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vettelsvee · 8 days ago

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GOODBYES ARE BITTERSWEET

CHAPTER 2: Happy birthday, mama! 🏎️ CHAPTER SUMMARY: Diana finds out, on her birthday, that she went viral on the internet. Also, that's she's offered a reunion with Capital Records to sign a deal to record an album. However, what matters the most to her is that, maybe, she could reunite with Seb again... and might have to tell him about Emily. ⤷📚 SERIES SUMMARY: Diana Wagner's plans didn't include her finding out she was pregnant with her long time boyfriend, three-time Formula 1 world champion, Sebastian Vettel. Neither was breaking up with him in 2013... or having to face him again 5 years later when she became viral after posting a song dedicated to him. And, of course, having his daughter he knows nothing about. ‼️ WARNINGS: Curse words, angst.

SERIES MASTERLIST ✰ WATTPAD

2018 April 27th Heppenheim, Germany

If someone had told Diana a few years ago that her thirtieth birthday would be like any other day, she wouldn't have believed them.

As every morning, the German had woken up, although that day it wasn't the light entering through the window what woke her. The voices of Emily and her parents singing "Happy Birthday" in unison were the reason for the abrupt awakening. She forced myself to hold back tears when she saw my daughter approaching her with the help of Rosalie, her mother, with a cake in her little hands. Bernhard, her father, was taking the utmost care to ensure the lit candle didn't go out before Diana blew it out, and she noticed their pitiful glances falling on her.

Di understood. Since she became a mother, she knew what it was like to suffer for a child.

"Happy birthday, mama!"

After sitting up in bed, the blond took her daughter in her arms and sat her between her legs. She quickly wiped away the tears and, after clapping a few more times with her, suggested her to blow out the yellow candle, Di's favorite color, together.

Wagner's only wish for that year, as it had been for the previous four, was to finally be able to talk to Seb and explain him the real reason why she left him in Barcelona almost 5 years ago.

With that thought firmly in mind, Diana then said goodbye to her parents, who headed to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. She quickly got out of bed, took the clothes she had chosen the night before for Emily and herself, and dressed the little one while she told her the sugar-coated version of how she met her father and how happy they were, as she always did almost every time since Emily loved that story. Shortly after she was already dressed, both mother and daughter headed to the kitchen, where two bowls of cereal were already set on the counter.

"Mama, what did you wish for?"

The little one's question took Di by surprise. If there was something that characterized her and made the woman think of her father, it was her great curiosity. Not to mention her clearly defined blonde curls and her entire face, which was almost a copy of Seb's.

Denying that she was his daughter was impossible, and that's how Heike found out she was a grandmother.

"It's a secret, mäuschen ," the blonde replied, starting to cough immediately, trying not to choke on the spoonful of cereal she had already put in her mouth. "I can't tell you, or it won't come true."

"But is it something nice?" she insisted.

"Well, I suppose..."

She noticed that her mother was watching her with concern while she dried the freshly washed dishes.

"Are you sure you don't want me to take Emily to Hanna's house?" Rosalie asked, interrupting Emily's insisting questions. "I know you have to clean the bar thoroughly and it takes you quite some time."

"No, don't worry," she assured her. "I want to take a walk with Emily and buy something for Heike and Norbert. Emily wants to see them today," she explained.

"Norbert told me the other day that we could go feed the baby ducks at the lake!"

Her former in-laws knew that Emily was their granddaughter, that she was Sebastian's daughter, but Emily didn't know they were her paternal grandparents, and for now, Di preferred it to stay that way.

She couldn't deny that it hurt her, but she also knew things could be much worse if the couple hadn't been so understanding. If Heike had believed that Diana really cheated on her son when they both met two months after she had broken all ties with him and his family...

"I also want to buy them something. You know, it's what I've always done," her mother nodded with a slight smile, perfectly understanding what she meant.

"Have you thought of anything specific, honey?"

"I know Heike went to the market the other day and saw a pot of tulips that caught her attention," the flower Seb used to give Wagner whenever he had the chance. "I hope there are still some left."

"I'm sure there will be. You'll see how you brighten their day."

I'm sure , she thought to herself as she finished breakfast. Once Diana was done and made sure she tidied up and had everything she needed, Emily and her said goodbye to her parents with the promise of returning in the evening to have dinner together, although the young woman knew she would end up doing overtime at work.

The little one's blonde hair, completely loose, was tangled by the wind. Her boots were covered in mud because all she did was jump in puddles without letting go of her right hand from her mother, and her left from the handle of the Peppa Pig backpack she carried on her shoulders.

"Mommy, why do I have to stay with Aunt Hanna today? It's your birthday..."

"I have to work, mäuschen ," Di said as calmly as Ishecould, trying not to succumb to her gaze. "We have to help granny and pops buy food, pay the rent..."

"But granny and pops are your parents! They have to take care of you like you take care of me," she interrupted her.

Diana continued chatting cheerfully during the short walk from her house to the flower shop. While the clerk attended her, she saw that Emily couldn't stop pointing at all the flowers and giving them made-up names, which made her laugh.

A few minutes later, she had already paid and arrived at her best friend's house, who was already waiting for them at her door, arms crossed until she opened them as Emily ran towards her.

"How is my favorite person in the world doing today?"

"I'm very good because today is mommy's birthday today, aunt Hanna!" she replied, burying herself in her arms. "Mommy said we can go see Heike and Norbert!"

"I bought them yellow tulips."

Diana raised the bag with the pot and shrugged as Hanna gave her a disapproving look.

Wagner knew perfectly well that Prater was thinking the same as her, and she couldn't agree more. But how was she supposed to tell Sebastian that he had a four-year-old daughter out of nowhere, especially after not seeing or talking for quite a long time?

She tried her best to hold back the tears forming in her eyes when she heard her friend telling Emily that cartoons were on TV and that she should go watch them because she needed to talk to her mum. Fortunately, she didn't object.

"I'm not going to tell you what you should do because we've been like this for almost five years and you're old enough to make your own decisions, but..."

"I want to tell him, Hanna," Di blurted out, finally revealing what had been on her mind so many times. "I don't know when or how, but I'm going to tell Seb that she's his daughter."

"I was going to ask if you were okay, but I clearly see you're not."

Hanna's face was completely serious, and Diana swore that if today wasn't her birthday and she wasn't more sensitive than usual, she would have given her one of the biggest scoldings of her life.

"You know today is a difficult day for me," Wagner confessed what her friend already knew. She then handed her the bag with the pot she had bought for Heike, and Hanna hesitated whether to take it or not. "Would you mind taking this to Heike's house? Emily is eager to see her, and I... I can't go. Not today."

"Diana..."

Still holding the pot tightly to her chest and her compassionate eyes piercing Di, she noticed her hesitation, finally speaking after a few seconds that felt like an eternity.

"Have you seen how the video is coming along?"

Her heart raced just at the thought of the video she uploaded to YouTube yesterday night, singing Red. Di hadn't checked its performance, and it wasn't her intention. Like every birthday, she had turned off my mobile phone and ensured the next time she turned it on it would be with Hanna being present so she could delete the email her ex-boyfriend sent her annually at midnight just because it was my birthday.

"I haven't seen it, and I don't plan to," she answered quickly, turning away. Prater's hand caught her wrist swiftly, forcing her to turn around. "Come on, Hanna, I have to go to work."

"I want to talk about this, Diana. You can't act like nothing happened. You can't keep avoiding it."

