Chapter Text
December 2028 – Lihue, Hawaii
On the edge of a beautifully kept beach in a mid-sized, well-maintained hotel sat a quiet, simple office tucked behind the reception desk. In the office were two antique wooden desks pressed against opposite walls, one with a placard reading guest relations and another with a placard reading international guest relations and planning. It was nearing eleven o’clock at night and only one desk was occupied, international guest relations and planning.
At the desk Pierre Gasly sat typing away at the computer in a desperate bid to keep busy while he waited for his final call of the evening. He knew if he stopped for too long, he would be enveloped with thoughts about how his life had come to this. From a Formula 1 driver to a guest relations manager at a Hawaiian hotel in six short years. He was spared from his thoughts by the ringing of his phone.
“Thank you for call Haven Gardens Hotel, this is John, how may I help you today?” Pierre said the very rehearsed phrase into the phone.
“Hi John, it’s Kelly again. I just want to double-check that everything is all booked for my husband’s retirement celebration. Everyone’s rooms are booked, the restaurant is reserved for those two nights, and we will have three cabanas on the beach for both weeks, right?”
“Yes Mrs. Verstappen, we have all twenty rooms booked from December twentieth through January third, the restaurant is reserved for the night of the twenty-fourth and the night of the thirty-first, and we have set aside three of our deluxe cabana accommodations for the use of anyone in your party throughout the duration of your stay.” Pierre said, pulling up the information on the computer to verify as he answered her.
“Oh John, you are just the best. I cannot wait to meet the man who has made planning this trip so much easier than I thought it be.” Kelly gushed over the phone.
As she spoke Pierre froze, when the call for this reservation had come in a little over a year ago, he had nearly panicked at the thought of so many Formula 1 drivers staying at his place of work. Pierre had been so panicked the hotel owners had wanted to refuse the reservations for his sake. But he could not cost them this opportunity, it could mean so much to their business and, while business was not lacking now, refusing a party for people with such celebrated status could have a negative impact on them. As a compromise they agreed that Pierre would take the weeks of the reservation off as vacation time.
“My apologies ma’am, but I will be taking my own vacation during those two weeks. I am planning to spend the holidays with my son and my family.” Pierre said calmly.
Kelly made a noise of soft disapproval. “I wanted to meet you though. You have been so helpful and sweet. And you got everyone to get their room reservations in order, which is a feat with some of these drivers and former drivers. I wanted to thank you in person. But I get it, those precious moments with your child are so important.”
Pierre smiled softly as he thought of his son. “They really are. And I am sorry we will not get to meet in person, but we will speak one more time next week, the day before you come in, to finalize all the last little details.”
“Absolutely, I look forward to it. Thank you again. Have a good morning, or is it night there? Well, whatever it is, have a good one!” Kelly said with a cheerful laugh.
“And you as well Mrs. Verstappen.” Pierre said, waiting for the click to signal that she had hung up to close out the call.
Once the call was finished and some minor detail changes were made on a few other reservations it was finally eleven o’clock. Pierre logged out of the computer and shut it down for the night. He slowly packed his water bottle, a few folders of work he needed to review later, and his lunch box into his backpack. After everything was safely packed away, he shut the lights off in the office and closed the door behind him.
At the front desk was one of the overnight staff, Damon. He was the definition of tall, dark, and handsome. He was a 6’4 wall of tattooed muscle with short, dark hair, and a well-maintained beard. He was a sweet, quiet guy who like the later shift because he could pick his daughters up from school and spend time with them in the afternoons. Damon had told Pierre all about them when he had asked about the most prominent of his tattoos, three red roses that popped against his darker skin tone.
“Night Damon. Should be a decent night, mostly couples right now.” Pierre said as he passed by.
Damon chuckled softly, “Good, I could use a night of mostly couples, especially after that bachelorette party last week.” He shuddered at the memory.
Pierre laughed too. “I heard about that. The police came how many times?”
“Three, it was a nightmare.” Damon laughed again at the memory, even if it wasn’t so funny in the moment. “Now you go home to your boy. I’m sure you’ve been here long enough. Have a good night.”
“You too, and nice day with your girls tomorrow.” Pierre said with a little wave as he started walking to the front of the building.
“I always do!” Damon yelled after him laughing.
Pierre laughed to himself as he walked out of the hotel and into the parking lot. He sighed to himself as he climbed into his sensible Subaru Forester, remembering a time when this kind of car would never have even crossed his mind to buy. But as he looked into the back seat at the car seat that sits behind the passenger side, he is reminded why this car is best for him now.
As he drove home, Pierre cranked the music to drown out the thoughts that would otherwise consume him. It had not been this hard to put Formula 1 and the racing world behind him for the last four years, but ever since this reservation started drawing closer Pierre began to fall deeper into his thoughts and all of the possible scenarios that could have taken place. But this was where he was now, a single father to a five, almost six, year old boy who worked in hotel guest relations.
