Chapter Text
From as early as nursery school, Max had understood that he was different. He watched the other children leap from their parents' arms toward their playmates, playing together, shouting.
Not Max.
Max struggled to leave his mom behind. He loathed descending from her embrace without knowing when he would see her again. And the children did not play with Max, or rather, Max did not approach the other children. His teacher assured him that the others would love to play with him; perhaps she was right, but Max was too afraid. He preferred a thousand times over to sit and draw beside the teacher rather than join the frantic commotion of the other children.
One day, Max was drawing a car, attempting to color it red without straying past the lines, when a boy came to sit beside him. Max did not see him at first. He only noticed his presence when the boy leaned toward him and asked what he was doing, his eyes wide with curiosity. Max started violently, dragging a long crayon mark across the page. Immediately, his eyes clouded with tears and his lip began to tremble. His drawing was utterly ruined. The boy beside him panicked and tried to console him, but Max would not even turn his head. It was only when a toy car —exactly like the one he had been drawing—appeared before his eyes that he finally looked.
- Here. It’s for you, the little boy exclaimed, waving the car. I didn't mean to scare you. I'm sorry.
Max did not answer immediately. He glanced at the car, then at the boy, and back at the car again. His tears had stopped falling, though the tracks were still visible on his cheeks.
- For me ? he whispered.
The boy nodded vigorously and took Max's hand to deposit the small car. Max looked closer. It was exactly the same as the one in his drawing. His large blue eyes settled on the boy with an inquisitive look. The boy returned his gaze with a smile.
- I’m Alex. What’s your name ?
- Max, the blonde boy replied, clutching the car against his chest.
- Can I draw with you ? Alex asked, and Max nodded in response, shifting over to make room.
Alex quickly became his best friend. He was also his only friend, but Max did not mind. Alex was kind, funny, and he seemed to cherish Max as much as Max cherished him. It was Alex who helped Max learn to read, and in exchange, Max always brought two snacks that he had made himself with his mom to thank him. The early years of school passed quickly with Alex by his side.
At the start of secondary school, Max and Alex were unfortunately separated. Alex immediately promised Max he wouldn't abandon him and that they would eat together every lunch... and he kept his word. For his part, Max found it difficult to integrate. He was too timid to approach the people in his class, and even if they did him no harm, he lamented his solitude. He, too, wished he had someone to turn to when teachers asked for partners. Finding Alex again was the greatest joy of his day.
Then, Alex made friends.
Of course, Max did not expect Alex to do as he did and keep away from others. Alex wasn't like that ; he was naturally drawn to people. That was how he befriended George, who then introduced him to his own circle. When Max saw them chatting together before heading to class, he felt a surge of fear. Fear that Alex would leave him behind, that he would find himself alone once more. But Alex was kind, and he made it clear to George that he would only join their group if Max were part of it. Naturally, George had accepted before even meeting Max, convinced that Alex's friend could only be a good person. He had not been wrong ; though Max had been wary for a long time, he had always remained remarkably kind and selfless.
As for Max, this encounter with Alex's new friends changed the course of his life. There were four of them, sitting at a picnic table, laughing uproariously. Alex called out to them as he walked over, Max at his side. Four faces turned toward them, but Max saw only one. He was perched on the table, a small boy with curly hair just in front of him ; his smile was wide, his eyes bright with laughter, and above all, he radiated a natural confidence. Max did not look away until they reached the table, where the other boy's charm so overwhelmed him that he anchored his gaze to the ground.
Alex, in his usual benevolence, performed the introductions. It was thanks to him that Max learned the other boy's name : Charles. He would never have dared to ask himself. He hadn't even looked up, behaving with an impoliteness that was foreign to him. Tears might have pricked his eyes at the group's surprised silence after he failed to answer them. But they were Alex's friends, and Alex was a good person. No one held his shyness against him. On the contrary, as months bled into seasons, Alex's friends became his own, and his lack of social grace was never a problem for them. They spoke enough to fill his silence, that was what Lando had said one day. Max had laughed at that, showing them his beautiful smile for the first time. From then on, the boys were utterly fond of him and dragged him everywhere with them.
But Max had never been able to speak to Charles. He was too shy, too terrified of making a fool of himself or letting his crush show. His behavior was so different around Charles that everyone eventually asked the same question : did Max have a problem with Charles ? Charles himself, wounded by this constant rejection, finally confronted him.
