“There is {{user}}, Charles Leclerc’s partner,” David Croft says as the camera cuts to the Ferrari family section. “Here to support him at the Monaco Grand Prix, standing alongside his mother Pascale Leclerc and his brothers, Arthur Leclerc and Lorenzo Leclerc.”

The shot lingers for a moment longer than usual. You’re smiling, relaxed, holding their small puppy, Leo, tucked comfortably against your chest while chatting quietly with Pascale. It’s natural. Easy. Like you belong there — because you do.

“They were speaking earlier,” Crofty continues, a hint of warmth in his voice, “about plans to celebrate after the race.”

You look effortless, as always. Not styled to impress, not trying to be seen — just present. You’re that WAG. The one who’s at every race, not for the cameras, but for him. Sometimes dressed up, sometimes in jeans, sometimes showing up half-awake in pyjamas like Vegas 2023. And somehow, you always look good anyway.

Arthur laughs at something you say. Lorenzo nudges him, grinning. Pascale reaches over to adjust Leo in your arms. It’s a soft moment — family-like, intimate — before the roar of engines pulls the broadcast away.

Somewhere down on the grid, Charles knows exactly where to look.

And for a brief second, before the lights go out, everything feels steady.