"I don't want to know anything about that, Hanna," she answered aggressively, referring to any birthday wishes from the German. "I don't want to read things I shouldn't. Besides, considering he has free practice today, do you really think he wished me a happy birthday?"

"You should read it, Diana. I know things between you and Seb aren't what they used to be, but still..."

"No, Hanna, I don't want to read it today, tomorrow, or ever."

With those words, she turned away without even saying goodbye and started walking towards the bar where she worked, for once in her life, with determination and with her head held high.

As Di walked away, her friend's voice grew louder, insisting on what she had already made clear she didn't want:

"Diana, you should read Seb's fucking message! Damn it, it could be important!"

She stopped for a moment, feeling a lump in her throat as Hanna's unusual yelling and cursing echoed in her ears.

Wagner turned once again, now facing her but much less determined and, to be honest, a bit scared, though that didn't mean she would back down or change the opinion she constantly changed out of fear of facing the situation, and wanting to change it.

"I don't want to talk about Seb, Hanna! Just do me a favor and take the pot to Heike, please!" She yelled, feeling the anger taking over her.

"Diana, really, I understand you're confused and want to tell Seb. Maybe today is a good opportunity to get in touch again and..."

"Damn it, Hanna, I already told you I don't want to talk about this!"

Her shouts were out of control. Her voice trembled, so did the rest of her body. She hated talking about Seb and not knowing how to handle the situation, but she hated even more when Emily saw her like that, and felt guilty for everything.

Now, with tears in her eyes, Diana's daughter's little head peeked timidly through the front door, unable to control herself as she was.

Once again, Diana had failed her as she had promised she wouldn't.

"Hanna..." she said to the blonde, now calmer. She pointed to the child with her head and turned to look at her subtly. "I don't want her to think I don't love her or that all the problems are her fault, so please, don't mention Seb when we're together and she's around. I don't want to feel like an even worse mother than I already do most days."

"Understood, no problem. I won't bring him up in front of the little one."

Di prayed it would be that way, not just on the way to the bar, which wasn't far from Hanna's house, but also once she was inside it and started preparing everything. While sweeping and mopping, the blonde tried to avoid her mobile phone, but it was impossible. It had been resting on the counter, still off, since she arrived, and she tried my best to keep it that way. Wagner had her daughter, her parents and her best friend by her side; Niall, since she told him what happened with the now Ferrari driver, started sending her a postcard a few days before just in case it didn't arrive on time. Even her ex-in-laws met with her, if not the day before, the day after.

What the woman was trying to avoid at all costs was the damn email that Sebastian sent every April 27th, which she wished she could read but didn't because she knew it would leave her shattered.

She sighed and ended up taking the device, knowing that if she wanted to reveal the truth to the sunshine of her life, today would be a good day to do it, as Hanna had told her.

"Mummy! We have a present for you!"

Diana jumped when she heard Emily's shouts. The little girl and Hanna were running and walking, respectively, towards her. Her daughter was carrying a bag in one hand in which she could see the head of Billy, her favorite stuffed panda.

Emily didn't hesitate to hand her mother the bag, teddy bear included, as soon as she got beside her. Hanna also approached Diana as she focused on her daughter, holding a cake in her hands.

"Don't say anything," Hanna started, knowing her friend would ask why. "It was Heike's idea, and since she knows how much you like cookie cake..."

"Especially hers," she replied with a laugh, remembering all the times her and Seb asked her to make that cake beyond special occasions. "God, you don't know how much I appreciate this... Did she like the tulips?"

She nodded, placing the cake on the counter.

"She said they would have been better if you had given them to her. She wants to see you, Diana," she added.

"I know."

"Do you want us to blow out the candles again, mummy?"

Emily's interruption and question took Di completely by surprise. It was impossible to resist the sparkle in her eyes and her curved lips.

It was as if she was denying Seb, not her.

"Of course, darling."

Despite how mentally bad she felt, Wagner made an effort not to show it. She took her daughter in her arms, and together they approached the cake. Prater started the singing, and mother and daughter joined her immediately while swaying from side to side.

The birthday girl blew out the candles as soon as the other two started clapping and, for once in long time, she wished to see Seb again, even if it was just for a moment.

A welcome, a new beginning or a farewell, definitive goodbye. At this point she didn't really care much about it.

Thinking too much about Sebastian Vettel in the past few weeks had been the real reason why she decided to publish Red the day before, as it was a song she had composed while pregnant with Emily because she missed him so much. And she still did.

Seeing her daughter not only playing on the little stage where Di was used to sing almost every night with a couple of toy cars, including her father's Ferrari Formula 1 car, and her stuffed animal, reminded the woman of the countless times Seb and her promised each other this life... but together.

"First of all, I don't want you to panic, but... you have to see this."

Hanna Prater's words scared her like they rarely did.

With her phone in hand and without saying a word, Hanna placed it in front of Diana, revealing the views the YouTube video she uploaded had garnered in less than 24 hours.

Her eyes widened at the high number on the screen. A small scream escaped her lips, startling Hanna, who imitated her, and even Emily, who ran towards us with great concern on her face.

"Mommy, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, darling," she assured her, trying to contain the shock. "Keep playing. Aunt Hanna and I are talking about some things for my birthday party tonight."

Diana's answer seemed to calm her. She nodded with a smile and returned to the stage, leaving them alone again.

"Yes, I know, Hanna, I have to improvise a birthday party now. I swear I'll do it as soon as we finish all this," she replied, anticipating her reproach.

Hanna shook her head and buried herself in her phone again. She seemed completely engrossed in it; her fingers were constantly moving across the screen, worrying Di about everything she was trying to show her.

Hanna, I need you to tell me if it's Di behind this link.

I mean, you don't have to tell me because I know it's her. She sounds exactly like Di, and she plays the piano, which is a plus because Di knows how to play the piano...

God, I feel like a mix of Sherlock and a stalker.

You understand me, so...

Jeez, tell her to answer the message I've sent her, please.

I just want to know if the song is about us or if I'm just getting my hopes up four years after breaking up.

And, with those words and butterflies invading her stomach, Diana clicked on the link he attached. There she was, playing the piano while singing a song about the same guy who had not only talked to her best friend, but also herself.

"Did Seb send you that message?" she wanted to know, thinking it was really a joke.

Prater nodded.

"It seems he didn't just send you the annual email, but also a WhatsApp message."

"A message and an email that, by the way, I am not going to read. Neither of them," Diana assured her.

"He knows you're the one singing Red , and he suspects Red is about him," her friend began to say. "Don't you think there are too many coincidences for you two to, I don't know, talk or something?"

"I have nothing to talk to him about," she replied.

"Emily's existence means nothing to you then?"

It meant everything, but Diana had mixed feelings about telling Sebastian.

He was going to hate her, that was clear, but she didn't want that hate to end up being directed at Emily because of something that was completely her fault.

"Emily means everything to me, but I can't let Seb know, at least not for now. He has many chances of winning the championship this year finally, and..."

Once again, another excuse to avoid reality and the fear she had to his rejection.

"Diana, I love you so much and you know it, but you can't keep going on like this," Prater stated, raising her voice a little. "His parents know, yours know; I know, and possibly a large majority of people in this town. For God's sake, even Britta knows, and I don't even know how she hasn't told him yet!"

"Britta came..."

"I know perfectly well that Britta came looking for an explanation, just what Seb didn't do and maybe should have done even though you asked for space," she interrupted her, wanting to continue her impromptu speech. "If you want to move forward, you have to face your fear for once. If you won't do it for yourself, at least do it for Emily. She deserves to know her father and not ask me why her friends in kindergarten have dads and she doesn't."

