Archive of Our Own

Carlos had never learned how to get used to the silence of his house after so many years surrounded by the powerful roar of engines. Today is just another one of those days when everything in his house bothers him, the lack of noise, the dusty trophies, the photos of a time that will never come back.

His wife was out of the house taking photos for yet another magazine and he was sitting on the floor of the house going through old boxes in an attempt to fill the emptiness that Formula 1 had left. He didn’t even know why he was doing this again, but he couldn’t control the urge to revisit his glory days.

Being world champion was having his childhood dream come true, an unforgettable feeling that he wished he could repeat every day since then. Leaving the sport definitively was the second saddest day he had in his life. Leaving behind the adrenaline that dominated him when racing, the podiums full of chaos and champagne and even the frustrations after a difficult Sunday was painful. It was putting an end to something he never wanted to end. It was admitting to himself that his greatest dream had ended and that it was time to rest.

In the last week he had found several forgotten boxes, full of things that belonged to him in the time he was a Ferrari driver, perhaps the best time of his career, and in many ways, of his personal life as well. His wife had asked him to organize them and decide what was still worth keeping.

Ferrari memories are not exactly the kind of thing Carlos would like to remember, despite it having been an incredible time. There are some things that are where they should be: in the past.

Opening those boxes was almost like opening Pandora’s box.

He postponed as much as he could, but they were still there, staring at him day after day. He thought he was making a storm in a teacup with the whole situation and that the next day everything would be stored and he wouldn’t even remember those things anymore. How wrong he was. Everything started to get difficult when he opened the first box. There was only one thing inside it, his racing helmet, not from any race, his first victory. The tears started to roll before he realized it and his chest hurt with longing. He remembered that day every time he went up on the podium after a race, the first victory is always the one that stays in the heart.

It was too painful to stay there sitting looking at that helmet, so he stood up, left the house and went for a walk to clear his mind. After more than an hour thinking if he should continue with that or if he should store those boxes in a place he would never find them again, he returned home. It didn’t matter how painful it was to remember that time he would face his nightmares. Like the day he was kicked out of the Scuderia, or the day of his last race or all the days he raced knowing he would leave.

As soon as he passed through the door of the house he looked at the boxes in the middle of the living room and ignored them a little more. He took a hot and long shower, trying to be less tense and calmer. When he returned to the living room he thought it would be easier to face that challenge with some music, he picked up the phone, opened Spotify and put the first playlist he found to play. He regretted almost immediately the choice, the soft and calm touches of a song that he remembered very well reached his ears almost bursting his eardrums, even if the volume was low. “Made in Japan” was a song he didn’t want to remember, but remembering it was like a warm hug from his mother on a rainy day.

He sat in front of the boxes again, took the helmet out of the box and passed a cloth to remove the thin layer of dust that covered it. After clean, he left it aside to create a pile of what he wanted to keep. He moved to the second box, removed the tape that closed it on top and when he opened it he found his racing gloves. All the racing gloves he used in his years in the team. Some were dirty and worn out, others had been used only once. But he never kept any of his gloves, not even from other teams, so he just removed the box from in front and placed it to the side. There would be the pile of things for the trash.

The third box caught him by surprise. On top of it was written with a handwriting that was not his just one name: Charlie. The box did not match with the others that were there, it was much bigger than all, it was less dusty, as if it had appeared there later and it had that name so known by him on top of the box. Of everything he could find that was what he least expected. He carefully removed the tape that sealed the box and stayed there staring at the box waiting for it to open by itself.

He carefully lifted the flaps of the box and opened it. Inside it there were photos, papers of the most varied types, a cap with the number sixteen, a camera and a paper with big letters and with the same delicate handwriting that was on top of the box. “Please don’t forget me” was the only thing written on the paper. The tears returned to run freely through Carlos’s eyes, the sobs came out without his permission and his chest hurt like hell.

At that same moment the song that his adorable Charlie loved to play for him on the piano was playing. The part of the song made him remember the amount of times that he said it while looking deep into those green eyes that he loved so much.

I remember all the good times I had walking in the sand
With a beautiful girl that I met made in Japan

He always sang the song wrong, sometimes he changed Japan to Monaco, sometimes to Ferrari and always changed girl to boy. Because Charlie was his man, sometimes from Ferrari, sometimes from Monaco.

