I was so used to seeing you getting ready during a race weekend. I was so used to caressing your hair while you were sleeping. I was so used to watching you get wannabe angry when I mispronounced French words. I was so used to drawing you when you didn't pay attention to me. I would draw you during meetings or while you were casually eating your breakfast. Your hair was messy, and your lips bore a smile while you were making graceful moves with a spoon in your hand like it was a brush and the world was your canvas. I loved to draw you more than anything.
You were a reason why my world was colourful. You just came into my life and spilt all over it a cup full of colours. I might not appreciate it at first, but trust me, it changed so quickly. My world was colourful because of your I love you in the mornings. It was colourful because of your singing while you were in the shower. It was colourful because of your smile and because of you saying sweet French things that I could never understand. I remember one day you told me that I didn't have to understand those words, I just had to feel them, and I did. I felt them in my blood, veins, and heart.
I was so proud of you when you made it into the Red Bull. You were there, at the top of your game, with the most talented boys in the world. You were one of them, and trust me, you fitted perfectly. You belonged there. You were always a hard worker, but at that time, you worked even more. At one point, I saw you more in my paintings than in real life, but I knew the drill. But still, our life was colourful. It was because you brought me a bouquet of flowers whenever you came back after the race weekend. It was because of our FaceTimes on Saturday evenings. It was because of our car rides at 4am.
But then you got demoted back to Toro Rosso, and the colours started to fade. I could see how hurtful and humiliated you felt. I despised them because you belonged to the Red Bull. You should've been there. We tried to maintain the colours of our world, but it was hard. You wanted to prove them wrong. I wanted you to prove them wrong, but that changed you. You were always determined. I never doubted that. At first, I thought that what you were doing was good, but then I realised it was unhealthy. You created for yourself a lifestyle that couldn't be maintained. I knew you were doing it because you had that tiny little voice in the back of your head that told you, you weren't good enough. I wanted to change that, but then Anthoine passed away.
The colours were gone, and you were gone as well. You were so unhappy and hurt. I could feel the agony in your body, and I could feel the pain. I started to notice little things. I saw how your hands were shaking when you were about to get into the car. I noticed that you began to have nightmares, and I realised that you had started to be colder towards me. All you cared about was racing.
It hurt me too. I couldn't even count how many pictures of Anthoine I had drawn. I wanted him to come back. I hoped that he would appear out of nowhere behind the corner and ask me about my drawings. He always wanted to see them. I remember always saying no to him. Eventually, I showed him a few pictures, but now I would show him everything. He was my friend as much as he was yours. I had a feeling that I lost both of you because of your behaviour.
I saw you sitting in our kitchen with breakfast and a phone in your hand. The food in front of you was intact, and all your attention was on the phone. I could feel tears in my eyes when I noticed that you were going through the photos with Anthoine. You missed him desperately.
"Oh, Pierre." I didn't hesitate to wrap my arms around you. It was some time since we hugged the last time because you refused physical contact from anyone. I could feel how your whole body tensed. I understood that you were doing that because you wanted to scare people away.
"Shhh... It's going to be alright. It's okay." I was caressing your hair while you were sobbing. "Let me help you. Let me help you, love," I begged you.
"I know it feels like it hurts too much, but I promise, it will again be okay. I know it feels like this pain won't end, but I promise you, your scars will fade. I know it feels like you're too stuck, but I promise, the only constant is a change. I know it feels like the rain won't pass, but I promise you, the sun will soon break, and I know it feels like there's no hope, but I promise you, you will see a brighter day. You have my pinky promise," I said while offering you my pinky. You grabbed my pinky with yours, and the promise was sealed. I knew that this time it had to be me who had to bring colours back to our world.
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