Chapter Text
Charles Leclerc:
I hate him to say the least.
The way his icy cold eyes glare at me during any interview. Of course he acts to soften his gaze when someone else is watching us.
But once the cameras are gone, his glare returns.
I too glare at him. Why would I back down.
Our rivalry started back in the early days of karting. My family has sacrificed a lot, including my brother who left racing for me to get into F1.
Max has his own demons in his mind and that's none of my business.
Although that's something else that he, himself looks like demon on the race tracks.
Ferrari has always been my dream car and team to drive for. These past few years weren't that great. Earning a pidum has been a challenge for as long as I know yet I'm dedicated to this car and team.
Max on the other hand has always got the best of best cars and engines ever. Red Bull has always provided him with a greater amount of attention and care for his career. Mostly because their own career depends on how well Max drives.
It's almost the middle of the year and we already have bumped and crashed into each other's cars an unhealthy amount of times.
The last race for example—
<<<
"The fuck is wrong with him?!" I yelled into the radio.
— "Careful, Charles, the checkered flag is almost there, we don't want you to lose it—"
"Well then fucking tell that demon infront of me!"
We both were eventually out of the race cause both of our cars' tired were punctured.
As soon as that race ended, I was met with an angry pair of eyes of the Dutchman. Never knew those can be so deadly to stare at.
"You have a death wish?!" Max growed through his teeth.
"You were the one to push me on the first hand—"
"You were deliberately closing my path to pass! Too scared of me getting the first place!"
His voice was rough and dry.
"Every driver here wants the first position, you douche bag—"
Before I could finish my sentence, I was pushed back as Max shoved me roughly with his hand on my chest.
I was almost about to stumble.
"Your engineer told you to let me pass! I had DRS!"
He practically yelled at my face. His voice was too loud, too rough, too deadly. It's not like I would back down, but I didn't want to cause a scene.
"But I'm the driver! My call is the final!" I said, not in a loud voice yet with a steady pitch.
Max clenched his jaw and fist. His knuckles has turned white, not to mention his icy glaze had turned dark and piercing.
Okay, now I was scared.
Max is know to have borderline personality of anger issues. I don't want to mess with his mental problems, nope.
I walked backwards.
This was happening way after the race had ended. Most of the people were out of the track and buildings.
I slowly shoved my right hand into my pocket and felt the side of my phone.
Max was advancing towards me in an extremely slowl and steady pace. As if waiting for the moment for me to run, so that he can chase me down, like a prey. Then beat the shit out of me.
He has never physically hit me. Not something I'm keen to try whatsoever.
"Whatever the reason is, you didn't have the right to crash into my car and cause a puncture!" his voice low and rough, loud enough for only me to listen.
I managed to unlock my phone in my pocket, quickly taking it out, I gave a quick glance at it and pressed the call option and held it behind me.
I didn't want him to know that I was calling my engineer cause I was now scared of him. I'd make myself like a joker to him.
"Listen Max, don't act like a child. You also could have slowed down, it's your fault—"
Before even I can blink, the Dutchman took a long and large step and stood infront of me. His icy blue eyes piercing through my light green ones.
My breath got stuck in my throat as I was locked into his glaring gaze.
"Are you trying to blame me for your crash?"
His voice was terrifyingly calm. I felt a sharp shiver ran down my spine. My knees were feeling weak now.
His jaws and fists were clenched tightly.
I opened my mouth to say something—
*BUZZZZZZ—*
My phone rang.
My engineer. My team—
I'm saved...
>>>
I don't want to encounter something like that again in my life.
I was sitting in my apartment, with a coffee mug in my hand. Although the race for this weekend was over, that thing happened between us, wasn't over from repeating itself constantly in my head.
"Bloody Dutchman!"
I settled the coffee mug in front of me as I opened my Instagram account.
Too many comments, too many tagged posts, too many mentions—
"Urgh..." I groaned as I laid back into my cosy couch.