Charlie was Charles Leclerc, his teammate, his best friend and his boyfriend. His everything. And now he was nothing.

He took the sheet with the delicate handwriting out of the box and ran his finger over Charles’s beautiful letters on the paper, remembering the amount of times he read it. In letters confessing his love and in notes with charming or even funny phrases that he left before every race.

The first thing he managed to see in the box was a polaroid photo of their first day at Ferrari. Carlos was not even thirty when he joined the team, he had no beard and was still a party boy and immature. In that photo the two were in Maranello to meet all the mechanics, the team principal and more people responsible for making everything work. It was an incredible day.

It was in the winter of 2021 that it was taken.

Carlos was anxious that day, it was a gigantic step that he was about to take in his career. Signing with the oldest and most important team on the grid was not a small thing and he knew it. He had already changed clothes over and over again and it seemed that none of them looked good. In the end he decided to ask his girlfriend for help to choose. It didn’t help at all. She just picked an outfit that Carlos had already tried and discarded and handed it to him.

He gave up and wore that one anyway, after all the clothes would not make him get fired on the first day. He got into one of the Ferraris he had in his garage, one that he got from his father on his twentieth birthday and headed towards the Ferrari factory in Maranello, in Italy. He turned on the radio and went singing along to whatever song was playing while tapping his fingers on the steering wheel to the rhythm of the music. He was not very willing to meet so early with his new teammate, Charles Leclerc.

He thought he was a little too arrogant and also very hot-headed. His relationship with his former teammate, Lando Norris, was the best he could imagine, the two were best friends and inseparable. They got along well from the first day. Carlos already knew Charles, and he also didn’t like him very much. His only mission was not to let that be very transparent to him.

The radio played a song with a beautiful melody, talking about a man who fell in love with a Japanese girl who was promised to another man and the two never stayed together. The song touched Carlos, and made him thoughtful about how many times people who loved each other very much did not stay together for such simple things. He mentally noted to search later for the name of the song.

The car ride lasted less than half an hour and he arrived exactly at ten in the morning, just as they asked in the email that he had received three days ago. He parked the car in one of the available spots, turned off the radio and got out of the car. The morning breeze was refreshing and smelled like freshly cut grass, the sun shone high in the Italian sky and the leaves of the trees moved slightly.

He walked towards the factory and when he arrived he went to the receptionist’s desk, after all it was his first time, he had no idea where to go. He cleared his throat and forced his best Italian.

— Buon pomeriggio, potrebbe indicarmi dove si trova l'ufficio di Mattia Binotto?

He just wanted to know where Mattia Binotto’s office was, his team principal. The receptionist gave him a wide smile and stood up to show him the place. She pointed to several things along the way and said what they were, she was a kind woman. Kind even too much at some moments, touching him and using a tone of voice too sweet.

The Ferrari building was a place that at the same time was welcoming, it was also intimidating. The high stone walls, the red doors and the team symbol with the horse in the middle created a unique environment. He admired everything he could, the old cars displayed, the mechanics working in some rooms and in others people socializing and talking.

In the middle of the way they passed in front of a room, inside it was Charles and some team employee talking. Charles quickly finished the conversation and ran to catch up with them. Charles turned to the receptionist and spoke in perfect Italian.

— Sara, puoi lasciare che me ne occupi io da qui in avanti.

Then he turned to Carlos with an excited smile on his face and extended his hand while switching to English.

— Cahlos, it’s good to see you! It will be very good to have you as a teammate.

Carlos’s name sounded in such a beautiful way in Charles’s voice that it hypnotized him, the sound of the r did not come out properly because of his French accent, making the name lose a little of its intensity, but become ten times more beautiful. Carlos returned the handshake and smiled at Charles, maybe he had judged him too early for past events.

— Good to see you too Charles. I’m excited to work with you. Can you take me to Mattia’s office?

Charles’s smile grew on his face as he led Carlos through the factory. He talked non-stop every second, always introducing him to people and indicating places until the two reached a door with the name of the team principal written right in front.

— It’s right here. I will wait for you here outside to show you the rest of the factory when you finish.

Carlos nodded and entered through the door that Charles had indicated to him. Inside the team principal was waiting for him.