Hanna's words made Diana feel like the villain of the story, the one doing everything wrong. She wanted to ignore her advice and, as always, avoid the subject, but she knew she was right.

"I can't, Hanna. I can't turn on the mobile phone. Not today."

"Allow yourself to start your thirties on the right foot. Don't you think it's better to face fear with someone than to go through it alone? You have me here for whatever you need, Diana, and you know it."

She let out a long sigh. Then, walked to the bar, took her phone with trembling hands and turned it on, feeling the anxiety and uncertainty increase as the device slowly lit up.

When she entered the code and unlocked it, notifications started to appear.

Di gradually checked the YouTube notifications, seeing the overwhelming number of likes and comments. Hanna, whose head was peeking to try to see something, shushed me when she ignored the YouTube-related emails and moved on to the text messages, caring little about what she thought.

Niall told her that going viral on her birthday was not only the best thing that could happen to her and the best birthday present they could have given me, but also a whimsical sign from fate to do something worthwhile with her music. At the end of the message, the Irishman asked Wagner to call him when she could, as it was important.

She moved on to Sebastian's PR message, completely ignoring the Irishman's nudge and other various birthday greetings. Britta asked how she could post a video, singing, without telling her anything and, much less, singing about her client. She said Diana was crazy and lucky that Vettel hadn't suspected anything about the song or, fortunately, about mäuschen .

Di calmed down a bit, but the tranquility barely lasted. Seb's message was the one at the top of the WhatsApp home page. It was more than obvious that it was the most recent, from just an hour ago. Also, it was the least one she wanted to open.

She looked up at Hanna, seeking the confirmation she knew she didn't need, and that she had already given her.

"Open it, Diana. It's okay."

The young woman had to be alone when she did it. She asked her friend to take care of Emily and wait for a moment, that she'd be back as soon as possible.

Di decided to go into the bathroom without much thinking, positioning herself on one of the corners and sat on the floor, legs crossed and the phone in her hands, and started having flashbacks of the day she broke up with Seb.

Happy birthday, Di. If you can and, above all, want to, please read the email I sent you. I know it's you. The girl behind the song that went viral, I mean. The song is great, but I couldn't expect anything less from you. It's pure art.

Tears were already falling down her face. She took a deep breath and forced herself, though it might not have been better in her current situation, to open the message her ex was talking about.

As usual, she received it at midnight and, of course, the profile picture was still one with them lying in bed, Seb kissing her cheeks and Di smiling, quite happy, just as she was now.

Dear sunshine of my life,

Happy birthday. Or better said: happy 30th birthday.

I know we haven't heard from each other directly in four years. Maybe you see me on TV from time to time, or maybe not, and the last time I saw you was a few years ago, but that's not the point.

Maybe I wasn't the best boyfriend in the world, nor the best friend. I still wonder what I did to make you leave like that, but I won't blame you, at least not after so much time. I miss you more than I can express, and you don't know what I would give to have the chance to fix things between us.

I can't ask you to forgive me, nor can I force you to come back to me or to have a friendship, cordiality or whatever you want to call it, but I hope we can find the opportunity to forgive each other.

If you're ever ready to talk, or for anything you want, I will always be waiting for you, just as I have done for these past four, almost five, years.

P.S.: My mother always tells me she makes a cookie cake for your birthday, so I hope for your thirtieth she makes a special one and you all enjoy it as you deserve.

Tears blurred her vision as she continued reading Sebastian's words. A wave of emotions, ranging from anger and disappointment to perhaps, confusion, flooded every part of her body.

Diana began to write that she wanted to say to him, that what she most desired in this world and what she most regretted was the ultimatum she gave him. That she could meet whenever he wanted to tell him everything that had happened since that day in Barcelona. That Emily is his daughter, that she looks more like him every day, and that she was fully convinced the moment he meets her, she'll become his favorite person ever.

After rereading all her words, written in desperation, she stopped.

Di couldn't send him that; she couldn't reply, at least not yet. She couldn't give him false hopes, not when the possibility that revealing Emily's existence might affect the championship he so longed desired to win with Ferrari not just since he joined the team in 2015, but since they both barely knew themselves and were nothing than mere friends that were heading their feelings to each other, making stupid decisions that hurt them since conversations were held, since questions were asked.

The blonde decided to delete the message and, instead, phone Horan's number, promising herself that she would reply to Seb as soon as she hung up. She dried her tears, inhaled and exhaled deeply, trying to calm down a bit more, and left the bathroom with much more confidence than when she entered, as she heard the phone ringing.

Emily was still playing, now dancing to some music, while Hanna was speaking too heatedly in their native language with someone. Di tried to pay attention to what the blonde was saying, but the Irishman's voice on the phone caught her off guard:

"Next week. London. Joseph Benson being your personal Britta, maybe?"

She didn't understand anything, and the mere mention of Roeske made her shudder. She knew Niall had done it with the best of his intentions, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt.

"What?"

"Capital Records, Diana," Niall affirmed. "They heard Red and, although they don't know who you are or who the girl behind the song is, better said, I want to introduce you to them. Maybe I told them I knew the girl behind that..."

Di saw her friend ending the call too quickly just to approach her, visibly desperate. She made some gestures, grabbing her arms to try get her attention.

"Jeez, Hanna, wait," she replied grumpily in German.

"Is Hanna there?" the singer wanted to know. "Say her hi for me, and thanks in advance for taking care of Emily next week!"

"We'll talk about it later, Niall. People are starting to come into the bar."

With that excuse, and without giving him time to finish talking, Diana hung up. She turned to Hanna, who was still desperate, making her also start to get desperate and worried.

"What happened?" Wagner demanded to know, considering she hadn't said anything yet.

"I just talked to Sebastian and Britta."

Hanna's expression had now become more serious. Di's chest started to ache, and her heart began to beat faster.

"And...?"

"Sebastian is coming next week," she said in a low voice so Emily wouldn't hear. "I know you'll come up with some excuse, and that you also have to talk to Niall about I don't know, but he wants to talk. Seb wants to talk to you... He wants to have a serious conversation with you, Diana."

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vettelsvee · 8 days ago

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GOODBYES ARE BITTERSWEET | Sebastian Vettel ✩₊˚.⋆ PART 6: SUNSHINE [PREVIOUS PART] [NEXT PART]

goodbyes are bittersweet masterlist | f1 masterlist

PAIRING: Ferrari Sebastian Vettel x Ex girlfriend!Reader WORD COUNT: 4k SUMMARY: With the help of Seb, Britta and Niall, you are given a second chance to accept the contract you first refused to sign. Also... emotions make you tell Seb a little bit more than you should have about Emily WARNINGS: Curse words, mentions of sex, angst TAGLIST: [ I'm modifying it so feel free to tell me if you wanna join <3 ] VEE'S NOTES: Can't believe it's been a whole year since this series was posted! I didn't expect anything from it (specially taking into account not many people read about Seb) and it absolutely blew up, A LOT. Thank you so much to those of you who have been interested in it even when being delayed, and I apologize for not having updated it... too many things happened that made writing difficult for me. But here we are again! Hope you like it and, if so, remember reblogs/likes/comments are appreciated. Thank you so much for reading! <3

“Morning… I have a meeting scheduled with Mr. Taylor at 10:30. I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”

“One moment, please. I’ll check the info first…”

You offered a shy smile while the receptionist, not much older than you, looked you up and down over the top of her computer screen. She typed steadily, sizing you up without saying a word.