The first thing that caught my attention was a post of me and Verstappen.
The title said: will this rivalry cost them their careers?
I clenched my jaw.
So far Max and I had only one podium. The reality was settling in me.
Cost the career.
A shiver ran down my spine.
I can't afford to lose my seat in F1. My brother is waiting in line to join the F1 teams. I can't let him down, not after what he did for me.
I scrolled further.
Another post, both me and the Dutchman were tagged.
Title:
A nasty clash, no podium for both the drivers.
I took a deep breath and sighed heavily. This isn't what I wanted in the first place. But of course, why would I sacrifice my first position to him?!
And why he can't be the one sacrificing for once? We both are of same age, not that he's way too much older than me, just a month maybe.
I sighed, scrolling further.
Another post. Both of us tagged, along with our car companies.
Title:
Their contract at the verge of being terminated!
I shut my phone screen. This is too much for me to take in at once.
I closed my eyes and tried to relax a bit. I still had 3 days before the next quali.
"I just need sleep..." I muttered to myself and adjusted my position into the couch further.
Piercing blue eyes.
I shifted and turned to my side.
Clenched jaw and tight fists—
I jolted up. I can't sleep. All I can see is the Dutchman's angry face.
And I honestly hate it! No one wants to see an angry man's face while they are trying to sleep.
I got up from the couch. I need some food.
Opening my fridge, I took out some leftovers from yesterday my chef cooked.
*BUZZZZZ—*
My phone rang. Keeping aside what I was doing I went to attend the call.
Nicolas.
"Yeah?"
—"Charles...?"
"Yeah!"
—"We...have a small problem...with..."
"...."
I'm waiting for him to say. My mind was completely blank. Brows crooked and neck muscles tensed.
"Go on..." I said.
—"With Red Bull."
I closed my eyes in frustration and sighed.
"What now?" I asked.
I heard Nicolas sigh lightly under his breath, very subtle.
—"Actually, both Ferrari and Red Bull team decided this...—"
"Decided what?" I asked, impatient.
—"Well, given the fact that from the past few races this season, both you and Max had only one podium... they want you and Max to..."
I was getting more and more impatient with each passing second. My heart was hammering against my rib cage as soon as I heard the Dutchman's name.
"Say it—"
—"You guys have to work on your interactions and behaviour with each other—"
"We are, Nicolas, we ain't kids—"
—" The FIA has noticed this and unfortunately they have deemed both of you as kids!"
I sighed heavily and gripped my phone case more tightly.
"You gotta be kidding me..."
—"Unfortunately, I am not, Charles."
There was a long string of silence. I was thinking about every encounter I had with the Dutchman. Every fight we had, every crash we had.
It couldn't have been avoided if I had backed down, which I would never in my life would consider to do!
This situation was getting on my nerves.
"What do you want?"
—"Not me, the FIA—"
"Whatever, what do they want?" my voice was impatient, breaths short.
I ran a hand through my already messy hair. I looked at the leftover that I was about to heat up and eat, but now I had no appetite.
—"To develope friendly relationship with Mr Verstappen.—"
"Wow wow wowww! Hang on! Friendly?"
I asked, almost in a mocking tone. This was ridiculous.
—"I'm afraid it is—"
"Dude this is Formula 1! Here your teammate is even your rival!"
—"And the FIA isn't asking you to marry Max Verstappen —"
My breath almost got punched out of my lungs at that comment.
—"Just friendly enough to be deemed in the FIA's eyes!"
Once again, silence engulfed the call. My brain has stopped functioning. The view from the last race flashed infront of my eyes.
That demon being friendly with me? Huh! Nice joke!
Nicolas took this as a queue to continue to talk.
—"Tomorrow, in the office! Red Bull, along with Max would be there. Don't be late Charles, please."
The call ended.
I put the phone on the table and fell onto the couch. My head was spinning.
This is going to be a long and frustrating week for sure.
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