on his face before spending the rest of the evening looking like a lost puppy and would spend most of the time on his phone. Wait, had he been texting you the whole time?

Despite him being single, she never saw him with other girls. He never seemed the faintest bit interested. And that always surprised Whitney as someone with who looked like Charles did definitely got a lot of attention. She'd seen it first hand the way girls would throw themselves at him. But he'd always shrug them off. He just wasn't interested.

There was that one time when Charles turned up completely out of the blue when the two of you were out with a couple of friends and Joris decided to tag along. Yourself and Charles had said hello and greeted each other with a polite hug but the two of you were just so awkward. For two adults in their mid to late twenties, it was almost comical the way the two of you acted around one another. Like a pair of school kids being forced to be around their secret crush.

Whitney had briefly noticed the lustful looks Charles had given you all evening. It was almost kind of weird the way he'd look at you, hoping to catch your attention, especially when he knew your were married. At one point, herself and Joris had to hold back their laughter when Charles so obviously glared at the random guy who had bought you a drink at the bar. It was all just an innocent crush, right? Come to think of it, the two of you did leave the bar in quick succession that night…

As for Joris, well Whitney had asked him about Charles a few times. Did he have any women on the go? Was he open to dating? But Joris just shrugged it off, said that Charles was a bit of an odd ball when it came to women. There was someone that he was really into but it was a touchy subject so they weren't allowed to bring it up. Turns out it was you that was the touchy subject.

As for spending time with Joris, he more often than not suggested for him to go to Whitney's place when they were hooking up. He'd made up some excuse that the guys were sick of hearing one another having sex and they kind of made a rule to keep sex at the flat strictly to nights of parties or when it was 100% sure that the other guys wouldn't be around. She never thought a group of guys would care about something like that but apparently it was a French thing. Or so Joris had said.

Whitney came to understand very quickly that it was all a cover up for you and Charles to spend time together. She'd called Joris yesterday to ask him what the fuck had been going on. He'd explained everything, or at least everything he knew. And when Whitney asked about how Charles was managing, the silence from Joris' end of the phone told her everything.

Whitney sighed, "He really loves her that much?"

"He does".

She felt sorry for Charles but she also felt sorry for you. Yes, you'd found yourself in this mess. And you had made so many mistakes from what she’d heard. But she firmly believed that none of this would have happened if it wasn't for Lewis and his stupid ego. Whitney felt validated in her dislike for Lewis. Yes, he was hot, rich, successful and apparently was great in bed but his personality was just so ... bland. There was just a surface layer to him, never any substance other than how what he showed on the outside. Behind the tattoos and the ridiculous fashion was an insecure man who only seemed to care about you when your attention was on somebody else.

She thought back to the time that Lewis proposed to you. After the wild sex and love bombing naturally died down and it was time for the two of you to to build a foundation, you'd started to get a bit irritated at the lack of effort from Lewis’s side. Your relationship with Lewis looked like it was running its course and so you had decided to go on a date with some guy just to test the waters, to see if there was a better guy for you out there. But that experiment had ended pretty quickly. As soon as you had started to date anyone else, Lewis was very quickly back in the picture and seemed more invested than ever. Whitney had expressed her concerns to you about his newfound interest but you ignored her, you were blind to whatever Lewis did. And so, Lewis locked in your attention for the long term by proposing just a few months later and that was that.

You had fallen for it and you fell for him even harder. And now, four years later, you had found yourself in the same cycle. This time with more catastrophic consequences. It seemed like your marriage was over, and sadly your relationship with Charles.

"Do you hate me?"

Whitney's head quickly turned in your direction. Your eyes were glued to the TV. The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills had captured your attention and you were shoving a dozen McDonald's fries into your mouth. It's the first time you'd sparked up a conversation since taking refuge on her sofa a couple of days ago.

"What? No, I don't hate you," Whitney sighed. "Why are you asking me that?"

"I don't know," you mumble as you continue to be captivated by the tv screen. "I've been a pretty shitty friend. Lied to you for months and then coming running to you when it all goes tits up".

Whitney felt her stomach sink. "[Y/N], I could never hate you," she began. "Yes, I'm upset that you didn't tell me what was going on. You know me. Yes, I have my opinions and I know you don't always want to hear it but at the very least I would have never wanted you to go through this alone. I hate seeing you like this".

For the first time in a while, your eyes move away from the tv screen. and you're staring at the McDonalds that's in your lap. You're fighting to hold back the tears.

"I know. I should have told you. I was so scared that you'd judge me. I know you've never liked Lewis all that much," you stop to wipe your nose, "And this whole open marriage crap was doomed from the start but I really thought that if I said yes, he would see how much he really loved me and that I was willing to do anything for him”.

You fall silent. The only sound in the room coming from Lisa Rinna throwing a glass a table. That damn dinner in Amsterdam.

Don’t you ever go after my fucking husband.

Whitney isn't sure what to say, so she waits for you to continue.

"I want to hate him for this whole thing, you know. He was the one fucking other people first but we both made a promise that we would never hurt each other. I was always sure he'd be the one to hurt me but I'm the one that hurt him".

Whitney jumps out of her seat to console you and you let yourself sob in her arms. Hearing you speak about your relationship like this made her heart break. Maybe you weren't as blind to Lewis' behaviour as she thought.

"[Y/N], he has to take some of the responsibility in this. He stepped out on you first and he asked you to commit to something that you were uncomfortable with. He used your feelings for him against you," Whitney tells you. Her hand soothing your back. Your sobs become even louder.

"That's why I'm angry at him. He pushed me away and I fell in love with someone else because of it. But why do I feel so guilty?"

Whitney sighs, "Because you still want him to love you, like you always have".

Silence falls again for a few moments.

"[Y/N], do you still love Lewis?"

You nod. And then there’s silence again.

"Can I ask you something?"

You lift your head off her chest and look up at her. Your eyes red, skin all blotchy. You look so innocent and child-like in her arms. You don't answer her but your silence is enough of a yes for Whitney to ask you her next question.

"Who are you more sad about losing? Lewis or Charles?"

-

Not long after you had finished your conversation with Whitney, she had tucked you into her bed for some well needed rest.

Her heart ached for you and she felt guilty. Guilty that she had made her dislike for Lewis so apparent that you were too scared to tell her the true state of your relationship. The only thing she was grateful for was that Lewis hadn’t gotten you pregnant through out your relationship, it was the only way that this situation could be worse than it already was.

She was so angry and frustrated that it had gone so far. An open marriage, who the fuck does this guy think he is?, she had thought to herself. And he gets to act like he's the victim? This man had some serious audacity.

