Same but... different (Lestappen and Carlando)

Chapter 7

POV: Max

The interviews are so long and useless, God. I try to stay polite and respectful while answering as shortly as possible, needing to make sure of something. As soon as the last one ends, I take the trophy and go straight back in the garage to take a shower and check my phone. I can see a message pop up and the name on the screen instantly makes my heart jump, as I receive the most important congratulation of them all.

He lost, couldn't even compete and still took the time to congratulate me... And even kept his invite for me to play with him, even though I can imagine he's not really feeling it anymore. I know he's probably sad and maybe even angry because of today, and a powerful desire of cheering him up suddenly burns in me, making me decide that I'll go and see him tomorrow as soon as possible.

It's obvious I wouldn't be welcomed if I tried today, but I'm determined on proving him that he deserved this win as much as I did, and maybe... Maybe we could discuss whatever was going on between us, too. I mean, as much as it is scaring me, I always knew that one day I'll have to be honest with myself on what I feel.

Suddenly, as if I've summoned 'him' thinking about myself, I receive a call of... my father. I don't like calling him dad, as we're not really close anyway. I take a deep breath and answer, guessing that he's going to congratulate me too.

— You got lucky today Max, are the first words I hear, and I suddenly feel like crying, not even knowing why, so suddenly.

— Hello to you too, father! I say in a sarcastic tone. For sure it went well, no mistakes from my team and I, yeah.

And we continue discussing the race for a bit, before him hanging up on me because he is suddenly "busy" doing God knows why. Great.

I start thinking about how I want to spend that victorious Sunday evening, and the only thing coming to my mind is Charles. Yeah... But no. Surely I can spend half a day without him, right? Like, what was I even doing before, going to bars and clubs? Sounds like a sensible plan yep. I could maybe even find someone to flirt with, and let out some of that tension in me, because that's what's been torturing my body every time I remember the spicy call with the Monégasque.

I proceed to change myself after a long, needed shower, letting the water drip on my body. The heat is almost too much and I can feel my sensitive skin burn from it, finding a strange relief in this situation. I get ready and take my best car, heading out to the club.

From then, I can't remember exactly what happened, but I just know I messed up big time, for sure. And now the situation couldn't be worse. Let me explain:

As I start the night with some light beverage, the alcohol finds its way more and more in my drinks, resulting in me being completely drunk, on the dance floor. Some of the drivers are there too, especially Danny and Lando, who love partying twice as much as everyone on the grid. But there is someone else... Leclerc. You're probably thinking, "oh, is Charles there?" well that's also what I thought when I heard his angelical voice from behind me, congratulating me for the race. 

Still not knowing the real identity of the person behind me, I continue dancing, my mind floating in a drunk cloud. But when I feel two hands on me, a chest suddenly touching my back, I feel something so intense electrifying my senses. I know it's wrong, we are in public, there isn't a worst place for that. But I continue dancing, grinding ever so slightly on the person behind me.

As the songs follow one another, I feel myself becoming more greedy, almost desperate for anything. I mean, I could probably have him as a gift for my win?

But when I turn around and finally realise that the very cute and hot man behind me is not Charles but his brother, Arthur, a giant wave of guilt rushes through me, leaving me gasping for air. This didn't just happen, this is just a terrible and way too vivid dream, right? Tell me I didn't confuse the Monégasque brothers, and in the public eye?