It was the first time Max saw Charles lose the effortless poise he always wore. His green eyes looked at Max with such sincerity, such vulnerability, that Max was left almost speechless. And then, suddenly, all the words wanted to rush out at once, and Max was so panicked that he burst into tears, much to the dismay of their little team. Carlos comforted Charles, who felt guilty for putting Max in such a state, while Alex tried to calm his best friend.
The words escaped before Max even realized it :
- I don’t hate Charles, I swear... He’s so kind, a-and beautiful, and—
And just like that, Alex understood, and George, right beside him, smiled knowingly.
Max didn't hate Charles.
He was in love with him.
The years rolled by ; high school followed middle school. The six friends were never far from one another. Max had miraculously always been in the same class as one of them, much to his relief. The first year it was Alex, then Lando, and so on. Never, however, was he placed with Charles. Instead, he learned Charles's schedule by heart : what time he could cross paths with him, which teachers they shared, which days they could eat together... Max was addicted, but he was still Max : too shy to dare more than simply admiring from afar, from behind a locker, or at the foot of a staircase.
Charles and his lovely smile. Charles and his hair that was always a little too long, tickling his eyelids. Charles and his kindness.
Charles.
Just Charles.
Then came the final day of high school. None of them wanted to spend their last night as students in the company of strangers. Instead, they all agreed to celebrate the six of them together. George offered to pick up Alex in his brand-new car since they lived in the same neighborhood, while Carlos and Lando would obviously find a way to appear together as they always did. Max watched Charles without the latter seeing him. Perhaps this was his chance ? Next year they would all be at university, perhaps even in different cities. He wouldn't forgive himself if he didn't try.
Just this once.
- Charles, I... I can pick you up if you want. I pass right by your house, so... he whispered, his voice as trembling as the hands he had hidden in the pockets of his hoodie.
The entire group fell silent the moment he uttered Charles’s name. Alex grabbed George as if he were witnessing a marriage proposal, his eyes sparkling with excitement. But Max did not see it.
He only saw the contrite furrow of Charles’s brow, his embarrassed expression, and eyes full of pity. Max wanted to bury himself underground.
- I-I’m so sorry, Max, Charles apologized, clearly as uncomfortable as Max was. I’m already going with a friend.
- A friend ? Carlos repeated, surprised. Since when do you have friends outside of us ?
Charles looked like he wanted to vanish. Perhaps even more than Max did.
- Her name is Maïa. She’s picking me up, she's my—she’s my girlfriend, he finally murmured.
Max’s heart withered in his chest. His girlfriend. Charles had a girlfriend. Tears welled in his eyes before he could stop them, so he lowered his head so no one would see.
- Max, I’m truly sorry, I swear. If I’d known, I would have said no...
- No, it’s... she’s your girlfriend. It’s normal, Max whispered in a choked voice. I have to go. Sorry.
He moved as quickly as possible, brushing past Charles who tried as best he could to hold him back.
- No, Max, wait ! Please, I—
But Max could no longer hear him. Not him, nor the other boys shouting for him to come back.
Tears rolled down his cheeks. He was stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid, he repeated to himself in a loop, angrily wiping away the tears that refused to stop. Charles didn't want Max ; he never would. Max wasn't handsome, he wasn't smart, he wasn't funny. He wasn't like Charles ; he could never measure up.
His phone rang the entire way home. Missed calls from Alex and George, messages from Carlos, from Lando... and from Charles. His very first message. Max turned off his phone.
Max never attended the graduation ball.
- Hey, do you want to be partners ? I don’t know anyone here.
Max looked up from his notes to meet a pair of the most intense green eyes he had ever seen. He stared at the boy for a moment, his brain short-circuiting.
- Oh, sorry, the other seemed to catch himself, stepping back slightly. I probably should have introduced myself first. I’m Arthur.
- I—Max, he stammered, awkwardly shaking the newcomer's hand.
- Nice to meet you, Max. So, do you want to be my partner ?
And so, Max had made a new friend. Arthur was the most energetic and extroverted person Max had ever encountered. Worse than Lando. He moved and talked incessantly. And then, you put a pencil in his hand, and he became a modern-day Michelangelo. Max was awestruck every time he saw one of Arthur’s finished works.
Then Arthur would set the pencil down, cling to Max’s arm, and beg him to buy him a coffee. "It’s the last time," he would say every single time. Max didn't mind ; Arthur made him laugh. He could afford a coffee.