She secretly enjoyed the fact that Lewis felt so threatened by Charles that he made himself look like a right dick at your birthday. She'd have loved to have seen his face when the ball dropped and he realised that Charles, the man you loved, was just a metre or so away from him. Karma was a funny thing.

But the more Whitney got lost in the rabbit hole of finding new ways to find pleasure in Lewis' misery, the more she realised that whatever her feelings were towards Lewis or Charles or this entire series of unfortunate events, she couldn't let your heart break any more. If she couldn’t have prevented all of this mess from happening before, she was going to try and fix some of it for you.

And so, with your conversation from before at the front of her mind, she decided to send out a text.

Probably a bit of a surprise that this message is coming from me but I love [Y/N] more than anybody and I know you probably don’t want to see her right now.

I can’t imagine how angry and hurt you are but she never wanted this to happen. I can see how much she really loves you and I know that you love her too.

You two need to talk. You can’t fix this otherwise and you deserve that chance to fix your relationship.

I haven't seen her this bad in a very long time. Can you please come and talk to her? She's staying at mine.

And it turns out Whitney’s text worked. Not long after she got a response.

Sure, I can come by tonight?

And so he did.

Whitney didn’t miss the sadness in his eyes as she opened the front door. The skin underneath his eyes were dark and it looked like he had spent the last few days crying, almost as much as you had been.

“Thanks for coming, I know it couldn’t have been easy coming here,” Whitney said. Her voice soft, whatever she was feeling, seeing him in person like this made her feel guilty. And she didn't even do anything wrong.

He just grunted in response.

“Come in,” Whitney said, stepping aside to allow him into the flat. “She’s just asleep at the moment but I thought it was important that you guys talk.”

He nods. “You said she’s been in a bad way?”

Whitney nodded sympathetically. “Yeah, it hasn’t been this bad since her dad passed. Today was the first day that she’s properly spoken since she told me what happened when she arrived on Sunday”.

She pauses for a moment.

"She might smell of McDonalds when you see her though. It's all she's been willing to eat," her attempt at making a light-hearted joke doesn't clear the awkwardness in the room.

He’s just staring at the ground, hands shoved into his pockets. He doesn’t really want to be here, but somewhere deep down he believes he owes it to you. If Whitney was reaching out, it was definitely something worth listening to. Even if they didn't have much of a relationship.

“What did she say today?”

Whitney sighs softly, “I think it’s for her to say”.

He nods again.

“Can I see her?”

This time Whitney nods, “Sure. The bedroom is just the door on the right”.

He mumbles a thanks and heads down the short hallway. He takes a moment outside of the bedroom and Whitney watches his movements. He’s nervous as he takes a deep breath before stepping into the bedroom.

You feel the presence of somebody taking a seat on the bed beside you but you’re slow to respond. You assume it’s Whitney coming to check on you and so you just tell yourself to go back to sleep.

The person beside you stays still for a while. You can feel their eyes on you but you try not to let it disturb you. It’s the first time you’ve properly slept in days.

It’s a few minutes later before the person on the bed decides to lay down beside you, their body ever so close to yours.

You let out a groan. “Whitney, I love you but I don’t feel like spooning right now”.

You hear a dry chuckle beside you, like they’re forcing themselves to laugh.

“It’s not Whitney”.

Your eyes immediately open and you turn to face the person that’s in the bed beside you. The room is dark but you don't need to see him to know who it is. You know that voice so well.

“Charles,” you whisper.

You can’t believe that he’s here beside you and so you reach out to touch him to make sure that it’s really him here with you and not just a part of your dream.

He’s real. And he’s here beside you, letting your hand rest on his cheek as you search for his eyes in the darkness.

“What are you doing here?”

“Whitney messaged me. She said that you weren’t in a good place,” Charles responds.

“She messaged you?”

“Yeah, I was pretty surprised as we don't really speak much but she felt like we needed to talk”.

You smile softly. Grateful for your best friend but also grateful that Charles’ hasn’t decided to stomp on your heart. Or so he hasn’t yet.

“I’m surprised I’m here, to be honest. Joris would kill me if he knew I came to see you,” he chuckles but he doesn’t find it funny. He finds it painful actually to think of how much is best friend despises you. It wasn’t all your fault though, not in Charles’ eyes.

“When Joris had booked the Salt Bae restaurant for Saturday, I thought that the bill was going to be the most shocking thing that evening but I’d have paid for 50 of those ridiculous gold steaks if it meant I didn't have to sit through that dinner,” Charles continues. As the level of uncomfortableness rises in the room, your hand falls from his cheek and you find yourself wrapping you arms around your legs for comfort.

You don’t know what to say. Where do you even begin?

Charles fills the silence for you. “Lewis would have been pretty happy to buy 50 of those steaks the way he was splashing this cash that night,” Charles’ voice is laced in annoyance and disgust.

You cringe at the memory of Lewis’ over-the-top behaviour that night. But that’s not what leaves your mouth.

“It feels weird to hear you talking about him,” you whisper, you can’t believe this is the thing that you say out of all the things you could say. It just felt so strange hearing Charles mention Lewis by name.

Charles scoffs, “What? Your husband? I’m just amazed he didn’t end up bending you over the table and fucking you in front of me but he was definitely making a good go of it. I felt sorry for the couple who was at the table with you who had to hear that cringey naked chef story”.

His tone is getting angrier the more he speaks.

“I’m sorry, Charles,” you can barely hear your own voice. You feel like a coward for not saying more but you honestly don't know how to get your words out. You can’t read the expression on Charles’ face because you can’t see him through the darkness. So you just let him do the talking.

“I’m just surprised that you’d be married to someone like that, you know. So obnoxious and so vulgar,” he spits, “acting like he’s got the biggest dick in the room. I wanted to punch his fucking face in".

You've never heard Charles speak like this before, with so much hatred and venom in his voice. It looks like Lewis' antics had gotten under his skin after all. You couldn't blame Charles for feeling this way though, Lewis did everything in his power to emasculate Charles that day.

"I wouldn't have blamed you if you did," you whisper. You reach out for Charles in the dark, you hand resting on his arm. He tenses up a little but he doesn't pull away which reassures you that he can't hate you that much if he's letting you touch him.

"He's not worth it. What kind of a man is he anyway? Cheats on his wife for months and then throws the toys out of his pram when he finds someone who actually loves her for her," he huffs.

But it's those last few words that fill you wish some warmth and gives you the courage to ask Charles the following question, "Do you still love me, Charles?"

You feel him place a hand on top of yours in the dark.

"As much as everyone doesn't want me to, I can't stop loving you, [Y/N]," he responds. His voice is the softest it's been since he came into Whitney's room.

"Do you hate me?" God you've had to ask that question one too many times today.