They had a conversation about small details about the contract that was already signed, only being reinforced to him. Mattia explained basic things about the team, talked a little about the car and what they expected for the 2021 season. It was a brief and welcoming conversation, little was really said. He also told him that more details would be given throughout the week and soon the next day he could already train in the team’s simulator. When they finished, Mattia extended his hand and said goodbye. Carlos left the room and found Charles exactly where he said he would be.

— Finally you finished! Come, I still have to show you many things.

And Charles rushed out of the corridor while pulling Carlos by the arm. He showed him where the simulators were, test tracks and introduced him to more people in the factory. When everything ended, the two were exhausted from walking so much and threw themselves into Charles’s rest room. Both drivers had a room to rest in the factory so they could relax between meetings and tests. Carlos threw himself into one of the beanbags he found and took out his phone to search for the song he had heard on the radio earlier. Charles seeing the movement did not hesitate to ask.

— What are you doing?

His tone was not interrogative, just curious to know what his teammate was doing with such a strong expression of determination. Carlos had just discovered the name of the song that had touched his heart, and was more than willing to share the information with Charles. All he wanted most was to have a good relationship with his teammate.

— I’m searching about a cool song that I heard on the radio today, “Made in Japan” the name, do you know it?

Charles turned his head to look at Carlos at the speed of light and the corner of his lips formed a smile that almost reached the ceiling.

— I love this song! And I also love to play it on the piano, it manages to be even more beautiful than it already is!

— Really? Then you will have to play it for me one day.

Charles just laughed and nodded while looking into Carlos’s eyes. Those green eyes were the most beautiful thing Carlos had ever had the pleasure to see. Charles stood up and went to a table, from there he opened a drawer and took a camera from it. He turned to Carlos and with a smile shook the camera in his direction.

— Come, let’s register the moment. The first big day of Carlos Sainz at Ferrari!

Carlos posed for photos which he never saw and after a session as a model they asked the same receptionist who had greeted Carlos at the entrance to take a photo of the two together. It was an incredible beginning for both of them.

The texture of the polaroid in Carlos’s hands brought him back to reality, his face was already bathed in tears and he felt submerged, like a wave that took him and drowned him. And this wave is Ferrari, in this case, now just the memories that remained to torment him. The 2021 season was terrible, the car was horrible and the drivers were in the middle of the crossfire of Hamilton with Verstappen. But for Carlos and Charles it was great to get to know each other better and at the end of the year the two were already inseparable best friends.

Despite the memories becoming bitter, the moments were still wonderful, Carlos places the photo next to the helmet in the pile to keep. The second polaroid photo was from Carlos’s first victory. One of the best days of his life, not only because of the victory, but also because of Charles. That day was when he realized that he had fallen in love with his best friend, his teammate.

The song continued to play in the background as if it matched the memory that that photo brought him, Buck Owens’s voice sounded in his ears saying:

As we walked by the river and she softly took hold of my hand
That's when I fell deep in love with a girl made in Japan

It was frightening and relieving at the same time, he was scared to think that maybe he could never tell Charles how much he was in love with him, and relieving to finally be able to name that mixture of confused feelings that chased him. Carlos got the answer to all his doubts later that same day.

It was in the year of 2022 in Silverstone.

Carlos got down from the podium soaked in champagne and with a smile that almost reached his ears. It was the best day of his life until then, winning a race is the objective of every driver. Regardless of the category, winning is the butterfly that you chase throughout your entire career. Those who have two hundred victories and those who have one, everyone is racing with the same objective. To win. And now it is Carlos’s turn.

Despite the incredible day that Carlos was having, Charles was having a terrible day. He started in third and lost position to Sergio Perez right at the beginning of the race, they even fought a bit for first position at a more advanced moment in the race. Carlos won the battle and Charles fell to fourth place. While Sergio Perez, who was ahead of him in the championship, finished in second. Opening advantage for Perez while Charles had led the championship at the beginning of the year.

Carlos felt bad for him, everything that the monegasque deserved most was to be world champion. He was returning to the Ferrari garage after giving interviews and talking to some other drivers at the end of the race. The smile was almost carved into his face, he couldn’t stop. When he arrived at the garage he saw the mechanics gathering to take a post-race photo. The trophy in the middle and a sign written “Carlos first win” and a p1 below. Charles did not appear.