One day, Max brought Arthur with him to the café where he was meant to meet the rest of the group, who, of course, had ended up on the same campus. Every single one of them was studying in the same place. A miracle ? A twist of fate ? Max wasn't sure.
When Max asked if he could introduce Arthur to them, almost everyone had agreed eagerly. After all, Max didn't make friends every day. So, his heart full of excitement, he introduced Arthur, expecting a collective exclamation as was their habit. Instead, only silence answered Arthur’s greeting. The entire group stared at him, eyes wide as if they had seen a ghost.
Lando was the first to recover. He invited Arthur to sit, while Max sat beside him, facing Charles to whom he hadn't addressed more than a "hello" since the ball. Conversation began slowly, but everything felt forced : the smiles were fake, the questions almost too intrusive. Max couldn't manage to ease the tension at all, and after barely fifteen minutes, Arthur excused himself, claiming an assignment was due. As soon as he was gone, Max turned his gaze toward the table.
- Why are you being like this ? he asked, his voice a little louder than usual. I’ve never seen him so uncomfortable. Do you not like him ?
- It’s not that, Max... Alex began with a sigh, clearly uneasy himself.
- Then what is it ? he implored. He’s energetic, funny, and kind to me. Lando ? I was sure you’d get along.
Lando scratched the back of his neck, also quieter than usual.
- He’s not mean. It’s just...
- Just what ? George ? Max asked, shifting his target, a mixture of despair and sadness swelling within him.
- Don't take this the wrong way, Max. He doesn't seem mean, but I don't think he’s right for you.
- ...What ? Max squeaked, his eyes wide.
- George is right, Charles intervened for the first time, his voice flat. "You have nothing in common. He’s too...
Charles finished his sentence with a vague gesture. Max froze for a moment that seemed to last hours. Tears rose to his eyes, but this time, they were tears of rage. In a sudden motion, he stood, grabbed his jacket, and headed for the exit... then, halfway there, he spun around.
- Arthur is my friend ! He makes me laugh, he makes me happy, and I was really looking forward to introducing him to you, but you’ve ruined everything, he spat. I don’t care if you think we don't fit together or that he’s 'too much' for me. I don't need your approval to choose who I want by my side. But don't worry, he continued, tears beading on his cheeks and lips twisted by the sobs he was holding back, you won’t see him ever again. And neither will you see me !
With that, he turned away for good, even as the other five finally snapped out of their stupor. Max had never behaved like this. He had never raised his voice at anyone.
But every man has his weaknesses, and Max’s weakness was a heart far too large for him.
The following week, Max neither saw nor contacted the group. He apologized to Arthur immediately, and Arthur assured him that everything was fine between them, so long as he never had to cross paths with the five other boys again. Max laughed, but his heart wasn't in it. He still suffered from the rejection and the lack of regard his so-called friends had shown him.
Alex was obviously the most persistent, hounding him with messages day and night, begging to meet. Max didn't reply, even though it stung more than he cared to admit.
Charles... had not sent a message.
Max stubbornly refused to think about it. He studied at the library, grabbed a bite with Arthur, and then returned to his small apartment, trying to pretend their fight didn't make him miserable. Yet the signs did not lie. Max loved science fiction films, but now he played the same episodes of Friends over and over, as if hoping they would bring him the warmth he lacked. Unconsciously, he compared the characters to his friends. George had Ross’s mannerisms, Lando was as charming as Joey, Carlos was funny like Chandler... but there wasn't really a character like Max.
People like Max didn't get movies made about them; they were just there to watch.
Two months later, Max had learned to stifle the sadness. Arthur had introduced him to his friends, Logan and Charlotte, and all four shared the same passion for their studies. Max felt particularly close to Charlotte. She was exactly the older sister he would have dreamed of having : kind, benevolent, a good listener. Max sometimes caught himself launching into monologues to which she simply smiled and nodded, a testament to her attention. She never told him he wasn't enough ; she told him there was a place for everyone, and one simply had to find it.
And perhaps Max had found it.
Then, there was a knock at his door. Max wasn't on his guard ; after all, it had been weeks since he’d heard from them.
- Hey, Max, Alex stammered timidly. Can we come in ?
Max froze for a second, then, without really knowing why, he stepped aside to let them pass. His apartment wasn't built for so many people, so they had to pile onto his bed and his desk chair.