"I don't hate you, amour. I hate that you married a guy like him. Yeah, he's good looking and rich or whatever but he's an asshole. You deserve so much better than that," he pauses his mini rant and takes a deep breath, "Look, I knew you were married when we first got involved so I've only got myself to blame. But since the night that we met, I haven't spent a day not thinking about you".

It sounds weird but Charles thinks that he can hear you smile in the dark.

"You just called me amour".

You can't keep the smile to yourself and a sense of relief washes over you at the sound of him calling you that special pet name.

"You'll always be my amour, even if you are married to a man with shitty tattoos," Charles grunts but the tension seems to leave his body and he pulls you towards him in dark, somehow pulling you into a hug and your head is resting on his chest.

"I'm so sorry Charles, I never wanted this to happen," you whisper. "You never deserved any of that. I thought I'd have lost you, especially when you hadn't responded".

Charles sighs, "I know. I just needed some time".

His fingers find their way into your hair and begins to lightly stroke you hair, resting his chin on the top of your head.

You just lay in each other's arms, taking in the smell and feeling of each other. You don't want to let you because if you do, you're so afraid that he'll come to his senses and run from you. But he doesn't seem to want to let go of you either, and you remain content in each other's arms.

Eventually, he breaks the silence.

"Have you spoken to him?"

You hesitate for a moment, but decide to tell him the truth, "No. He doesn't want to speak to me. After dinner, I got in the Uber and he didn't get in. And then he never came home. I messaged him when I got here to let him know I'd be here for the forseeable, so he can make sure that Roscoe is taken care of".

Charles hums as his response but he doesn't say much.

"I'm pretty sure he hates me," you're not sure why you've said this, especially to Charles of all people.

"He probably just hates himself," Charles is honest with his response. You look up at him in the dark.

"Really?"

"Maybe he hates you a little. But he I think he hates me the most," Charles chuckles. "But I don't mind though, he's the one that fucked himself. And if he wasn't so selfish, you wouldn't be here with me right you".

And in the dark, you feel Charles warm breath hit your face before his lips find yours. The kiss is gentle and neither of you really know what to do next. The both of you couldn't imagine you being in this place just a mere two hours ago. And so you savour the moment for what it is before the both of you slowly pull away from the kiss.

Charles' breath catches in his throat a little, as if he wants to say something but he doesn't. And so you stay in each others arms a little while longer.

You're not sure how much time has passed, you're pretty sure that the two of you fell into a light sleep at some point. But as you begin to stir in Charles' arms, he finally finds the courage to say what he's been holding in.

"I want to be with you, [Y/N]. But I need more than a half of you," he begins. He waits for some sort of response from you but all you manage is to sit up and look at him.

He lets out a little sigh. You're waiting for him to finish, almost as if you're waiting for him to tell you what to do. To tell you how you can fix this.

"I think we have a good chance at things but my first mistake was thinking that I could be okay with you being married. Even if he wasn’t entirely in the picture, he’s still there. And he won’t let you go without a fight. You know, I thought half of you would be better than all of you. But maybe I need to be more like Lewis and be selfish. And so, if you want us to work," he pauses, making sure that you're still fixated on him, “I need to know that things are over between you and Lewis".

All you can do is gulp as the consequences of your actions begin to sink in.

It was time to make a decision - Lewis or Charles? The longer you waited to make your choice, the more likely you’ll lose the both of them forever.

[flyingcakeee]

I need you guys to see what Pinterest names the little suggested idea boards along with the pictures chosen..

Carlos Sainz: literally not there

Smooth Operator: halfway correct

Lewis Hamilton: woah.. calm down

Taxi driver: I don't trust any of them

White boys: literally just Logan Sargeant

I have no idea what I did to cause this I swear 😭

[poseidons-getting-milk]

One thing that has always bothered me is in The Lighting Thief when the Lotis casino gives Percy, Annabeth, and Grover all debit cards to use for the arcade games (and i think as room keys??) They supposedly each get a card.

Then when they realize what to casino/hotel actually is and they try to get out as fast as they can in a taxi, the driver checks the card’s balance and it literally just shows an infinity symbol.

Those cards EACH have and INFINITE amount of money.

They all saw how much money was on that card, and when they got out of the taxi, THEY TOLD THE DRIVER HE COULD KEEP IT!!!

Now maybe the other two lost their cards before they left the hotel, so that could be why they didn’t have theirs, but why would they just give it to the driver? I mean, Annabeth really didn’t think of how useful that could be?

Sure, maybe it could’ve been used to track them down, but go to a damn ATM!!

Percy could’ve payed off all of Sally’s debts, they could have used to complete this and other quests, they could’ve brought it to camp so future campers had more than the A HUNDRED FREAKING DOLLARS they were given for their quests that usually require traveling across the country for days, THEY COULD HAVE DONE ANYTHING WITH IT!!

I think it maybe said that only Las Vegas drivers would accept casino cards, but i’m sure they could’ve found a way to turn that INFINITE amount of money into cash or something. Even if they didn’t have time for that on their quest they could’ve taken the card with them and converted it later.

Obviously we didn’t get this in the series since it’s Hamilton’s i mean Hermes’ taxi they take.

IM JUST STILL PISSED ABOUT IT TO THIS DAY

[luuuucas]

What famous characters I see F1 drivers playing

Max Verstappen — Rick Deckard (Blade Runner)

Checo Pérez — Wolverine (X-Man)

Daniel Ricciardo —Jake Peralta (Brooklyn 99)

Yuki Tsunoda— Donnie Darko (Donnie Darko)

George Russell— James Bond (007)

Lewis Hamilton— Neo (The Matrix)

Oscar Piastri— Han Solo (Star wars)

Lando Norris— Marty McFly (Back to the future)

Fernando Alonso— Rocky Balboa (Rocky)

Lance Stroll— Ferris Bueller (Ferris Buller’s day off)

Nico Hulkenberg— Elliott Ness (The untouchables)

Kevin Magnussen— Ragnar (Vikings)

Charles Leclerc— Harry Potter (Harry Potter series)

Carlos Sainz— Patrick Bateman (American Psyco), Poe Dameron (Star Wars)

Alex Albon— Ian Malcom (Jurassic Park)

Logan Sargeant— Jessie Pinkman (Breaking Bad), Luke Skywalker (Star wars)

Pierre Gasly— Maximus (Gladiator)

Esteban Ocon— Ricky Blaine (Casablanca)

Zhou Guanyu— Travis Bickle (Taxi Driver)

Valtteri Bottas— Walter White (Breaking Bad)

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"CLAIM SPOTTERS WERE ASSAULTED BY TAXI OWNERS," Hamilton Spectator. July 17, 1933. Page 7. --- Street Railway Co. Lawyers Lodge Complaint ---- Tell of Two Attacks Upon Their Agents ---- No Prosecutions Have Been Started, However ---- The police department and street railway are investigating the alleged attacks over the week-end of jitney drivers on two of the Street Railway company's spotters who are engaged in riding in the cabs and, after paying a ten-cent fare, taking the driver's names. Wilfred Davis, counsel for the Street Railway company, and Reginald Shirley. head of a firm of private detectives whose men have been working for the Street Railway company, were at the police station to inform the authorities of two different drivers attacking their agents after they had asked drivers of alleged cut-rate cabs for their names.

