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When the season ended, so did his last race for Red Bull and, perhaps, in Formula 1.
It was a great time, with its ups and downs. He had eight championship titles and many podiums to his name, and he had practically pulled the team up from its knees.
However, the management saw it differently and "asked" him to leave, believing that he had too much power.
He'd never had a good relationship with Helmut as far as he could remember, but he didn't think he'd be able to advise him to get rid of him, even with their differences.
Even at the beginning of the season, he started to feel something, the work didn't bring him the same pleasure as before, the joy of the podiums was replaced by indifference. Every second or third place, he thought they could do better. He could do better. He was solely responsible for the so-called loss, so it was his fault that Max didn't win.
In the middle of the season, he began to distance himself from the team, stopped attending the holidays and became more and more self-contained.
Delays at work have become natural. And his arrival at the office even before the first rays of the sun ceased to surprise after several occasions.
At home, alone, the feelings became stronger. The silence and the walls were oppressive, leading to more and more painful thoughts, and insomnia became a regular visitor at night, with some days where he couldn't sleep at all.
By the end of the season, the team began to notice something. He could hear the whispers and see the concerned looks as he passed by.
Perhaps he did look unwell at the time, with dark circles under his eyes, a pale complexion, and his clothes fitting him loosely due to his weight loss.
Someone even tried to come up and talk to him. Max was one of the first, but that's not surprising, he was always attentive, noticing everything about people, although it was understandable with a father like that. Although he said it was okay, Max wasn't stupid, he understood everything, but he decided not to push it.
After the season ended, after Abu Dhabi, he left, quietly, unnoticed. Over the next couple of days, there were many messages: from Max, from the team, even from Gunter. But what struck him the most was a message from Toto Wolff himself.
Their correspondence was not active: only work and sometimes something personal, the last messages were on the day it was known about his departure. For some reason, they still make him smile.
"I didn't know what to say, because on the one hand, you were a real asshole. But on the other hand, the sport will miss one of its main actors. Who should I fight now? Love hate, as you always say? Wolf and Horner have a combined total of 14 of the last 15 world championship titles. That's not bad."
"I've enjoyed fighting you all these years. So thank you for the rivalry, competition, and teasing. No one else has come close, as the numbers show. I wish you all the best in the future. P.S. You need a haircut."
Their mutual banter was probably the best part. It was the only thing that kept him going, making him laugh and feel alive. After 2021, they managed to return to their previous communication, which was certainly not easy.
Toto was somehow interested in how he was. It was strange, they were not friends, not so long ago they could be called enemies.
Yes, perhaps Chris wanted to change something in their relationship, but he could not. Toto wouldn't have accepted it, and he knew it. So he ignored the message and the few that followed.
Horner was drowning. It had started a long time ago, but now the water seemed to be seeping into his lungs, choking him, preventing him from breathing properly. But he deserved it.
He used to rely on his work, the people there, and Toto, but now he was alone, and it was his own fault.
A sudden knock on the door interrupted him. Christopher didn't open the door, why would he? But then there was a more insistent knock and a voice, a voice he would recognize anywhere.
"Horner, open the damn door or I'll do it myself!"
And Christopher had no choice but to comply. The locks gave way, and there he was, the head of the Mercedes team.
His face was a mix of anger, fear, and relief.
– What are you doing here?
– Why don't you answer anyone?! What happened to you, Horner?
His irritation began to grow.
– I'm fine, if that's all your questions, then I've answered them, now get out of here!
He was about to slam the door, but a strong hand stopped it halfway.
"No, wait, I'm sorry. Listen to me."
After a few seconds of thought, he decided to speak.
"Christopher, what's really going on with you? Do you think no one notices? Do you think I don't see how you've changed? Don't make me feel like an idiot, because I can see it, no matter how hard you try to hide it."
His eyes were fixed on the floor, and his chest was heavy with each word, and his breathing was short, but he continued to listen.
– You've become distant, like a ghost, and only a fool wouldn't notice how much you've lost weight!
– No, go away! Please, just leave!
He couldn't listen to this, not now, not ever. Not from him. It shouldn't be this noticeable.
Christopher tried to slam the door shut again, but Toto wouldn't let him.
– Let me help you! I can see something's wrong!
– No, no, no, go away, go away, I don't need help! I'm fine.
The words were spoken in a rambling whisper, and his head was shaking from side to side.
A single tear rolled down his cheek, followed by another and another.
Christopher had drowned. But fortunately, there was someone by his side who was ready to save him, pull him out, and heal him.
Upon witnessing this, Toto froze in realization for a moment. His heart was broken. He had been doing nothing, not even trying, for so long. Although he had seen everything, he had hoped that Christopher would be able to rescue himself. It was only Max's message that he hadn't been responding to anyone for a long time that frightened him, and he made a decision.
And now he was holding the man he loved in his arms, who was falling apart and could only watch.
Christopher clung to him like the last straw that connected him to the world, and he just cried, whispering something.
Toto held him even tighter.
After a while, he calmed down and his muscles relaxed.
– Christopher, do you want me to take you to bed? You need to sleep.
After receiving a slight nod, they started walking. Toto had been here a couple of times, so he knew the general layout of the rooms and everything else.
When they reached the bedroom, he placed him on the bed and was about to leave for the living room when he was stopped by a hand on his wrist.
– Wait.. Don't leave, please...
There was a plea in his voice and... Fear? The man climbed onto the bed, and Christopher didn't hesitate to lie down on top of him and fall asleep.
In the morning, Horner felt more rested than he had in a long time.
It wasn't until later that he realized he was lying on someone, and when he looked up, he was shocked. The events of the previous day came crashing back. A wave of shame washed over him. But, determined not to waste those precious hours with him, he pushed it aside and snuggled even closer, falling asleep with a slight smile.