“Yes, they’re expecting you on the fifth floor,” she finally confirmed, handing you a visitor badge and motioning for you to put it on. You did as instructed. “The elevators are at the back of this floor, on your left. There’s only one office, so you won’t have trouble finding it.”

You thanked her and head off.

The elevator was lined entirely with mirrors, reflecting your image from every angle. To make the time go faster, and maybe distract yourself from the nerves, you studied your reflection. The mirrors made you feel slightly self-conscious, but still, you looked.

You dressed formally today: white shirt, black blazer, pencil skirt, matching heels. You weren’t sure if it was the right outfit, but at least it gave the appearance of confidence… even if, deep down, you were still the same girl who ran away and rejected a life-changing contract just weeks ago because fear had frozen you in place.

Suddenly, the elevator stopped, snapping you out of your thoughts. The doors opened to reveal the floor. Just like the receptionist said, there was just one room. And it was much bigger than you expected… High windows, a long meeting table, chairs perfectly aligned… except one, slightly pushed back. A figure sat in it, back turned.

You entered cautiously, adjusting your clothes. Even though your steps were soft, Peter Williams, the director of Capitol Records, noticed your presence the moment you crossed the threshold.

“I see you’ve arrived early, Y/N,” he said, turning toward you. “I’m glad you reconsidered our proposal.”

He extended a hand. You shook it and sat across from him, trying not to look as tense as you felt.

“I wanted to thank you for accepting my proposal… again,” you began, doing your best to keep your voice steady. “I know not everyone gets a second chance, especially in this industry…”

“There was some… pressure. Let’s leave it at that,” he interrupted, eyes narrowing as he assessed you. “It’s impossible to deny that Red has been a phenomenon online, but it’s also impossible for me to take a no for an answer. I don’t expect you to understand that, but we don’t like being left “on read” and rejected only to be begged later, Y/N.”

You met his gaze, even though shame churned in your stomach.

“It wasn’t the right time. I didn’t want to commit if I knew I couldn’t give 100% of myself,” you explained.

“And now you can? Just a few weeks later?”

You didn't reply. Not because you didn’t have an answer, but because you knew, deep down, he was right. He had a point, and you couldn’t deny that.

“Seeing as you’re now committed… I’d like to introduce you to someone before we start talking about everything your life is about to become.”

At his words, the door opened. A tall man, maybe in his fifties, walked in with confident strides. Dark hair, a touch of stubble, rimless glasses and a perfectly tailored suit. Unlike Peter, though, his smile was warm and genuine.

“Y/N, this is Joseph Benson,” Peter introduced. You stood up with more confidence this time and offered your hand first. “From now on, he’ll be your manager. Hand-picked by us. Everything related to PR, public image, media and brand relationships, among others, will go through him.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

You smiled back and returned to your seat, now with Benson besides you. He opened the iPad he brought and started scrolling through what looked like the plan, in detail, for your new life.

Peter pulled out a black folder and slid it toward you. You hesitated, unsure, until he clarified:

“This is what we’re offering,” he said, pointing. You opened it slowly, reading as you listened. “Two-year contract, extendable. Full studio album, international distribution, a tour depending on success. Three music videos, including one for Red, with all promotion included.”

“And when would we start? Is there a set date, or…?”

“We want to start now, Y/N.”

“Now, as in…”

“This week,” Peter said bluntly.

Your eyes widened. Peter rolled his. Joseph chuckled quietly, finding your reaction endearing, almost childlike.

“You’ll stay in London until July. We’ll handle everything here. All expenses paid for you and your companions… Rosalie Y/L/N and Emily Y/L/N, right?” You nodded. “We’ll provide a full team: production, vocal coaching, video shoots. We need you present and committed. Joseph’s already working on your schedule.”

You nodded again, forcing yourself to stay calm even when the anxiety began to rise.

“And the promotion part? That’s included too?”

“That’s where I come in,” Joseph replied. “The Red video drops in June, so we’ll start promotion a few weeks earlier. July includes interviews on BBC Radio 1, some big podcasts… and we’re working on something with Red Bull Racing.”

“Red Bull Racing? The Formula 1 team?”

Peter scoffed, already losing patience.

“They offered to sponsor you after you stood us up.”

“The thing is…” Joseph stepped in gently, “they pulled strings. You’ve been invited to sing the national anthem at the German Grand Prix… and to perform afterward. Your first concert of your career, I might add”

“They’ve taken an unusual interest in you, according to…” Peter checked his phone. “Britta Roeske,” he said with a touch of disdain, which you didn’t appreciate. “I guess someone with influence in the sport cares about you. Sebastian Vettel. You know him?”

You tensed.

“Yes. He’s… familiar.”

“Well, that familiar guy you dated for years personally called our office. Multiple times. So did that Britta woman, his PR person or whatever, begging us to give you another damn chance.”

“I didn’t know…”

“When a four-time world champion and Red Bull’s former golden boy speaks highly of their former golden girl, and the team backs him… we listen,” Peter said firmly.

“Niall wrote to us too,” Joseph adds kindly. “You’ve known each other a few years, right?”

“Yes,” you answered. “He was in Heppenheim a few years ago when we…”

“The point is,” Peter cut in, “among Niall, Vettel, his assistant, and Red Bull’s marketing team, they got us back here. We don’t usually give second chances. Especially not to nobodies like you… if we can even call you that, considering your history with that driver…”

Your throat tightened. You wanted to scream. Cry. Stay in the room, and leave it all behind. Peter’s tone made you want to walk out, but the fact that Sebastian went out of his way to help you? That stunned you.

You expected Niall to step in. But Seb? After everything you did? After you broke his heart and disappeared for years?

And he still knew nothing about Emily.

“I understand… I know you’re upset I said no the first time,” you began, choosing your words carefully to avoid sounding desperate. You sigh. “But I didn’t ask anyone to speak on my behalf. I didn’t beg for a second chance.”

“The thing is, Y/N, we don’t like having our time wasted,” Peter said confidently. “So I hope you’re actually ready.”

Silence.

You holded his gaze. Then, you spoke:

“I’ve always been ready, Mr. Williams. Sometimes, though, our inner voice overwhelms us,” you took one last look at the contract, then shut the folder and pushed it toward him. “I accept everything. But I need one thing clear: I want a say in everything. I want to tell my story. And if I can’t do it my way… I won’t be doing it.”

Peter nodded, biting his tongue. He glanced at Joseph, who handed you the iPad with the digital version of the contract. You took a breath and started reading it again, this time more carefully, scrutinizing every clause, every line of fine print that could ruin you if you overlook something important.

“This isn’t a dictatorship, but it’s a business, Y/N,” the director of the label warned while you scrolled. “Be aware of the consequences of every single thing you do. Any decision, even the ones you try to keep secret, can shape the course of your life. I think you already know what I mean…”

You chose to ignore the rudeness laced in his tone. Instead, you gripped the stylus and made a clean, confident stroke in the signature box your manager had pointed out.

“Done.”

Peter stood up. Joseph followed him, so did you, straightening your posture.

“Welcome officially to Capitol Records, Y/N Y/L/N.”

You shook Peter’s hand and, without saying anything else, left the room. Joseph followed, calm and composed, as though he hadn’t noticed the thick tension that had lingered during the entire meeting.

“I can tell you’re really… lost in thought, Y/N.”