Although Mr. Davis refused to disclose the name of the cab drivers or the street railway agent, he stated that one of the men rode in a cab and, after getting out at Main and Gage avenue and paying a ten- cent fare, he asked the driver for his name. One clause in the taxi by- law requires all drivers to give their names to any one who hires them on demand and it was under this section of the by-law that the operative was acting.

Story Told Police The street railway counsel claimed that as soon as the driver was asked his name he leaped out of the cab and attacked the man, but later requested him to not say anything about the matter and the driver would give him a day's pay. In the meantime, Mr. Davis stated, other taxi-drivers had arrived on the scene and endeavored to enlist witnesses from people who happened to be passing, but they were refused.

The second alleged assault took place at Wentworth and Cannon streets when one of the spotters asked a man who was driving a cab for his name after paying his a fare. The driver got out of the cab and ran around the vehicle, seizing the street railway agent, "roughing him up."

Both incidents have been reported to the police, but no warrants have been issued in the matter as yet.

[skywaycitylimos-blog]

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[agendabymooner]

time to rock and roll || fa14 fic (1)

THE BREAKUP AND MAKEUP DUOLOGY — PART ONE

“when will you learn? i’m the queen and i’ll put you in your place.”

Summary: It was 2007, and Fernando Alonso had to learn the hard way that his ego and pride were getting in the way of the love that he built up with the recently-retired professional wrestler Trish Staedtlander. OR the 2007 Canadian GP left Trish no choice but to put on a brave face and show nothing but indifference. It’s safe to say that Fernando’s pride was immediately humbled by her words and impassive expressions as he begged her to come back.

Content warning: 2007 McLaren driver!Fernando, mentions the spygate scandal, exes-to-lovers trope(ish), use of explicit language, poorly Apple-translated Spanish dialogues, platonic!Lewis Hamilton x OFC, brief Jenson Button x OFC content, mentions brief alcohol consumption, jealous!Fernando, 6300+ words of nonsense.

Note: I cannot believe I have returned to my Nando fucker phase. Enjoy xx

masterlist

“¡Si así es como funciona, entonces me voy! Feliz jodido aniversario para ti.” If this is how it works, then I’m leaving! Happy fucking anniversary to you. 

“Vuelve, Trisha,” Come back, Trisha. Fernando sighed exasperatedly. 

“No, Fernando,” Beatrice Staedtlander was a force to be reckoned with. With enough time and money, she could do whatever with her life— yet she had chosen him. She expressed her feelings towards travelling with him, telling him that out of those 52 weekends of a year, she only had him for less than a half. 

He wasn’t keen on the idea of taking her to every race. The worst part about this was that he decided to turn her down at their second anniversary— three weeks or so after she initially proposed the idea of being around him more often through a call. 

Was it because of the grid girls? She asked herself. Because she was certain that she could take it. She fought against the most attractive women in the wrestling industry before, hell she was declared the poster girl for all of them. She definitely had no problem— knowing that she was the one that the Fernando Alonso would come home to. 

She tried to explain to him that she was fine with any kind of issues that may come as they travel. She could adjust for him. But that wasn’t why he kept rejecting her. 

He could have simply said that he didn't want to be angry at her if he had lost. It was much better to cool off on the flight back to Canada instead of having her witness him in the worst way possible. He could have said all of that, but all he said was that he didn’t want any distraction. 

Was that what he really thought of her? All those times she had been with him and he’d be reading something while she spoke… is she just a distraction? Seventeen weekends to compete and another twenty to prepare for the season and all she was to him was something to fill up his schedule?

She really shouldn’t have flown to England for this. She could have just left him working at the McLaren headquarters for his break until the next race.

“I’m going home,” she told him firmly, her voice shaky as she stood there. Her hand gripped the handle of her suitcase as she spewed out, “17 weekends are what I always miss, Fernando, and twenty of those you’re always working or out— so if I’m just a distraction then I’ll make sure to make the rest of your 15 weeks as peaceful as they can be. I don’t want to see you so please don’t come to my house.”

She slammed the door on him and left as soon as she hailed a cab— it took her three minutes to do all of that. Yet it took Fernando five minutes to catch up with her but she was nowhere close to him. She wasn’t in the lobby nor outside waiting for a taxi. 

She already left.

“I shouldn’t have retired early.” “You had a bad injury last year, you had to retire early.” 

“How do I unlearn Spanish?” “Don’t speak it.” 

“Seriously, I really would just like to stay at home and not be here,” Trish whined, playing with the ice on her empty glass. “I’m not fully miserable, guys. Why am I having some sort of intervention?” 

“Psh,” Amy scoffed. “I just watched you eat a pint of Ben and Jerry’s for an hour straight while you’re watching Dirty Dancing. It’s been exactly what— seven weeks since you broke up with him. You need the intervention, trust me.”

“I think it’s very brave of you to break up with him,” Jay told her with a slight shrug. Of course he would say that— they’ve dated for three months and Jay constantly flirted with her even after she began seeing Fernando. “Look, maybe if you try to attend the Grand Prix tomorrow you’ll have some sort of closure. You’ll see his face and realize that you deserve better than someone who only cares for you if it’s convenient.” 

“I’m not going to fucking go— thank you,” Trish nodded at the server who walked away after giving her the second glass of rum and coke. Sipping on it, she found herself being stared at by her best friends. “I don’t even know why I decided to go to Montreal of all places! I could have gone to Banff for a vacation instead.”

“Because there’s a part of you that wants to support him,” Amy said. “He sent those passes to you in hopes that maybe you’ll watch him race.” 

“Tried telling him that before,” Trish huffed out petulantly, “look where that got me.” 

“He probably didn’t mean it,” Jay tried to reason out, leaving the blonde to glare at him. She had heard that pathetic excuse before, and she wasn’t about to hear that when defending what she thought was the love of her life. Jay caught the look in her face and grimaced, “Okay, poor excuse, sorry— but maybe there are some things that he hadn’t said?” 

“Did he ring you or something?” Beatrice raised a brow. 

Jay shook his head slightly, “No, but you’ve seen the man. Does he look like the type to ditch you because he’s looking for something new or something?” 

