Ihaven’t directly spoken to Mr. Donatello since Monaco. It’s a weird situation. Most times when I’m uncomfortable, I take those situations and use them to my advantage. But this is different.
I kissed him. And now I’ve avoided him at all costs, but he also hasn’t made any effort to see me either. Which, isn’t something I can complain about. I only see him when necessary, like at briefings or occasionally at PR appearances.
But this is about to be one of the first times that I’m going to have to speak to him in weeks. We’ve already gone to Azerbaijan as well as Canada. Now we’re at Silverstone, one of my favorite races of the season. England loves Elektra, and now we have to go around London, which is an hour and thirty-eight minutes from the grid.
Since the three of us are the face of the brand, they’re making us go on a sightseeing tour around London for the YouTube channel.
Yes. All three of us. Normally, the YouTube channel is just a compilation of me and Xavier tasting weird food and guessing words from each other’s languages. That video wasn’t that hard because me and Xavier’s first language are similar in a way. Nonetheless, apparently, it’s entertaining for fans to watch. But now they want Mr. Donatello to be a part of this PR campaign since everyone loves him so much.
Mostly female fans. I don’t blame them.
But this day is about to be the bane of my existence. I’m currently on a train with Xavier at my side. Mr. Donatello is on his way in his private car. We have about twenty minutes left of our train ride, and it hasn’t been that eventful.
I’ve been listening to my melancholy music playlist, which consists mostly of Taylor Swift, James Arthur, and Tom Odell, while looking out the window. The English landscape is beautiful, and I’ve heard it’s even prettier from England to Scotland. I’ve always wanted to go to Scotland, especially after seeing some pictures on Pinterest, but it’s just never happened.
“What are you thinking about, rookie?” Xavier says out of the blue.
“Nothing, just thinking about what it would be like to take a train from England to Scotland. They say it’s incredible, although the weather is shit apparently.”
“I’ve never been, but I’ve heard the same thing. I know a few people from Scotland, and quite frankly, I don’t understand a thing they say.”
“Their accents are pretty thick,” I agree.
“It’s hard for me to even understand a British person with a formal accent, but if you ever go to Newcastle... good luck.” I laugh at his comment.
“You’re just a ray of sunshine, aren’t you?” I tell him.
“Most of the time, I guess. People think that’s just because I have a bright personality that I’m not driven or that I always go with the flow. It has its perks. I mean, I try to make the most out of any situation I’m in.”
I smile at him. Xavier is one of the best people I know. I can see the appeal from the public.
“Just because you make people smile doesn’t mean you have to always uphold that image. You know that right?”
“I do.” He nods somberly. This man has problems, doesn’t he? I just want to hug the shit out of him.
“At least I’m not always grumpy like Mr. Donatello, it’s hard to make a man like that crack.” He grins.
I groan. “Don’t even get me started on him.” He chuckles.
“I still don’t get why you hate each other so much. I mean, he may not be the most approachable person, but you aren’t either, Ale.”
“I know that, but I have no choice. At least, I still have fun. He doesn’t. I swear he’s a robot whose life purpose is to be a buzzkill.”
“He’s just serious about his job, that’s normal. I’m extremely serious about what I do for a living,” Xavier says.
“The difference between you and him is that you always smile, and that man doesn’t ever crack. He doesn’t even say thank you half of the time.”
“I’ve noticed that, but like I said before, he probably has a lot of demons.”
“Yeah, I guess. Also, why do you always bring up Mr. Donatello every time I talk to you?” Xavier is a very nosy person. I love it because when there’s gossip, he knows it all. But in this situation, I’m praying he doesn’t know anything. This boy has spidey senses. He probably even has his Spiderman suit in his backpack ready to go.
“Because I know you’re both going to fall in love and live happily ever after, that much is obvious.”
“He hates me, that much is obvious,” I say. He shakes his head like I’m stupid.
“He may be distant, but have you realized what he does when you’re around? When we were in Miami, he paid over a thousand dollars for a room just because you were sad when the receptionist said we couldn’t go in. We both know he hates Versace for some reason, probably because it ruins the Italian reputation,” he gasps for dramatic effect at the end of his sentence.
“That was one time.”