You stopped the moment your heels touched the pavement outside the building. Turning, you find him lighting a cigarette. He offered you one. You shook your head politely, though every nerve in your body screamed for the familiar comfort of smoke in your lungs again.

“I’m just… processing,” you replied with a crooked half-smile. “Everything’s so different. I just signed something that could change my entire life, even if only a little, so forgive me if I’m not out here jumping with champagne and drugs.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll celebrate for us both,” Joseph said, blowing the smoke toward the street. “Also, before you go, just know… you don’t have to worry. I’ll be by your side the whole time. I’m not the kind of manager who only shows up on red carpets and claims credit when the artist wins something. I’ll be proud of you throughout the process, not just at the finish line.”

You raise a brow.

“So… are you getting anything out of this?”

He grinned.

“A girl who feels comfortable with her contract, even when everything in her screams to run.”

He gestured vaguely toward the building behind you.

“I know Peter acted like the asshole he usually is, but I’m not like him.”

“I hope not.”

“I also know Niall personally. If he hadn’t seen something in you, he wouldn’t have spoken up. Same goes for Vettel… I don’t know him, but from what I heard from him, from Britta, it says a lot about who you really are, Y/N.”

You looked at him and, for the first time since arriving in London, you felt something new. Not just welcomed… but like your sacrifice might actually be worth it.

Like you might be worth it.

“You know what I like most about you?” Joseph asked, stomping his cigarette out on the pavement.

“That you can market me as a Formula 1 driver’s ex?” you asked dryly while sarcastically. “Because if that’s the case, I really don’t—”

“No. Not at all. That’s exactly what I was not going to say. What I like is that, even if you don’t see your worth yet, you fight for your work. You stood your ground with Peter. Yeah, we’ll have to work on your confidence, and yeah, maybe you were scared the first time we offered the deal… but now you’re here. You didn’t come crawling back. You showed up with your head high. And believe me… that shows.”

You lowered your gaze. The words warmed something in your chest, but they also stinged because you didn’t feel brave or confident.

“I did it to protect someone important to me,” you said, the words escaping before you can stop them. “I was, I am, fully aware of how becoming a public figure might change everything. I want to keep my private life private. But my priority is…”

“I’m guessing Emily. And I’m also guessing she’s your daughter, right?” Joseph cut in, his tone firm but gentle. “Let me make this clear: she will be protected. Any mention of her, any public appearance, will only happen if you allow it. As your manager, I promise her safety and well-being will be just as much of a priority as yours. If that’s what’s been eating at you, don’t let it sink.”

His words hit you with such force you went pale. You were overwhelmed and comforted at the same time, emotions clashing within you like opposing tides.

Joseph seemed to notice and softened his voice again.

“Take the afternoon for yourself. We start tomorrow. First thing: ideas for the Red music video. Then we shoot it. You’ll set the release date, but it can’t clash with the Red Bull shoot. By the way, they’re thrilled with you. Said you perfectly fit the rebellious spirit they like to push.”

You rolled your eyes but laughed for the first time in hours.

“For a girl who rejected their sponsorship, had a kid they don’t even know about, and dumped their favorite driver? That’s what they’re selling?”

“Told you already, girl: you’re more than that,” Joseph says seriously. “And hey… if I can give you one piece of advice, thank him. What he did for you… isn’t normal. Especially not for an ex. And I doubt it was easy.”

“Yeah. Yeah… sure.”

You didn’t say anything else.

You waved goodbye and slipped into the crowd. London swallowed you up like one of its own. You headed toward a nearby square, a small park nestled in the center. Only two people were there.

Rosalie sat on a bench, talking on the phone, eyes fixed on the child playing on the slide.

“Mama!”

The little voice sliced through your heart. Emily rushed toward you, arms flailing, squealing with joy. You barely got your arms open in time before she launched herself at you, peppering your face with kisses.

“Did they say yes, mama?! Are you going to sing the song you always sing at home?!”

You laughed, holding her close, pressing your lips to her soft blonde curls as you walked toward your mother.

“Yes, mäuschen. Mama’s going to record that song. And more songs too.”

“Are you going to be on TV?” Emily asked, eyes wide open.

“Maybe. Do you want mama to be on TV?”

“Yes! Maybe you can even be on it with Sebastian! Remember? The man that drives the fast red car and is Mrs. Heike and Mr. Norbert’s son!”

Rosalie joined you both, grinning. She pulled you and Emily into a hug.

“So… it’s done? You signed?” she asked.

You nodded.

“I have to stay here… at least until July. They said you and Emily can stay too. Expenses covered.”

Your mother studied you.

“And… are you okay with all of it?”

“It’s what I want,” you replied firmly, skirting the real answer.

The three of you strolled through the streets of London, Emily skipping beside you, singing nonsense songs, asking to be picked up or begging to fly between your arms.

“And now what?” your mother wondered. “Do you start the album?”

“Yes. Everything starts tomorrow. I’ve got a manager, Joseph. He’s actually… nice. We’re going to start filming the Red video once the concept’s finalized.”

“And are you ready for all of this?”

You didn’t answer. Being ready felt too small.

“I’m going to do it. For me… and for Emily.”

Rosalie slowed her pace, prompting both you and Emily to do the same.

“And also for Seb, right?”

Her question hit like cold water. You dropped your gaze, suddenly fiddling with your fingers.

“It shouldn’t be, but… yes. Partly, I want to do this for Seb,” you admitted. “He pulled so many strings, and after—”

You stopped. Your emotions swell too close to the surface.

“I was such an idiot for so many years, and now… he does this for me. I don’t know how to thank him,” you continued, trying not to break down.

“Y/N, love… It’s been five years since you left that boy without telling him the truth,” Rosalie said, lowering her voice so Emily wouldn’t hear. “I didn’t agree with your choice back then. And I’m not going to judge you now. But I’m still your mother. And I have to say it: it’s time to stop living this half-truth that only your father, me, Hanna, and Seb’s parents know. It’s eating you alive.”

You felt the tears rising. You looked up, blinking fast, shaking your head like that might keep them from falling.

You couldn’t cry. Not in front of Emily.

You didn’t want her to see you broken.

“You know I want to tell him. But you also know I don’t know how to tell him,” you said quietly. “I don’t know how to say he has a daughter. I don’t know how to explain that I broke up with him thinking it was better for him, because I was afraid of ruining his career, of dragging down our relationship… and that’s exactly what ended up happening.”

Rosalie took your hand gently, still watching Emily as she skipped along the sidewalk, carefully avoiding the cracks.

“Think about it… You have another chance now. If he helped you, if he moved heaven and earth for you… it’s because he still cares. Maybe it’s not love, or not what it used to be, but… something is still something. Even if it’s just crumbs.”

“And what if I tell him and then he hates me? What if he wants nothing to do with her?” you asked, tilting your head slightly toward Emily, mind flooded with worst-case scenarios.

“And what if he does want her? What if he’s always wanted a family, and you were part of that dream… and he didn’t even know about it?”

You were grateful you’d reached the hotel just then because your heart couldn’t carry the weight of it any longer.

You broke down. Tears spilled down your cheeks. Quietly, not dramatically, but heavy with everything you’d kept inside.

The elevator crawled upward, far too slowly for your liking, stretching the moment painfully. Your mother let you cry without saying a word. Emily watched you with worried eyes, then curled up in your lap, holding Rosalie’s hand tightly, yawning.

When the elevator reached the 12th floor, even the doors seemed to open in slow motion. You walked out together, keeping pace with your daughter, who stopped every couple of steps to observe something new.

“Mama, can I sleep with granny tonight?”