“Yes,” Amy and Trish answered, both looking at the only man at the table. 

Amy looked at Trish, “But Trish, come on, how bad could it be? We only have two days to watch— the chances of seeing him may be slim. Plus, we can pull some strings from Stephanie and maybe get some extra privileges that come with the pass?” 

“I do like the sound of that,” Jay nodded. “Talk to the McMahons. Probably find a way to get out of the McLaren area?”

“Yeah, I’ll call Steph or something. If not, I'm sure Shane would be generous enough to get us some other paddock passes,” Amy stood up and reached for her phone, flipping it open to contact their former employer’s daughter. She walked away from their booth. 

Trish sighed and realized that her drink was empty.

“She’s not calling Shane right? Like my ex, son of my boss Shane just so I can see my other ex race?” Trish asked Jay with a ridiculing face, leaving the other Canadian to shrug his shoulders.

She wished she hadn’t gone to Montreal because she could feel his presence regardless of which part of the city he was in. Those weeks of being alone were hellish, if you were to ask them. 

Everyone had taken notice of the model-turned-wrestler-turned-legend when she, alongside her former coworkers, arriving at the Circuit Gilles Villeneuve. 

It was surprising, to say the least; she assumed that with what she was wearing - a low rise jeans with her custom buckled belt and some tight white tees - she wouldn’t have stuck out. She wasn’t sure if it was the buckle that caught everyone’s attention - or maybe it was the cowboy hat that she wore in the colour of McLaren. But everyone saw her and had taken photos left and right. 

Jay and Amy had also signed some things — seeing as the three of them were to become legends of WWE. They’ve gone around the grid and talked to people. Team principals were rather glad to see the three of them, telling the trio that they made a good impression as professional wrestlers during the Attitude Era. 

The three tried to cut the conversations short, not wanting to withhold the staff’s attention to their own racing teams.

Trish dreaded going to the McLaren area, not wanting to see her lover, Fernando, and feeling like she was imposing once more. Like he said, she was just a distraction… so she saw no reason why she should see his team before the qualifying. Her feet were backing off and she was ready to walk away. 

She would have gone had it been for a young Lewis Hamilton who caught a glimpse of the Canadian wrestler. He was quick to reach out to her.

“H- Miss Stratus!” He greeted her, nervousness written all over his face but he smiled nonetheless. “Pleasure to meet you, ma’am. My name is Lewis Hamilton.” 

Trish quickly recognized the name, “Ah yes! It is very nice to meet you, Hamilton. You’re extremely impressive you know? I’ve watched the races from the television and you’ve got a lot of potential. It’s too bad I’ve never seen you race in person ‘til now.” 

“That’s a lot of compliment coming from you,” Lewis chuckled meekly, “and you’re the one to talk. You’ve been an amazing wrestler and character during your active years. Some may think that your championships were nothing but a joke but I think they were rather fitting for your character.” 

“Yeah, well,” she shrugged, “when someone tries to bring you down, it’s just easier for you to either ignore them or eat up the attention.”

“And you chose the latter,” Lewis laughed. 

“And I chose the latter,” Trish nodded. “As much as I’d like to keep talking I think I’m gonna have to cut the conversation short. I'd hate to impose and distract you—“

“Nonsense!” Lewis insisted, “Alonso’s been looking for you since we arrived a few days ago. I think he was worried you weren’t coming this weekend—“

“What?” Trish interfered, disbelief written in her face as she tried to comprehend what was just said. 

Fernando’s looking for her and he’s scared she wouldn’t come.

Her lover had always been confident, some people thought of his personality as something more boastful and egotistical. She always loved that he could get self-assured at times, and that he would often infect her with the same energy until she was at the same level of confidence as him. 

But even his fears could get irrational. 

Sure, the breakup became the talk of the month or whatever (so far there had been ten magazines that had written about it), but not once did he allow any personal problem to get in the way of his racing. Whatever happened in the tracks, he’d make sure to address it, but he would never jeopardize his race just because he had an argument with his parents prior to the competition. 

So his fear of her not being there? Trish was sure that he wouldn’t allow that to get in the way of his world drivers’ championship. 

“Yeah, really,” Lewis nodded in confirmation. “I know he had flown out his mother from Spain too, seeing as this was your country and all. Mrs. Alonso keeps telling me that Fernando’s been keeping you from her so she just decided to come here for you.” 

Okay, maybe there was a reason why he was scared. But they’ve broken up, have they not? It’s been nearly two months, why hadn’t he told Mrs. Alonso about their breakup? Perhaps she found out already, she probably just wanted to see Trish and possibly bitch-slap the Canadian. Maybe.

“Right,” Trish nodded. “I’ll see him around eventually. Maybe you can let her know I’m here? I’ve got to get back to my friends before the qualifying.”

“No problem, Miss Stratus!” Lewis grinned.

“Beatrice,” Trish told him, “call me Beatrice or Trish. Miss Stratus makes it sound like I’m old or something.”

“Alright… Trish,” Lewis chuckled. “I’ll pass the message to her for you. Hope you find your friends before it gets even worse in the paddock.”

“Thank you so much, Lewis,” Trish smiled softly at the man. “Good luck on your qualifying. Try to aim for the pole.” 

“I’ll work hard enough!” Lewis bid his farewell to Trish before returning to the garage. Turning away, Trish kept a small smile on her face before she set off to find Amy and Jay. There was a lot for her to say about what she just found out.

“HOLY SHIT! HAMILTON’S AT POLE!” Jay screamed, his mouth gaping as he turned to look at his friends with widened eyes. The shared flabbergasted look on Amy and Trish’s faces matched with the man as they yelled excitedly, trying not to jump up and down in joy.

“He’s fucking pole tomorrow!” Trish yelled, grin widening even more as she shook Jay’s shoulders.

“…I think you should be more excited for something else, Beatrice,” Amy poked Trish on the side, making the Canadian turn around to face her best friend. Amy pointed at the screen, all of them watching as a checkered flag was displayed next to Fernando’s name and his final qualification time showing up next to the second one. “Nando’s at P2 tomorrow.” 

Trish’s smile faltered for a moment, taking in the information as her chest swelled with pride. Her mouth returned to its curled position. She turned around to celebrate Hamilton’s pole position for a literal second and her man came running to retrieve the second position. Talk about a win. 

Before they could even leave the McLaren’s hospitality they were approached by a media relations member to let them know about being interviewed. It wasn’t as if they could get out of that duty— Martin Brundle would most likely be the one to approach them if they hadn’t been notified and if there was anything Trish had learned it was that you don’t simply walk away from him. 

