crashing quietly | c.l.

Cara's POV

The music was loud, the rooftop crowded, and the drinks way too pretty for how strong they were.

Cara stood slightly off to the side, letting Lando do his thing on the dance floor (which apparently involved interpretive flailing) while Pierre had already disappeared with a blonde in red heels and Carlos was holding court in the corner with a whisky and an unreadable smirk.

She clutched a glass of something sparkling, staring out at the city lights. Monaco glittered below like someone had scattered gold dust across the water. The air was warm. The bass from inside made the floor vibrate under her boots.

It was too much.
And also... weirdly fine.

She wasn't used to this.
Being included.
Being known.

Not by them.

She turned to go find a quieter spot when someone bumped into her lightly.

"Shit—sorry," a voice said, warm and familiar.

Cara blinked.

Carmen Montero Mundt.

"Cara?" Carmen's eyes lit up like a switch flipped. "No way."

Cara stared. "You're kidding me."

"You two know each other?" said a guy behind her—tall, sharp suit, way too expensive-smelling cologne.

Carmen laughed. "We studied together for like... two semesters in Florence."

"Oh my god," Cara muttered, "you're still dating an F1 driver."

"Guilty," Carmen said, hooking an arm through hers like they hadn't missed a beat.

George Russell—the George Russell—smiled politely. "So this is the infamous Cara."

"I hate that sentence."

"It's deserved," Carmen grinned. "He's heard stories."

"I'm starting to realize everyone has," Cara muttered.

"Wait," another voice broke in, bright and cheerful, "is this the girl with the bar?"

Cara turned—Daniel Ricciardo was standing there, holding two drinks, grinning like she was the plot twist he'd been waiting for.

Oscar Piastri hovered behind him, looking vaguely overwhelmed.

"Charles told me you're funny," Daniel said, handing her a drink without asking.

Cara raised an eyebrow. "He also tell you I'm mean?"

"Oh, absolutely."

"Good."

Lewis Hamilton passed behind them mid-convo, sunglasses still on even at night. "She's got the energy. I respect it."

Cara looked around, dazed.

She was standing in the middle of the coolest group of strangers she'd never expected to meet, wearing eyeliner she almost didn't bother putting on, drinking a very fancy cocktail she didn't ask for.

And Charles?

Charles was across the rooftop, watching her again.

Not possessive. Not jealous.
Just quietly taking her in.

Like he was still learning how to look at her.
And still didn't quite believe she was real.

She held his gaze for a second.

Then turned back to Carmen. "Okay. Catch me up. How the hell is this my life now?"

Carmen laughed and started talking.

And Cara?
She let herself stay.

Just for the night.

___

carmen i love her!!!
dannyyyyy ricccc

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