Rosalie, a few steps ahead with the room key, turned at the sound of your daughter’s voice. You blinked in confusion.

“With granny? Don’t you want to sleep with me?”

Emily shook her head with a smile.

“Granny told me at the park that if I was good, she’d tell me the story of the giant unicorn. And I was really good all day!”

She clapped her hands with joy, then walked over to you, tugging your hand so you’d crouch down to her level.

“You’re also sad, mama. And you cried a lot earlier… And you have red eyes.”

Her little voice trembled slightly, and when your eyes met hers, something in you shattered. No words were needed. None.

You stood up and looked at your mother, who, with just one glance, told you what she didn’t need to say aloud: call Sebastian.

And for the first time in a long time… you felt ready.

You kissed your daughter’s forehead, told her to be good for grandma, and reminded her that you loved her very much. Then you slid your key card into the reader and entered your room, letting out a deep, slow breath as you closed the door behind you.

After a shower, changing into something comfortable, and dimming the lights so that only your bed was softly illuminated, you sat cross-legged with your phone in hand. Your arms were wrapped tightly around yourself, like a shield.

You opened your contacts. Found his name.

Sebastian.

Without letting yourself think too much sin you were sure you’d back out if you did, you hit the FaceTime button and waited.

You fixed your hair in the reflection as the screen rang… until his face appeared.

“Y/N?”

He looked like he was in his room too. Dark gray t-shirt, hair tousled. His face held a strange mix of surprise, worry, and something warmer.

“Did something happen? Are you okay?” he asked immediately.

“Yeah, sure… I just wanted to talk to you. Are you free? I can call you some other time—”

“For you? I’ll always make time for you, sunshine,” he said, that familiar smile playing on his lips.

You asked how his weekend in Monaco had gone, and he launched into a detailed story. How happy he was to finish second, though he wouldn’t have minded stealing the win from Ricciardo. How he accidentally fell asleep in the Ferrari motorhome and Britta had to search half the Principality to find him. You both laughed and reminisced about the city, the past, the naughty things you used to do…

“Are you sure you’re okay, Y/N? You seem… I don’t know… really tired,” he said gently.

“I’m exhausted. That’s all.”

“London, right?” You nodded. “So… that means… you signed the contract.”

Without even having to say another word, he placed his phone down, probably on the nightstand, and stepped out of frame.

And then you heard it: loud clapping.

You laughed. A shaky, emotional sound that dissolved into tears. Not of sadness this time, but of relief. Of gratitude. Of finally letting go.

“There’s no turning back now,” you said, wiping your cheeks.

“Everything starts tomorrow officially and… God, Seb, I still can’t believe it.”

“You did it,” he said, picking the phone back up, his smile proud. “Fuck damn… you’re finally doing what you’ve been saying you wanted to do since… basically forever.”

“You mean we did it,” you corrected. “You’re the one who spoke up for me. When I told you I turned it down without even explaining why, you didn’t let it go. You made it happen. And I don’t even know how to thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me, Y/N.”

“Yes, I do!” you said, voice rising as you sat straighter. “You did something I didn’t have the courage to do for years: you gave me a second chance. Seb, for God’s sake… I left you overnight and still, you did this for me.”

Sebastian looked down, rubbing his jaw, a nervous habit you knew all too well. That familiarity stung and soothed you at once.

“When you truly love someone… that doesn’t just go away overnight,” he said finally. “Not even when you don’t understand why they left. Not even when it hurts. Not even when you try to move on and can’t.”

You couldn’t lie. That hit like a gut punch.

And with that came the tears again. Tears made of everything you’d kept locked up since the day you walked away.

“Do you want to know what the album is called?” you asked through your tears.

He tilted his head slightly. “Y/N, you don’t have to tell me if—”

“It’s called Sunshine.”

He didn’t say anything at first. He just stared at you, his face overtaken by emotion and shock.

“Sunshine…” he echoed, barely above a whisper. “Just like I used to call you. God, I just did it a few minutes ago...”

You nodded, crying more now but not hiding any of it.

“Yes. It was because of that… and, also… because that’s how you made me feel. How you still make me feel”

He swallowed hard, visibly shaken. He didn’t ask what you knew he wanted to ask. He didn’t have to.

“Also… because, well, now… I call someone else that. Someone very important to me, who, like you, changed my life completely.”

You watched his expression change, more serious now, but impossible to read. Jealousy? Confusion? A storm of unspoken questions?

He played with his hands, clearly trying to keep calm. But you knew he had sensed it.

You were hiding something from him. Someone.

He knew. He knew you all too well. And you knew it was a matter of time to start revealing the truth. The real, and not modified one.

“It’s a double album,” you continued, slowly now. “One part is inspired by you… and the other by that little person… by a little girl.”

45 notes · View notes

vettelsvee · 9 days ago

Text

GOODBYES ARE BITTERSWEET

CHAPTER 1: Loving him was red 🏎️ CHAPTER SUMMARY: The internet goes crazy, so the Formula 1 paddock does. A song just went viral on YouTube by an anon user, but Seb remembers Diana's voice all too well and, to his not so surprise, he somehow realizes that's her... singing a song that might actually be about him. ⤷📚 SERIES SUMMARY: Diana Wagner's plans didn't include her finding out she was pregnant with her long time boyfriend, three-time Formula 1 world champion, Sebastian Vettel. Neither was breaking up with him in 2013... or having to face him again 5 years later when she became viral after posting a song dedicated to him.And, of course, having his daughter he knows nothing about. ‼️ WARNINGS: Curse words, mentions of sex and one night stands.

SERIES MASTERLIST ✰ WATTPAD

2018 April 27th Baku, Azerbaijan

Sebastian woke up as soon as he felt the sun's rays hitting his face and, at that moment, he noticed a strangely warm presence beside him in bed.

Glancing at his phone, the Ferrari driver saw that it was already half-past seven in the morning. Not only had he realized that his alarm hadn't gone off and he'd overslept by an hour and a half, but it was also Diana's birthday.

As every year, there was no response to the email he had scheduled to be sent at midnight.

After nearly five years of barely knowing anything about her and only catching glimpses of her a couple of times in Heppenheim, he understood, deep down, why he kept reaching out in this small way. He still loved her as much as he did the first day they met... if not more. He longed for a reunion where they could catch up on their lives and restart a simple friendship as if nothing had happened, as if she hadn't chosen to leave his life and pretend not to know him.

Vettel decided to turn over and see what was crowding him to the edge of the bed. He found himself staring into a pair of blue eyes, definitely not the green ones he'd dreamed of. This girl had brown hair instead of blonde, though her fair skin matched that of the woman who, apparently, had shared his bed last night.

Suddenly, hazy memories from a few hours earlier started to surface. A few beers at a local pub to escape the blurred memory of Di had led to meeting this charming young woman with a bright smile.

He couldn't piece together how they'd ended up here, but her persistence, his invitation for her to come to his hotel, and possibly a taxi ride he paid for, were all part of his attempt to escape reality.

This had become his routine since realizing his ex-girlfriend wasn't coming back into his life. He didn't like this version of himself, and despite efforts to find a stable partner, fleeting kindness and temporary refuge had been his best attempts to forget Diana Wagner, who always managed to slip into his thoughts when least expected.

Seb quickly got out of bed, and without thinking twice, he headed for the shower, trying to let the warm water wash away the events of the previous night. Closing his eyes, he let himself drift, hoping to organize his thoughts and find a way out of the problem he had created. But it was impossible.