“Trish, this is the first time I have seen you since last year’s Canadian Grand Prix,” Martin started once he introduced the three. “With what’s happening between you and a certain McLaren driver, or what even happened, how do you feel being in the circuit?” 

“Well, I am quite excited for tomorrow. Seeing McLaren with a pole and a second position made me feel so giddy,” Trish grinned. She wasn’t lying, but she didn’t mention him nor the comment that Martin made about their famous break up.

“Rumour has it that you weren’t planning to go this year,” Martin asked her. 

Amy decided to answer for Trish, “She wasn’t supposed to. She didn’t want to, I mean. And I know that this had been her tradition since she got her what— fifth— sixth Women’s Championship title?” 

“Fifth,” Jay piped up, “if it’s 2005, yeah it’s fifth.” 

“Yeah, so this was something that she had been doing since 2005 and if there’s anything that I knew since working with her was that she doesn’t like to skip out of certain traditions. We had to drag her ass out of Toronto a few days ago because well, we didn’t want to waste the passes given to us by a generous driver,” Amy continued, smirking towards Trish’s direction. The Canadian shot her best friend a look. 

“Quite the generous driver, indeed,” Martin said, “have you three congratulated him by chance?” At least the man wasn’t singling her out now. 

“We have not,” Jay answered, “we were planning to call it an early evening after we speak to their team principal however—“

Meanwhile, next to the trio stood Lewis Hamilton, who was being interviewed as well. He spoke about landing on the pole and how confident he was tomorrow. 

Trish thought she misheard what he said as he continued, “I’ve seen Trish Stratus earlier. Trish told me today that I should get the pole position, and obviously being one of my favourite wrestlers and all— I can’t disappoint her.”

“She’s just right next to you actually,” Lewis’ interviewer pointed, making the cameraman pan his camera towards the wrestler who then turned only to see Lewis and the camera in her direction. 

“Oh Lewis!” Trish exclaimed, interrupting the conversation between Amy, Jay and Martin as she apologized meekly, “Sorry, Martin. I’ll just move aside for a moment to speak to Lewis.” 

Then she walked three steps towards the driver, “Can I give you a hug? Congratulations!” 

Lewis took that friendly offer as he grinned, finally pulling away as he said, “Thank you, thank you! We were actually just talking about you and how you told me to get the pole position.”

“And clearly Lewis fulfilled it,” Trish giggled, clapping him on the back. “It’s going to be really exciting to see you tomorrow. And I’ve heard this is your first pole?” 

“It is, it is,” Lewis nodded eagerly. 

“God, I am so happy for you, Lew!” Trish exclaimed.

“And what do you think about McLaren getting another higher position on the grid tomorrow with Fernando Alonso getting a P2?” The interviewer asked, making the wrestler pause for a moment. Her face remained impassive, not wanting to give the papers more things to write about. 

Her quick thinking, thankfully, led her to respond with, “I have always been supportive of each driver and just like the previous races, I never failed to believe that Fernando Alonso would be able to make it in the top ten. Each race that I have been to— I rarely go now— always has the same result with him being successful one way or another.” It was so nice having a media relations manager in WWE. At least she knew how to respond without losing her shit at people who kept on bringing up her ex.

“Do you think that his success in the races you make your appearance in would have to do something with you?” The woman across from the British and Canadian continued to ask, a smile on her face was rather genuine— if you would ask Trish. It was as if they were asking about a romance that had somehow brightened up the racing and wrestling community’s images. 

Everyone did tell her and Fernando that while their relationship was made public they somehow managed to show genuineness instead of the fake smiles and pretentious display of affection. 

So it never hurt for Trish to reminisce no matter what their situation was now. Trish answered the interviewer and said, “You know… that’s something that isn’t up to me. I know for a fact that Fernando was always made for this sport so me being there wouldn’t change a thing. I could be gone now and he’d still land in P2, you know?”

Amy: Gone down to the bar downstairs. Raikkonen and Button r here. R u coming? 

Beatrice: No, too tired. Enjoy though xx

Her room telephone started ringing by the time she shut her phone close, groaning as she glared at the direction of the phone. There was too much to unpack after arriving from the venue that she scolded herself for staying a little longer at the McLaren garage. 

Somehow she found a reason why Fernando refused to take her to the races. Being told that she was some distraction did hurt— but being left in the dark about what could potentially jeopardize his career was another. IFinding out about the information from Ferrari being passed to McLaren left a distasteful feeling on her mouth. She never wanted to take back her words of praise from earlier until now. 

All the more reason to avoid Fernando right? 

Right. But he was determined to make things right for them. 

When Trish answered the phone she initially thought that it was either Jay or Amy, exclaiming, “What? I texted you alr—“

“Trish, hija!” The voice on the other side of the call silenced the Canadian, feeling too stunned and unable to speak for a moment as the sweet voice continued, “¿Te parece bien que hable español?” Is it okay if I speak Spanish?

Trish swallowed the lump on her throat and stammered, “Sí, por supuesto, señora Alonso.” Yes, of course, Mrs. Alonso.

“Hace tiempo que no sé nada de ti, mi amor. ¿Cómo has estado?” I have not heard from you for a while now, my love. How have you been? God, those words were angelic. For it to come from her lover’s mother was a blessing that was hard to believe. 

Fernando’s mother had always expressed her fondness for the woman. Whenever Trish flew to Spain for holidays— all of which were spent with Fernando— his mother would always make sure that the Canadian had everything she needed. She even taught the younger woman a lot about Spanish culture. Needless to say, Mrs. Alonso enjoyed Trish’s company and vice versa. 

“Ah, ha sido duro, pero estoy trabajando duro para pasar el día.” It’s been rough but I’m working hard to push through the day. Trish felt herself smiling before it fell off and asked, “If you do not mind me asking… How did you find my hotel room number?” 

“Espero que no te importe, pero Nando ha sido muy reservado sobre ti últimamente. No me gusta ser entrometido, pero si significa para mí hablar contigo, entonces encontraré algo de sus cosas que me lleve a ti.” I hope you don’t mind, but Nando has been very secretive about you lately. I don’t like being nosy but if it means for me to speak to you then I’ll find something from his things that’ll get me to you. 

Trish nearly laughed at this. Mrs. Alonso, whenever the couple were miles apart, would take it upon herself to talk in the background and join in at the conversation held between Fernando and Trish. She was rather dedicated to keeping her relationship alive with Trish and the younger woman appreciated that. 

“¿Te parece bien si cenamos esta noche? Solo tú y yo, Fernando no estará allí.” Is it okay if we have dinner tonight? It’s just me and you— Fernando will not be there. Mrs. Alonso’s voice sounded more like a plea than it was a suggestion. “Tell me everything that happened.” 

