Max
I feel someone placing kisses first on my face and then on my jaw and neck. I mutter under my breath, wanting to continue going to sleep. After a while, this person returns to kissing my lips, at which I smile lazily, knowing full well who it is. I reciprocate the kiss, hoping that the boy will give me a few more minutes of sleep.
"Charles..." I say in a hoarse voice as the boy moves away. "Come to my place, we still have plenty of time." I add, reluctantly opening my eyes.
The Ferrari driver is already dressed and looking at me with a wide smile. At least he of the two of us is happy, and I, not wanting to take that happiness away from him, put all my problems in my pocket and force myself to smile broadly.
"I'm taking you after my qualification for a break from everything. You need to forget." He states satisfied with his plan. "And when we come back, me and our friends will help you with everything."
I bite my lip, watching him. I don't deserve him. He is too good a man for me, and even though I know he should be with someone better, I don't want to let him go. I want him to be mine forever, even if we are not yet in a relationship.
"Will you go to breakfast with me?" he asks suddenly. "You need to eat something, come on." He adds as I cover myself with the quilt.
"After last night, is this how you repay me?" I ask reproachfully as he takes the quilt from me. Abashed, he looks away from me, which makes me smile. "Give me some clothes from the closet and I can go." I add, rising from the bed. I run my fingers through my hair to bring it into some sort of order, but suddenly Charles returns with the clothes and grabs my wrist.
"Leave it. You look perfect with hair like that." he says, handing me a set of sweatpants.
I sigh resignedly and quickly get dressed, after a while me and the Ferrari driver walk down to the dining room, where other drivers are already there. We get to Pierre, Carlos, Lando, Daniel, Checo and Yuki. Everyone greets us smiling. Only Perez looks confused. I ignore this, putting food on my plate from the plate of Daniel, who is sitting next to me. The boy looks at me with raised eyebrows.
"Does my plate look like a gutsy buffet to you?" he finally asks as I start eating.
"Yes," I reply contentedly, glancing at him. "Are you okay, Checo?" I ask finally, and everyone's gaze falls on the Red Bull driver.
"I... Yes, yes... Just... You know... The walls in this building are not thick enough for me not to hear what you do in the evening. And the person who moans your name half the night." tightens his lips into a thin line.
Charles begins to choke on the juice he just drank. I stare impassively at everyone, continuing to eat pancakes, because showing a reaction is the worst thing I can do. Daniel next door is looking in complete shock in my direction, Lando is trying to save Charles, who is choking on his juice, Carlos is scooping fries onto a fork, but the problem is that he's hitting the table with the fork, not the plate, and Yuki and Pierre stat themselves not to start laughing while looking at all of us. Checo looks embarrassed and all in all, it's a day like every day.
"I don't know what you're talking about." I finally say, breaking the silence. Charles next to me draws air into his mouth and sighs with relief. Lando wipes his sweaty forehead, stressed by Leclerc's tantrum, and tells Carlos quietly that he's not scooping food onto the fork.
"Maybe I misheard." whispers Perez finishing eating and almost running out of the dining room under the pretext of going to the toilet. After a while, Yuki leaves to go change, so a bunch of trusted idiots remain. Great.
Most of the drivers disperse after eating, and we continue to sit in silence, eating or drinking coffee. Suddenly Hamilton enters the room. I raise a puzzled eyebrow, glancing at Daniel, who also looks at me. Everyone seems surprised by this, even Charles. Lewis finds the Ferrari driver with his eyes and moves toward us. I measure him with a glance, feeling my muscles tense up.
Lando silently moves closer to Carlos as the atmosphere becomes tense. Daniel next to me grabs my arm so that I don't do anything stupid, and Pierre along with me kills the Mercedes driver with his eyes. Although he is one.
"Hey Charles, can we talk?" he asks with a smile, stepping in front of us. What the fuck kind of nerve does he have coming here after all this time?
"No." I overtake Leclerc with an answer. Everyone glances in my direction, and I continue to stare furiously at the idiot in front of me.
"I didn't ask you." He glances dismissively in my direction. "Please, it's just two sentences." the boy extends his hand toward my not yet boyfriend.
"Touch him and I'll kill you." I strain through clenched teeth. I see exactly how he hesitates and finally lowers his hand, giving up on touching Charles. "Now get the fuck out."
"Max, don't make a scene." Leclerc glances in my direction. He looks at me pleadingly, and I get even more nervous.