- What are you doing here ? Max asked, his voice trembling, uncertain whether he wanted them there or not.
- We're so sorry mate, Lando replied immediately. We acted like idiots. We should have been clearer with you—
- What Lando means, George cut in, placing a hand over Lando’s mouth, is that we deeply regret what happened and we wanted to apologize.
- We really weren't smart about this, Alex confirmed, it’s just that...
He shot a quick look at the rest of the boys before diving in.
- We know you love Charles.
- ...What ? Max replied, stunned, noting for the first time that Charles was not among them.
- We didn't tell him, don't worry, Carlos reassured him. It’s just that you’re rather obvious with your feelings.
They all confirmed with a nod. Max was paralyzed with shame. He had more or less guessed that Alex knew, he could never hide anything from him anyway. But he didn't think the others had realized it too. It only made him feel more pathetic.
- Anyway, we’re not telling you this just to see you blush, Lando resumed, after licking George’s hand to force him to let go. It’s just that when you brought Arthur around, it was a shock.
Max was still trying to digest their previous words and took a moment before reacting.
- I-I don’t understand, he stammered, smoothing his hair.
- Arthur... Max, surely you saw the resemblance to Charles ? Alex hesitated.
At Max’s lack of response and his furrowed brow, the whole group froze in surprise.
- You didn't see it ? Lando exclaimed. Mate, they’re identical ! Same eyes, same build, same energy, they fucking look like twins !
- I... I never paid attention. I mean, I saw his eyes, but he’s not the only one with green eyes... Max tried to justify himself, feeling as though he were being accused of something scandalous.
- That’s all we saw, Carlos continued more calmly, arms crossed, leaning against Max’s desk. We even thought you were playing a joke on us. Introducing us to the double of your childhood crush... it was a bit bizarre.
- Not that you aren't good enough for him ! Alex added quickly. I think we misunderstood each other on that point too...
- No, but—wait, I’m not in love with Arthur. He’s not even gay ! Max corrected, caught between laughter and tears.
- You... you don't love him ? George repeated.
- No ! We’re just friends. I thought you’d understood that, he finished softly.
George put his head in his hands, elbows on his knees, and sighed deeply.
- No, we did not understand that, he groaned in a muffled voice. And we weren't the only ones. Charles has been silent since you left. I don't think he appreciated the resemblance either.
Max’s heart tightened. Of course he wouldn't have appreciated it. To see his friend show up with his own lookalike and imagine the two were in a relationship... it must have disgusted him to imagine himself with Max. That was what he’d said, wasn't it ? That Arthur was "too much" for Max.
- That’s why he’s not here, I guess, he murmured, trying to act as though he didn't care.
No one contradicted him.
Max sighed, torn between all these revelations. When he looked up, he saw them all sitting there in that tiny space. Just for him. Just because they wanted Max to come back.
- So... you don't hold it against me ? For shouting at you ?
- Of course not, Alex replied, shaking his head gently. We were surprised, but we were harsh. And now we know we were completely wrong. You’re not the one at fault, MaxMax.
- The question is do you want to forgive us, Carlos added solemnly.
- I... Max took a moment to think. It wasn't a small thing. Yes, I forgive you. But don't ever do that to me again. Please, he whispered, clearly still wounded by the whole ordeal.
- Promised ! Lando exclaimed, jumping up and throwing his arms wide.
Soon the other three followed, hugging Max so tightly he thought he might suffocate. Yet, he couldn't help but laugh as he hadn't in weeks. All these idiots were his family, after all.
It took two more weeks before Charles came to apologize in turn. Max felt it coming ; ever since he had reintegrated into the group, Charles had been casting guilty glances his way. Max had nearly cracked first, the tension becoming so thick, but Charles beat him to it. There was nothing grand about it ; he simply apologized. Not just for his reaction to Arthur, but also for the ball, despite Max’s protests.
Max remembered every word of what he had said: "I always believed you wouldn't really talk to me because you were too shy, and the day you finally tried, I rejected you." Then he had added, "I want to be your friend, Max. Truly. I know I’m asking a lot, but please give me another chance."
And what could Max say when Charles Leclerc, the boy he had been in love with since he was eleven, pleaded like that, holding both of Max’s hands in his own ?
-All right. Just once.
- Just once, Charles had promised in return.
And then he had smiled, and Max fell in love all over again. In love with that smile, those sparkling eyes, the warmth of those palms, and the kindness of this boy.