And who was Trish to say no? After all, she was the Alonso that Trish liked the most— not that she would ever tell Fernando that. There’s got to be at least something to lie to him about. Especially when he’d done it multiple times. 

Their dinner wasn’t tense at all. It was as if they’d forgotten about Fernando for a moment as they chatted away, exchanging their thoughts on the current events and laughing about whatever.

Beatrice wasn’t too keen on telling Mrs. Alonso about the silliest things, but the older woman was a woman of detail. She needed to know how their relationship came to an end so easily. And instead of fighting back on it, Beatrice’s shoulders dropped as she started to tell Mrs. Alonso about what had happened weeks ago. 

“We’ve been together for years,” Beatrice said, dropping her hands to avoid playing with her food. She offered a rueful smile to the older woman. “Me hizo sentir como si fuera una carga.” He made me feel like a burden. 

Mrs. Alonso sighed quietly, unable to speak on behalf of her son. Fernando should be the one who would own up to his bullshit, and the pride that he carried within him hindered almost every good thing ahead of him. One of them being Trish. Mrs. Alonso figured that her son bringing his girlfriend along on a trip to Spain for holidays was a sign of love he could offer. 

But hearing about how he exploded and called her an inconvenience? Fernando couldn’t be more wrong and stupid. Even Mrs. Alonso called him that. 

He wouldn’t take Beatrice back home in Spain if she was just another woman to string along. He wouldn’t have lasted for two years in their relationship if he thought that Beatrice wasn’t the woman he wanted to marry. He hadn’t sat her down for three hours while drinking a bottle of wine, teaching her how to speak in Spanish at an intermediate level, just to toss her aside once he got her body trembling. 

A non-committal person would do things like that. But Fernando was in love with Beatrice. He’d see the grid girls wink and even put their hands on him, but not once did he ever try to get a taste of infidelity. He wasn’t like that. 

It baffled Mrs. Alonso to no end, but at least she expressed her empathy for the younger woman while telling Trish that she’d have a word with her son. 

Fernando was an idiot, and Mrs. Alonso was going to remind him how idiotic he could get. 

It wasn’t Fernando’s weekend this weekend, but it was Lewis Hamilton’s. 

And Trish couldn’t be happier for the young British driver. She spoke to him before his race about keeping his pole position all throughout the race. Then she told him that he’s becoming her favourite driver in the grid (which was true). Lewis Hamilton merely grinned and told her that, “I’ll make you even prouder then, hm?” 

And proud, she was. The moment he got an opportunity to be away from the media people, Trish didn’t take her time to drag Amy and Jay to find the man of the night. The Canadian merely rattled off at how exciting the race was for them as they were rooting for Hamilton. Lewis exchanged words and said something like, “I was nervous! I honestly thought I was going to fuck up at some point but no. I didn’t want you to see me race for the first time and watch me be shit at it.” 

Their conversation was cut short when he was pulled away by his press officer. Lewis had to beg his press officer to pause for a moment before giving the three a heads up about a party to celebrate his win. Trish hadn’t even realized what she agreed on, waving him off and nodding as if to tell him that he needed to go. He took this as a yes to the invitation. So when she received a text from him (when he took her number) about the details of the party, she only turned to her friends and said, “I hope you’ve got some nice clothes.”

Being invited to a party wasn’t on their agenda. She thought of staying for two or more days in Montreal to visit the basilica and cathedral church— and maybe she’d check out a farmers market and see if they’ve got a stall of local distilleries. So to be a guest of this race weekend’s winner? She was more popular than some of them yet she was worried about how atrocious she looked. 

She really lucked out when she managed to pull a going out top from her suitcase. A halter neck handkerchief top was what her eyes had settled on. Blue sequins were shining as she continued to hold it under her room’s light. She didn’t waste any time and prepared to go out tonight with her friends— and her new one, Lewis. 

As soon as she arrived with the two, her eyes scanned the place. The dance floor wasn’t empty, but it wasn’t crowded either. She saw Lewis by the dance floor and had chatted with him for a moment before she waved at him, telling him to enjoy his night. She immediately went straight to the bar and ordered a martini. 

Her eyes couldn’t help but wander, watching as bodies sucked in the air of freedom and happiness on the dance floor. She could see nothing but enjoyment, one that she craved the most after all those weeks of crying over some man. 

Her gaze shifted to a rather expensive space inside the club. She could see a VIP booth full of familiar faces— those that she saw while she walked around the paddock. If everyone were here, as Lewis had told her, then that meant…

“My, my,” she turned away from the VIP table back to the direction of the entrance, finding herself face to face with Jenson Button. He leaned against the bar counter and offered her a smirk. “Aren’t you a beautiful sight to see.” 

Thanking the bartender, she sipped on her martini with a scoff and asked, “Did that ever work on the girls you wanted to bed?” 

He chuckled heartily, shaking his head as he sipped on his drink — rum and coke. “No,” he teased, “it didn’t work on you, clearly.” 

Her face flushed before she turned away for a moment, hearing him laugh at the embarrassment that she felt. 

Regaining her composure, Beatrice looked back at Jenson. 

She knew that he was joking, but she had heard a lot about the grid singles; they were all trying to gain her attention when she attended the Grand Prix two years ago. Even now, there were still some drivers that were attracted to her. Jenson Button had an underlying problem and it was that his joke was half serious. 

She cleared her throat and pointed at the glass in his hand, “Fifth drink?” 

Jenson shook his head, “First.” 

“I don’t blame you,” raising her martini, she responded with a nod before tipping the drink over her open mouth. The burning sensation down her throat left her hissing quietly, making her companion chuckle in amusement. “It’s nice to know you get off at the sight of a woman in pain.”

His chuckle turned into a snicker as his shoulders shook. He then continued to joke along with her, “Not your thing? We can always compromise.” 

She bursted out of laughter, the burning feeling long gone as she exchanged words with him at the bar. 

What she hadn’t seen, though, was a quiet Fernando. He was sat at the end of the booth, the dimly lit area hiding the deadly stare that he held while Beatrice and Jenson laughed at whatever the fuck they were talking about. 

And as if God was laughing at him, the speakers were playing a remix of Beyoncé’s Irreplaceable. The song mocked Fernando’s vulnerable state.

“I can have another you in a minute, matter of fact he’ll be here in a minute.” 

He didn’t know how long he kept his gaze on the same place, or how many drinks Trish had while he zoned out. He shook himself out of his thoughts when Nico Rosberg called him, asking if he’d heard what the German just said. He only nodded but somehow he ended up being roped into a short conversation. He lost sight of her.

“Baby I don’t give a damn, I know your man’s nowhere in sight.”

