LOVE OR RIDE | LESTAPPEN

chapter fifteen - dark blue promises

"I feel like I'm disabled." I sigh as Pierre zips up my sweatshirt. I have no way to do anything myself, which makes it necessary for my friend to be next door twenty-four hours a day. He is currently living with me and I am truly grateful for all of this. I still have my hands in gel bandages. I'm not supposed to take it off until next week, and that's when the talks about my return to Formula will start.

I spoke to the team, who assured me that they will wait for my return and that they do not intend to replace me. I won't say that I didn't, because it calmed me down a lot and additionally made me feel even more, like an idiot. I've apologized to my family and friends, and I can't apologize to him, because I'm afraid of the rejection I gave him twice.

"Don't exaggerate." Pierre rolls his eyes.

Since that day, he has continued to treat me colder than ever, but I deserve it. He said he's my friend and will be by my side, but he's angry that I'm acting like a child and ignoring problems instead of solving them. And well... He is right.

"Everyone will look at me." I remind myself resignedly. Today is the race, and I decided to show up at the track to cheer on the team. Of course, I know that these are just excuses. I want to actually have a chance to talk to this one driver, but I don't know if I'll dare to approach.

"They will, but you like it. You are a star." He winks at me, walking toward the door.

I roll my eyes, following him. Maybe he's a little right...

We leave the hotel and walk to the car. I miss nothing so much as driving. Even this car I drive on the streets. It's all so annoying.

"Hey, can we spend some other time first?" I suggest.

"Hm..." the boy glances at his watch. "No, because I'll be late." He shrugs his shoulders and drives out of the parking lot.

I stare resignedly at the sights beyond the glass, trying not to pay attention to the pain in my stomach, heavy breathing and accelerated heartbeat. I'm scared as hell of going back there. Everyone's eyes will be in my direction. That's awful! Still, if it were on a day when I'm driving and not walking, like a moron, it would be ok.

Pierre stands in the parking lot, and I look in horror at the mass of fans shouting in our direction, waving. They have phones, they take pictures, they record, they have banners at the pictures. It's my fans who were worried, and I'm afraid to get out of the car. What a moron I am....

"Ready?" he asks, and when I want to deny it already, he gets out of the car. "Come on."

I curse under my breath when he closes the door and wait for him to open from my side, because I still can't do anything myself, it's annoying. When he does, I get out of the car and smile at the people who are happy to see me. They wave, shout, profess their love and ask for pictures. All the stress, reluctance and fear goes away when I see people greeting me so warmly. How could I be so bad at this meeting?

I wave to them, following my friend toward the garages. Every now and then I'm greeted by someone who comes up to wish me well and asks how I'm doing. That's nice of them. I say goodbye to Pierre, who goes to get ready for the race, and walk toward the Ferrari garage. I'm replaced by the young, damn talented Oliver, who deserves a place in Formula One. He is doing everything perfectly and I believe he will be here in the future. I'm no longer afraid for my seat, because I recently renewed my contract and now I can recover in peace.

Suddenly, I spot Verstappen in the distance. I stop, unconsciously holding the air in my lungs. I watch as the boy explains something to a teammate, helmet in hand. Checo listens attentively, answering every now and then, and they walk toward the track. Fortunately, they don't notice me. Yes, I was going to talk to him and apologize, but I have concerns. I don't know if this is something I should be doing. I don't know how to explain it. I just feel that maybe we reconciled too quickly, and he is not a person I will get along well with. I have further doubts. Maybe it's better to avoid each other? Pretend we don't know each other at all?

"Charles!" I hear Carlos' voice.

I turn toward him with a smile and before I can say anything, he hugs me carefully.

"How do you feel?" he asks, pulling away.

"Better, maybe I'll be back in Formula soon." I say contentedly. The boy already wants to say something, but the mechanics do not give him this opportunity. They call out to him, and he apologetically runs toward them.

I feel strange being here and not being able to go racing. I am now a fan, not a driver who can only watch and cheer. Great.

I enter the garage, greeting everyone. They all ask something, so I apologize to them, promising to talk after the race, because now I have to go. They agree, and I feel bad about lying, but I need a moment of solitude.

I enter my driver's room, looking around. Everything looks the same as it did the other day. No one came in, which is damn nice of them. They respect my privacy.

Suddenly I notice a dark blue envelope on the bed. As I get closer, I notice the writing on it in white marker. Max.

I swallow my saliva, looking around. I don't know how much it has been lying here, but it definitely wasn't there the last time I was here. I pick it up carefully, feeling curiosity mixed with fear. I tentatively open it, taking out a few developed photos, some printed screenshots and some sheets of paper with text inside. I put everything in front of me on the bed, looking in complete shock at it all.

He kept his promise.

Max Verstappen, whom I treated like crap, kept his promise and helped me find the person who spread the rumors. In front of me lie photos of a man who was once locked up for attempted theft. He wanted to rob Carlos. I remember him because I was next to him at the time and saw him shouting that we would regret what we were doing. In addition, there are screenshots of this guy's conversations with some people he hired. He paid them money to find out more about the rumors of my affair with some driver. What a bastard. I clench my jaws and move my gaze to the last pages, which are from the court and the police. The man was arrested, and I am to appear in court in a week. Oh God...

I sit down on the bed, looking dully in front of me. I don't think I have any more doubts, and my current goal in this race is to talk to Max. I want to regain what I lost when I acted like an asshole with an inflated ego who couldn't put someone else's feelings above his own.