Exiting the shower faster than he'd have liked, the German returned to the room with just a towel wrapped around his waist, leaving his torso exposed, only to find the last person he wanted to see at that moment.

The brunette was stretching in bed, dawdling as though reluctant to leave.

"Would you mind leaving?" he asked.

His rhetorical question made her look at him in surprise, her eyes still sleepy.

"Why, Seb? Can't we spend the day together? I could go with you to the paddock and we could repeat what we did last night in your room... or whatever you call it," she suggested with a playful smile. "You know as well as I do that it would be fun."

A knot formed in his stomach. It wasn't that he hadn't enjoyed her company or was forbidden from doing so, but knowing who was turning thirty today, and that this exact invitation was something he used to do with Diana...

"I don't think it's a good idea..."

Damn, he didn't remember her name.

"Alessia."

"That's it, Alessia," Sebastian confirmed. "You know how these things are and what it could mean if we're seen together. We could meet another day as... friends."

Neither his response nor hers matched what the other expected. Hearing her name triggered a memory of the brief introduction she'd given him the night before: a musician just starting out, and a member of a successful Italian orchestra.

An Italian version of Di and, unfortunately for him, and perhaps the blonde, a successful one.

"The way you moaned my name last night so many times isn't exactly what friends do. You made me feel special last night. A lot, in fact."

"I'm really sorry, Alessia, but that wasn't what I meant," he clarified, cheeks flushing slightly at her words. "I hope you enjoyed what we did, but it's time for you to get dressed and head back to your hotel or wherever you're staying. I have to get to work," he added, fighting against her evident charms.

After several more attempts to persuade him, the girl finally resigned herself and reluctantly accepted his suggestion. He felt uncomfortable as she tossed aside the sheets and began gathering her clothes, entirely unclothed. He felt even worse as he noticed her slow, deliberate movements, as though she was prolonging the inevitable farewell and trying to tempt him.

He bit his lip and refrained from saying anything when she asked for help to zip her dress. Though Seb could've refused, he didn't want to come across as rude, especially given that their time together had made him feel, just for a moment, like he had with his ex-girlfriend.

Once they were finished, Alessia approached him with determination. Before he could react, her lips sought his with clear intent. Instinctively, he turned his face, causing her kiss to land on his cheek.

"Alessia..."

What could he say in a moment like this? Did she deserve the disappointment he was about to cause her, even though they'd only shared one wild night, like so many others he'd had since Diana?

"I'm sorry," she murmured, quickly glancing away. "I thought... you know, that we could have something more than just a one-night stand."

Seb's heart sank at her words, and, as he had foreseen because it always happened in these situations. Guilt overwhelmed him.

He knew he had been unfair to her by letting this happen, allowing her to think there could be more between them, that the issue lay with her, when the truth was he hadn't moved past the love of his life in nearly five years of no contact.

"Alessia, you're an incredible person," Vettel started, choosing his words carefully, trying not to hurt her more. "But right now, all I want to focus on is my work and... on myself. It wouldn't be fair to involve you in all this, only for you to end up hurt."

"I understand," the musician said softly, nodding with a sadness that, though expected, still surprised him. "Thank you for letting me spend this night with you, Sebastian."

A mixture of relief and remorse surged through the driver as he watched her leave, not even glancing back.

After waiting long enough to be certain he wouldn't cross paths with her again, he made his way down to the hotel lobby, still weighed down by guilt. He tried to shake it off, but the moment he saw Britta standing by the entrance, arms crossed, her expression stern and angry, he knew it wouldn't be easy.

"Sebastian, again?" she asked, full of frustration.

"Yes, and I'm not going to apologize for something I don't regret," he replied sincerely, knowing there was no way to avoid the upcoming conversation.

"Are you going to keep playing this game much longer?" Britta reproached, quickening her pace to avoid drawing attention. "You've gone longer than I'd like to admit without settling down."

"I will when I get tired of sleeping with girls I don't know, I suppose. Having sex is good for health, you know? Be thankful I don't cause you many problems after these nights," he replied with a smirk.

Britta sighed, visibly losing the little patience she had left.

"I know you didn't ask for my opinion, but I think what might make you tired of this routine of sleeping with strangers almost every Grand Prix weekend would be having some kind of interaction with Diana."

The mention of Diana's name stirred up a flood of emotions Seb had tried to bury for years, suddenly hitting him with full force.

"You know I can't do that. It's impossible. I've tried, but she doesn't want to cooperate."

"You should, at least, try once more. I know there's nothing, nor anyone, who can change her mind," Britta said, and it was true: Diana was the most stubborn person he'd ever met, for better or worse. "But I also know that if you keep avoiding your feelings and don't try to forgive yourself, you'll never find the peace you're not only wishing for but deserving of."

"I know, Britta, but..."

"But what, Sebastian?"

"Have you ever heard of the invisible string theory?"

She raised an eyebrow, surprised by the sudden change of subject and likely at being interrupted mid-sentence. Slowing her pace, for the first time that morning, the PR looked at him with a calm, understanding expression.

"Yes, I've heard something about that," she said, after what felt like an eternity. "What does that have to do with getting over your ex-girlfriend?"

"Well, everything, really," the driver replied. "Di and I "dated", if you can even call it that, for ten days during Christmas of '99. She was eleven, and I was twelve. I was a bit stupid because I ended up breaking up with her when I fell for a classmate who'd just moved to Heppenheim and who eventually started dating my cousin."

"But..."

"Then Di and I kept being friends," he continued, not letting her interrupt, "and it took us six years until she told me she loved me. I didn't want to admit my feelings and thought ignoring her for four months was the best way to deal with it, not even offering my condolences after her grandmother's death. And yet, in the end, I asked her to go out with me."

Britta sighed, perhaps tired of hearing the story yet again, a story he never tired of telling, because sometimes reality was stranger than fiction.

"I'm going to tell you what I've always told you since Di left, and I don't care if you don't want to hear it: you're still clinging to the hope that things will go back to how they were, even though you know it's not possible," Roeske said firmly. "Even if you ran into her and had a deep conversation, your lives have changed. Yours has, and I'm sure hers has too."

"I mentioned the invisible string theory because I feel there's something else. I feel there's an unknown tie between us, and... that the third time's the final one," he confessed.

Vettel's words seemed to catch her off guard. Britta slowed her pace and passed her accreditation to enter the paddock much more slowly than usual, visibly affected by his revelation.

Maybe Britta was right. Maybe he was holding on too tightly to the hope that everything could go back to how it was. But Seb really couldn't shake the dreams he'd been having about Di lately. After months without any, she'd slipped back into his nights, almost as though she'd never left, always close yet out of reach.

The last time he'd felt this way it ended with him watching her from afar, playing with a little girl, likely someone she was babysitting for extra cash. He hadn't dared approach; she seemed happy, genuinely so, and he didn't want to disrupt that.

"I'd like to keep talking about this," Britta's change in tone broke his thoughts, "but I need you to stop thinking about Diana, at least for a few hours, and focus on today. We have a lot to get through."

"Then enlighten me, master."

"First, you have a team meeting to discuss strategies for practice and ideas for tomorrow's qualifying," she explained, flipping open her planner to go over the day's schedule. "Then you've got an interview with SkySports... Nico Rosberg, I think, and maybe a chat about a potential brand collaboration, though I'll confirm that one."

"What time is the meeting with the engineers?"

"Around nine-thirty, but..."