Kimi Raikkonen, who had downed four shots of tequila throughout the night, decided that it was the right time to speak. He wolf-whistled as he peered over Fernando’s shoulders, his eyes squinting as he watched the dance floor. “Look at that. Jenson lied about being shit at dancing.” 

“And your eyes don’t tell a lie.” 

Fernando’s head snapped at the direction where Kimi pointed and his eyes narrowed at the sight. It wasn’t a pleasant sight for him. 

Because she was his woman. Not anyone else’s. Not Jenson’s. 

But with their dire situation, Fernando couldn’t call her his woman. She was single. So he painfully watched Beatrice’s face inching towards Jenson’s. 

The BAR-Honda driver’s hands were touching her hips as if he was holding a steering wheel. She smiled at him as if she liked it; Fernando knew she loved how his bigger hands gently rested on her waist whenever he’d sneak up behind her as she made their cups of coffee. Trish didn’t like how Jenson held her. Fernando just knew. 

“I know you wanna come with me tonight.”

Right. That was it. 

Fernando cleared his throat and stood, wordlessly walking away from the booth as he marched his way towards the two. His hand dragged her away from the British man, his face seething while Trish protested. She could’ve just pulled away because of how little force he had on his hold. 

Instead she just followed along as they ended up in a quieter area of the club. A rarity for such a loud venue.

“I can’t believe you,” Beatrice, rather than causing a drama, merely whispered the first four words that she offered him since she walked out with a “happy fucking anniversary.” 

“Trisha—“ he tried to reason out, but he was quietened by her glare. 

“Everything’s falling apart,” she told him calmly, “everything’s falling apart but you refuse to take accountability for being a part of it.”

He remembered the controversy surrounding McLaren and Ferrari. And how he was somewhat a part of it. 

Earlier today, he hadn’t even offered Lewis a congratulations on his first win. He bitterly walked off, frustrated at Lewis’ win and his P9 result. P-fucking-9. He’s been a two time world champion. Now he landed in P9? He was upset. It was even worse when he saw some televised interviews of Lewis and Trish being a little bit friendly as she showered the younger driver with support. Fernando was her favourite driver. Now it’s Lewis. 

Then he remembered how he got into a huge argument with her, practically lying about being a distraction to him just to save face. He hated how his pride got in the way of the things he needed, blaming others seemed to be a better option than accepting defeat. 

Beatrice continued on, “I gave you two years. I gave you half a year, Fernando. Why haven’t you backed out at the beginning if you thought of me that way?”

“I,” he paused to regain his composure, making sure that he was sober enough to speak. “I didn’t mean that.” 

“You were quite passionate when you were screaming abuse at me,” Beatrice muttered sarcastically. 

“I don’t, I really don’t— you have to believe me, mi corazon,” as of this point, he no longer had the prideful attitude. He didn’t care if he didn’t. He wasn’t about to lose her for good. “Everything’s falling apart and I wasn’t sure how to get myself out of it.”

“I could’ve done something,” Trish told him, “I could’ve been there to comfort you, to provide input— and I know jackshit about whatever’s happening. You didn’t tell me anything. How am I supposed to believe you after all of that?

“I can’t be the only one responsible here,” she continued with the pain that felt permanent. “You— ugh.” 

She angrily wiped her tears away, a slight smudge of her mascara showing her exasperation as she asked, “These papers— those people… when they ask you about me— did you ever try giving them an answer?” 

“Did you even tell them how much I fucking meant to you? Or did you just let it all show in front of the cameras because I’m not worth a word to anyone? Did you even bother to look and wonder how the fuck I was doing? After all of that fiasco last year— you weren’t even there!” 

“And that was my mistake, Trisha!” He yelled in the same tone as her. Were they ever glad that nobody could hear them with all of the bass boosting inside the club.

Her lips trembled, unable to contain her sadness. She wasn’t even upset at the way he yelled. She was just sad it turned out like this. 

He sighed, slumping down against the wall as he leaned his head back for a moment. He couldn’t talk to her if he couldn’t contain his frustration. But then again, if he continued to focus more on himself and keeping his composure— she’d walk away again because of the lack of words he had given her. 

His hand reached on her wrist, squeezing it once, “Just stay. Don’t leave, mi corazon.” 

“I’m not leaving,” she spoke quietly, slightly tugging her wrist away from his hold. Did he really think she’d leave? She only left months ago because she knew damn well that he’d much rather be alone… and that he didn’t want her there. “Only did that to make things easier for the two of us. I want to talk- and so do you, so I’m not wasting my time on leaving.”

Fernando Alonso never felt the need to explain himself any further to anyone, he could admit. He didn’t give that much shit what anyone would think, thanks to his ego. But he had never felt the need to explain himself this desperately before. He knew too well that the moment he watches Beatrice Staedtlander slip away from him would be the moment when everything ends for him. 

“Ojalá pudiera volver atrás en el tiempo para poder contarte todo. Sé que he herido a mucha gente debido a mis acciones y he hecho tanto por ti, ojalá no dejara que mi orgullo sacara lo mejor de mí. Mamá tiene razón. Soy estúpido porque te he deje ir tan fácilmente en lugar de tratar de mejorar las cosas,” I wish I can turn back the time so I can tell you everything. I know I’ve wounded a lot of people because of my doings and I’ve done so much to you, I wish I didn’t let my pride get the best of me. Mom is right. I am stupid because I’ve let you go so easily instead of trying to make things better.

His mind was set on panic mode and clearly the rambling of Spanish words showed it. His eyes, ones that were often playful or stoic, softened as he kneeled in front of her, clasping both of her hands as he said, “Please. Let me back in your heart, Trisha. Let me learn.” 

And she couldn’t even fathom the thought of refusing him. Because those two years of relationship didn’t build up to nothing. She hadn’t learned intermediate Spanish in his childhood home for nothing. She hadn’t stayed up late to receive his call for nothing. She wouldn’t have done anything as remotely outrageous as putting his driver number in her tiny bikini for a magazine cover if it hadn’t been for the love and dedication she had for him. 

“You’ve always been in my heart, Nando,” she murmured, peering down at him as she held his face against her smaller hands. Pressing down a kiss on his lips, she then said, “But god if you fucked this up, then maybe we really aren’t meant for each other.”

Fernando stood from where he kneeled, his lips capturing hers in a heated yet gentle kiss as his hand sat on her hip. He couldn’t even seem to answer, but it wasn’t as if he'd ever refuse her. She was someone he’d never turn down; not when he knew that she was it for him.

But this wasn’t the first time they’ve broken up. And this definitely won’t be the last time Fernando Alonso would find himself making the biggest mistake of his life. Thank god, Beatrice Staedtlander was there to remind him that his pride would only hinder his chances of making things right. 

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