"I'll hold him, you break his nose." I hear Pierre's nervous voice. I lift the corners of my mouth up, hearing this.
"Pierre..." Charles begins.
"Come on, it's for one shot." I interrupt him.
"Max..." starts the Ferrari driver again.
"Max I'll pay you if you fuck him up. I can help you break his bones." he is again interrupted by Pierre.
Daniel grabs my arm when I want to get up. Carlos does the same to Pierre, who has already pushed back his chair, not taking his eyes off Lewis. I clench my fists, watching Charles get up.
"Don't you even dare." Gasly clenches his jaws, looking furiously at his friend, who ignores us without even looking at us. "If you do, I swear I'll walk out of here and take Max with me," he says.
My anger begins to flee, and is replaced by sadness as I see the boy walk up to Hamilton, who glances contentedly at my face. Did I choose a person who didn't get rid of his feelings for the previous one? Am I stuck in a terrible place with my feelings for the wrong man?
Suddenly Charles slaps Lewis' cheek with an open palm, who, surprised, takes a step back and touches the sore spot. Lando gasps for air, Carlos parries with a quiet laugh, and Daniel and Pierre part their lips in surprise. I feel a lot of emotions at once. I am angry, disappointed, surprised and confused.
"And this is my friend!" shouts Pierre suddenly.
"Did you think I wouldn't find out?" asks an angry Leclerc, ignoring his friend. He measures Hamilton with a furious gaze. "You texted Max from my phone, bitch." He adds angrily. I try not to smile as I see Lewis feeling foolish. "And just to make it clear, there's nothing between us anymore and there won't be, got it? Give me a break, don't call, don't write, don't even look in my direction. I don't want to know you." He jabs his index fingers into the Mercedes driver's chest.
"I'm better than him, Char." he says, wanting to put his hand on the brunet's cheek, but recalling my words and making sure I'm still looking at him, he abandons this plan.
"Sure, princess. And there were dragons in that fairy tale?" I snort, crossing my arms over my chest.
"Charles..." He ignores my words, looking pleadingly at the Ferrari driver.
"No." interrupts him firmly.
"Get the fuck out before I let him go." says Daniel suddenly, pretending to be angry. I glance at him with raised eyebrows. He holds my sleeve with two fingers, so I could easily get up. On top of that, he acts like I'm his defense dog, not his friend. "Kidding." He adds, seeing my face.
Lewis clenches his jaws and, saying something under his breath, leaves the dining room. Charles, without looking at us, also leaves after a while, walking in a different direction from Hamilton.
"Go." I hear Pierre's voice. I know it's to me, and I know how hard it is for him to say this, because he has always been the one next to his friend. I appreciate that he trusts me enough to let me be with him.
Without thinking, I leave the dining room, walking in the direction where Charles went. I finally spot him sitting on the couch in the corridor, staring at the extinguished phone screen. As I sit down next to him, he sighs, glancing in my direction, and goes back to staring at the turned-off phone again.
"Are you okay?" I ask quietly, placing my hand on his leg. He blissfully moves away, as if my touch steams him, and glances apologetically at my face after a moment.
"I don't want any more gossip." He translates quickly, and even though I understand it, something nevertheless sours in my heart. "Yes, it's fine." He adds, standing up.
"I beg you, don't do it." I say quickly, at which the confused man wrinkles his eyebrows.
"What are you talking about?"
"Don't ignore me like this." I explain, praying that he doesn't pounce on the subject. I hate it when someone ignores me because they're in a bad mood, and I know I'm being selfish because I do it myself.
"I'm not ignoring. I just need to be alone and think in silence." he explains, forcing a smile. I can see that he's not in the mood, so I'm not going to tire him out. I just nod and get up, walking towards the stairs. "Max." I hear his voice, but I pretend not to hear it.
I return the room only to grab my wallet, car keys and phone from him. Okay, I was kind of pounced on and rejected, but I'm not going to cry about it. I was like that for him too, so I'm the perfect person to understand him and know what will help him, or at least I hope so.
I drive to the store, where I spend almost twenty minutes, first thinking about what candy to choose, and then looking for the right lego. Who doesn't like legos? I decide on a set with a Ferrari car, and I know how weird I look buying it, as a Red Bull driver. At the checkout I immediately hide it in my bag, hoping no one saw it, and head back to the hotel as I pay for everything.