Sebastian yawned, not bothering to cover his mouth, as Britta continued. Exhaustion from the previous night weighed on him, and he felt his eyelids drooping. He checked his phone: it was only eight-fifteen.

"Got it," he replied, pretending to have absorbed every detail. "By the way, do you mind if I head to my driver's room for a quick nap?"

"Sebastian..." Britta's arms were crossed, her gaze stern.

"I had a fantastic night," he admitted, earning an unimpressed look from her, "but I didn't get any sleep. If I want to perform well, I need at least a little rest, don't you think?"

"You have forty-five minutes, tops," she snapped. "Don't be late, or we'll have problems. Set your alarm, and make sure your phone's on in case someone calls."

It won't be Di, he thought bitterly.

"I will, don't worry."

After sharing a few more words with Britta, Seb headed off, feeling the fatigue settle in with each step. He knew he should have slept longer but had fallen into his usual habit of trying, unsuccessfully, to forget Di on her birthday.

As he walked through the pit lane, faint, distant chatter filled his ears, but he struggled to focus. All around him, people murmured excitedly, their words blending together in a low buzz. "Viral" and "song" seemed to be the day's main topics, particularly coming from Max, Daniel and Charles.

"Have you heard this song?" Verstappen asked, stopping Sebastian from walking as he recognized the opening piano chords. "It's like a pandemic, it's everywhere."

"I don't know who the girl singing is, but I must recognize she's incredibly talented," Ricciardo added.

"You don't even know if it's a girl!" Leclerc protested, playfully smacking Daniel on the arm. "What if it's a guy with a high voice?"

Sebastian chuckled at their antics, wondering if his former teammates had seen him that way back when he was their age.

Losing him was blue like i'd never known Missing him was dark gray all alone Forgetting him was like trying to know somebody you never met Cos' loving him was red

If his eyes were almost closing automatically, after hearing the chorus or whatever it was called, it felt as if Sebastian had taken an energy drink that jolted him awake.

The moment that voice, both raspy and sweet at the same time, penetrated his ear, his hair stood on end. Its familiarity was incredible... but no, it couldn't be her. It was impossible.

"God damn, who can play the piano while singing?"

"I have two questions," Daniel blurted out, ignoring Charles' words. "The first one is who the hell it could be, and the second is how they've gotten so much attention out of nowhere."

It's Di, who else could it be, Sebastian thought.

He tried to control the flood of thoughts racing through his mind. He knew his ex-girlfriend's voice perfectly, and the one coming from the Dutchman's phone was eerily similar to hers.

"Maybe it's a marketing strategy. At least that's what Fernando thinks," Max always had the Spaniard's name in his mouth. "What if it's a record label's plan to generate interest in an artist or a song?"

"I highly doubt it. If they wanted that, the YouTube account wouldn't be named 151206010614."

Lewis appeared next to Sebastian out of nowhere. Quickly taking off his headphones, he unplugged them from his phone, letting the song play at full volume.

"Seb, are you okay?" the Brit insisted.

"Yes, yes... I was just a bit distracted," he replied hurriedly.

Lewis didn't seem satisfied with his answer, but Seb didn't care. All he could think about was reaching the hospitality area and taking a short nap.

"Are you also distracted by that anonymous person?"

"I can't be distracted by someone I know nothing about except for their voice," Vettel replied, gesturing toward the three drivers still engrossed in the topic.

"I've managed to hear a bit," Lewis replied. "I think I understand music a little more than they do. I'm almost sure this has nothing to do with a record label, and that someone simply uploaded it without any expectations. And look where it took them."

Sebastian looked at him, intrigued, understanding very little of what he was saying.

"Since you look confused, I'll explain a bit," Lewis continued. "It seems they uploaded this song, called Red, to YouTube," he hit play and started it again from the beginning, "It seems to be about a failed relationship, but no one knows who sings it or the story behind it."

"Does no one really know anything?" Seb asked, finding the situation strange.

Why was the voice only familiar to him? Could it be because it was Di's birthday, and everything reminded him of her more than usual?

"All we know is that the song is wonderful. I don't know who's behind it, but if they discover that girl, if it is a girl, and give her a chance, I'm sure she could achieve great things."

They decided to move further down the pit lane, exchanging a few words with others. Lewis kept talking about the song. Seb, however, couldn't stop analyzing the melody, the lyrics, the voice and, especially, the username. He sensed something hidden behind that combination of numbers, and now, the priority of getting some sleep before the first practice session had faded.

He tried all possible combinations, numbers from front to back, in pairs, trios, even quartets, but none seemed to fit. As the melody of Red resonated from Lewis's iPhone, Seb's mind kept probing, convinced that something about it was tied to Di.

Eventually, he thought he had the answer, recalling significant dates for them. If he divided the username into three segments, each with two pairs of numbers, the first one matched June 15, 2006: the day he had asked Di to be his girlfriend.

If that was true, the second pair corresponded to January 12, 2014. He wasn't dating Diana by then, but he knew her too well to be convinced that date must have been important to her if it was alongside their anniversary.

He wished he could know that meant to her.

"Are you listening to me?"

Remembering him comes in flashbacks and echoes Tell myself it's time now, gotta let go But moving on from him is impossible When I still see it all in my head In burning red

Seb ignored Hamilton after hearing, for the first time paying extremely attention, that bridge.

Somehow, the song described his feelings perfectly, and he didn't know why he felt that way. The truth is that he couldn't let go of Di, not when she had been, and still was, the love of his life.

He entered WhatsApp almost automatically and went into his ex's profile. She had no profile picture, but he knew perfectly well that it was her because her contact was still saved with the same name. Seb then quickly wrote to her that he knew it was her hiding behind the song and that somehow, he knew she was talking about him.

Vettel then saw Britta approaching them quickly. She was also engrossed in her phone, her fingers constantly moving over it. Seb didn't pay much attention to her because once he showed his desperation to Di, he moved on to conveying it to Hanna, trying to convince her to reveal that it was her best friend.

"Seb, we need to talk," Roeske hurried to say, almost out of breath, her gaze still fixed on her device.

"Britta, I can't right now, I'm sending..."

"Sebastian Vettel, this is serious."

When Britta yanked the phone from his hands and made eye contact with her, Sebastian assumed things didn't seem to be going very well. The moment she turned her gaze to Lewis and he walked away, patting him on the shoulder, he knew.

"What's wrong with you?" Seb asked, quite angry. "Why are you acting like a neurotic who seems to have lost a million euros on a ridiculous bet?"

"I don't want you to answer anything related to that song that went viral, Red . I'm telling you, Sebastian, don't you dare answer anything about that damned song."

And again, this was another sign that happened to make him feel like he hadn't gone crazy.

"Sebastian, trust me," Britta remained firm in her expression, crossing her arms. "I don't want you to get into trouble because the song was uploaded by..."

"Di."

Sebastian Vettel saw the answer in her eyes. He knew her ,and knew she longed to answer him and, at the same time, she didn't.

Britta Roeske knew that, but he also had the feeling she seemed to want to hide something.

Looking at her face and considering her not only as the person he trusted the most, bust as a second mother, Seb knew his PR was definitely hiding something from him.

"It's her the one singing, right?" he insisted, but she didn't answer. "Britta, please: tell me."

Seb was desperate, and it was more than obvious. A sigh and a few seconds filled with uncertainty preceded her response:

"If you already know, why do you ask me? You know the sunshine of your life, as you still call her, much better than I do. Of course, it's Diana," she finally revealed, lifting a great weight off his shoulders and, above all, making him believe he could have faith in the future.

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