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Summary
“It’s fucking annoying, this alliance! It doesn’t feel fair! None of it feels fair! But it doesn’t even matter, does it, because we’re not even dating, we’re not in love, we’re just fucking casual!”
Lewis sighs.
Oh, how she hates recognising the same old patterns in every couple competing against each other. It’s like it’s the same old story repeating itself over and over again.
“So were me and Lew, back then, and now we-”
“I don’t care! Charles isn’t Lewis fucking Hamilton and I’m not Nico Rosberg, we’re not like you! We’re just not!"
or:
the endless cycle of being girls in love competing in a sport that's designed for rivalries rather than love.
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