The way back takes me more time through traffic, but I finally reach him and walk up the stairs to the right floor. Without knocking, I grab the door handle, and it gives way to my surprise, allowing me to enter the dark room. Charles has closed the curtains across the room, and the only light is the TV playing. The boy lies curled up on the couch and covered with a blanket up to his nose. He watches the show without realizing that someone has come.
I put the commercial next to the couch and walk up to him, crouching in front of his face. He shrugs, shifting his frightened gaze to me. I lift the corners of my mouth up gently, but he does not reciprocate. He looks at me in silence, and I can see how fed up he is.
"Hey." I say quietly, running my fingers over his cheek, to which he closes his eyes. "You need to get up for qualification, Charles." I whisper, pushing back the brown strands of hair from his forehead.
"I can't make it, I feel bad." He mumbles, however, I get the feeling he's not telling me the truth.
"Remember how we talked about being honest with each other?" I ask quietly, not wanting him to get upset. I don't want to argue with him.
"I..." I can see that he is beating his thoughts, probably facing two choices and doesn't know which one will be better. "I've been suffering from insomnia for several months.... I take pills that help me, but not on race weekends, because they made me feel worse all day, which affected my performance. I don't sleep very well on days like this, but it's better than it used to be, when I could only get three hours of sleep for a whole week. No one knows about it, because they would kick me out of the team and..." he says quietly, looking at the wall.
"I won't tell anyone, honey." I lift his chin to look at my face. I don't know myself when we started calling each other that, instead of by our first names. We behave as if we are in a relationship, even though the boy continues not knowing how he feels about me and we are not together. "Should I talk to Carlos? I'll tell him to tell your team that you have a fever." I ask, to which he immediately nods, agreeing with me.
I stand up, taking the phone in my hand. I walk away from the couch so as not to obstruct his TV show anymore and enter the conversation with Carlos.
"Thank you, Max." I hear his weak voice behind me. In fact, it's worse with him.
"Anything for you." I answer with a smile and put the phone to my ear, waiting for Carlos to answer the phone. After two signals he does so. "Hey, I have a case," he says.
"I guess it concerns Charles." he says amused.
"Och... Yes." I scratch the back of my neck.
"Yeah?" he asks puzzled. Oh, a joke that predicted the future, wonderfully.
"Are you going to tell your team that you were and Charles and he won't be able to show up for qualifying today? He feels bad, but it's better to say he has a fever. I don't know, add anything to make it sound bad." I shrug my shoulders, although he doesn't see it.
"Yes, sure. But he is nothing serious? Just feeling bad?" I hear worry in his voice.
"Yes, nothing more. Thanks, Carlos."
"No problem, say hi to him." He hangs up, and I put the phone in my pocket and turn toward the boy, who is now sitting wrapped in a blanket and looking in my direction.
"I bought you something." I smile as he curiously glances at the commercial he just noticed.
Like a little kid, he moves closer to her and starts pulling out one by one all the candy, and at the very end the legos. Sparks appear in his eyes as he looks at the cardboard box from different sides.
"Will you help me put it together?" he asks hopefully, making room for me on the couch.
"Yes." I sit down next to him, putting my hand to his forehead to make sure he doesn't have a fever. "Are you sure you're okay? Do you want some medicine? I can go to the pharmacy." I look at him carefully. His skin is pale and his eyes are tired. "Or I'll call my doctor, he'll come here and..."
"Maxie..." He interrupts me, placing his hands on my cheeks. "It's just lack of sleep." He assures me, lifting the corners of his mouth up almost imperceptibly. "Everything is fine." he adds, taking his hands away as I nod and open the box.
We spend the whole day putting together lego sets. It turned out that the kit I had bought was not only expensive, it had an awfully big manual and a lot of folding. Several hours later, when we took a break for lunch, we weren't even halfway through.
Charles has fallen asleep with his head on my legs, so trying not to move, I'm already assembling the end of the car myself. When I'm done, I set it aside and glance at the sleeping Ferrari driver. I comb his hair, and he hugs me tighter. Maybe it's a false impression, but I think my presence helps him sleep. I wouldn't be angry at all if this were true. I would love to be next to him, to fall asleep as well as to wake up and see his face.
I take my phone in my hand and type insomnia into the Internet and read a lot of articles on the subject. I learn a lot of things I didn't know before. I thought that insomnia occurs only from this, you are not tired because you have other more interesting things to do, and then you get used to it and spoil your routine. It turns out that it's a thicker topic and insomnia can take even from grief, stress, problems and excessive thoughts. I want to help him with this, so I will certainly persuade him to visit the doctor again to talk about racing.