Before Pierre could truly begin to spiral, he pulled into the parking lot of his apartment complex. He quickly got out of his car, grabbing his backpack before locking it. He walked up to the second floor and slipped his key into the lock, opening the door as quietly as he could.
On the couch watching TV was an eighteen-year-old, Native Hawaiian girl. She turned to look at him smiling, her light brown hair swinging behind her shoulder. “Hey, you’re back already.” She whispered, standing up.
“Yeah. Thank you so much for watching him Kiki. I know this is probably the last thing you want to be doing on your winter break.” Pierre said, fishing out his wallet to grab some money for her.
She waved her hand at him in a playful dismissing gesture. “We do what we have to for family, you know how it works.”
“It was still so last minute.”
“No worries, I love hanging out with that little guy. Any time my brother isn’t available let me know. I’ll always help out.” Kiki began grabbing her things from around the room, her sweatshirt, her purse, and her shoes.
“Jay said he’ll try to make sure he knows when competitions end so he doesn’t have to change flights again.” Pierre laughs softly, trying to hand Kiki the money.
She waved him off again. “Don’t worry about it man.”
“Take it. It really was such short notice and I feel bad that you lost your whole night.” He tried handing the money to her again.
Kiki dodged his hand. “Do you pay my brother to watch the little man?”
“No, but only because he won’t take the money I offer.” Pierre defended.
“Then I’m not taking it either. We’re pretty much family, 'ohana man.” Kiki said playfully.
“But he’s also not a broke college student who might want some disposable income for the new semester, now is he?” Pierre waved the money at her again, temptingly.
Kiki thought for half a second and took the money from him. “Fine, but I’m only taking this as you contributing to my college expenses, not for babysitting.”
Pierre held back a laugh. “Whatever you need to tell yourself.”
Kiki held back a laugh as well, shaking her head. “Well, I’m gonna head for home.” She said, pulling out her car keys from her purse.
“Thank you again for watching him.” Pierre said walking her the short distance to the door.
“Any time.” Kik opened the door. “Have a nice night, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“You too and say hi to your brother for me when he gets home.” Pierre said as she walked down the hallway.
She raised her hand in acknowledgement. “Will do.” She said before opening the door to the stairwell and going to the parking lot.
After she had left the floor, Pierre closed the door, locked and deadbolted it. He started turning off the television and the lights in the kitchen and living room area before walking into the hallway. The hallway was very short with three doors crammed close together, one on each of the three ways.
Pierre turned into the first plain brown door on the left, his bedroom. He dug through his drawers to grab sleep pants and a soft white t-shirt. He then walked to the door straight across from his bedroom, and into the plain brown door of the bathroom. In the bathroom Pierre completed his nightly routine and changed into his pajamas.
Once ready for bed Pierre stopped at the door in the center of the hallway. It was brown like the other two doors, but this one was decorated with a child’s drawings ranging from creative ideas like a robot-fish war to the more realistic scenes of the beach or surfing. Pierre pushed the door open as slowly and as quietly as he could.
The inside of this room was illuminated slightly by the palm tree nightlight plugged into the wall across from the door at the foot of a twin-sized bed. In the bed slept Pierre’s five-year-old son. Pierre crept into the room and sat gently on the bed near his son’s head.
He looked so peaceful in sleep. Pierre reached out to softly trace his nose with his finger. Sometimes it hurt Pierre’s heart to look at his son and see his other father written all over his face, in his nose, and his eyes. People always said how alike he and his son looked, their jaw structure, their mouths, their ears. But all Pierre saw when he looked at his son was a memory, Charles.
Pierre ran a finger through his son’s shaggy blond hair and leaned down to kiss him on the top of the head. As he did the little boy stirred slowly.
“Papa?” He muttered sleepily.
“Yes, Océan.” Pierre said, brushing his son’s hair some more.
The little boy smiled, turning to push his face into his father’s stomach. “I’m glad you're home.” It came out muffled because he had pressed into his father more tightly.
“Me too, mon petit rayon de soleil.” Pierre whispered, curling into an awkward hug with his child.
After the hug, he lifted the little boy to tuck him back into bed properly, but Océan grabbed his hand. “Papa, sleep here now.” He pouted and gently tugged Pierre’s arm.
Pierre rolled his eyes fondly but relented quite quickly. He slipped into the small bed beside his son. “Only until you fall asleep.” He whispered.
Océan plopped his head on his father’s chest with a small happy noise, closing his eyes almost immediately. Pierre resumed running his fingers through his son’s hair.
The spiraling voices were finally quiet as he held his son close. Because he couldn’t think of what ifs or where he would be in Formula 1 if stuck with it when his son was in his arms. This was his reason for leaving, this is why his whole life changed, and he would not change one moment if it meant losing his son.
As Pierre let go of all of the thoughts of the day, he couldn’t help but remember how he felt finding out about Océan and the moment that changed his life forever. He let himself be lulled into sleep with the memories of six years ago. Falling asleep with the most important thing he took away from Formula 1.