Carlos’s smile began to falter. The engineers and mechanics bathed him with even more champagne and hugged him giving pats on his back while saying how happy they were for the victory. Mattia also appeared to congratulate Carlos. In fact, almost everyone appeared. Except Charles.

When everything ended he went to the Ferrari motorhome to get his things to leave. The place was empty and it was possible to hear even the creaking of the doors opening. Carlos went up the stairs slowly, the tiredness of the race beginning to show in his body. The adrenaline was fading and his smile was getting smaller and smaller. A little bit of him wished that Charles had stayed, to be more honest, a big part of him needed Charles to have stayed to celebrate.

Carlos did not know how to explain, but it had been some time that he could not stay without Charles. Being away from him gave him an agony in his chest and an emptiness in his mind. Being next to his teammate was like a sunny day at the beach, a hot chocolate on a cold day, it was comfortable. Hearing his sweet and calm voice, with that French accent that made Carlos go crazy every time he could not say the r of his name. Those green eyes like emeralds that looked at him as if he were the only one in the entire world. That affection and fun that only the two could have together.

All of that reminded him of Isa, his girlfriend, when they met Carlos felt the same way. As if he could fly at any moment and that he was capable of building a new world just for that person. The only difference is that Carlos was in love with Isa, or he was at the time. He was not in love with Charles. Not at all. He could not be even if he wanted to.

When he finished going up the stairs, he went to his small room to be able to get what was stored there and go to his hotel. After all his plane would leave early in the morning. He barely had time to react when he opened the door and strong arms pulled him into a firm hug. The smell of Charles’s strong and woody perfume invaded his nostrils strongly and Carlos felt dizzy for a moment. He did not know what to do, his arms were confused about which direction to take, his legs unbalanced with the strength of the hug that pushed him a little backwards and his brain was blank.

Charles was here.

Carlos raised his arms and wrapped Charles’s waist returning the hug firmly. That waist drove him crazy, so thin that Carlos sometimes caught himself thinking if his two hands could go around it. Which is not normal at all to think about his teammate, but Carlos could not avoid it. Every day he became more and more enchanted by Charles. The two stayed in silence for a few minutes, wrapped in that fog of peace and calm that only they could provide to each other. The hug was the bridge that strengthened more and more the relationship of the two. After a while Charles pulled away undoing the hug looking deep into Carlos’s eyes, the green top of the trees of his eyes meeting the trunk of the woody brown eyes of Carlos. The two complementing each other, forming one.

— I’m sorry for not being at your celebration Carlos. I’m really sorry, really. I was kind of upset and came to calm down here, I thought you would come here after the interviews and I didn’t realize that you went to take pictures with the team. I swear I wanted to be there, I swear I really did but…

Charles’s voice was broken and fragile, in the corner of his eyes small tears began to form. Carlos realized that he was going to enter in a loop, he would start talking without stopping while apologizing and would never stop.

— Charles, shhh. It’s okay. You are here now, it’s okay.

Carlos’s voice was so tender and gentle that Charles’s tense shoulders immediately relaxed. Carlos took his hands and squeezed them lightly while looking deep into Charles’s eyes, facing his pure and sensitive soul.

— You are here now Charlie and that’s all that matters.

It was the first time that Carlos used the nickname, that in the future would be the only way he would manage to call Charles. His hand went towards his face resting on his cheek, Carlos gently passed his thumb there caressing while Charles leaned to receive more affection, like a cat that seeks its owner for comfort. Carlos’s other hand went to the other cheek of his teammate and repeated the action. Charles looked at him as if he were the sun, shining only for him.

Charles moved closer slowly, until their bodies were pressed together, he brought his hand to Carlos’s cheek too and caressed it tenderly. His fingers soft like cotton traced imaginary lines on Carlos’s cheek, closing all the wounds in his heart. Caused by thinking that Charles did not care about him and that was why he did not want to celebrate his first victory. Carlos’s hands went down to his friend’s waist and wrapped it in a half hug. That was not the way two friends hugged, but who cares? Carlos definitely did not.

— You looked so beautiful up there, as if there were angels above your head on that podium. I couldn’t take my eyes off you, it was insane to see you up there. My brain couldn’t even process such beauty.

Charles’s words were loaded with affection and care, that reached Carlos’s heart and overflowed. He could not take his eyes off Charles’s mouth while he spoke. And then the thought hit him like a whirlwind. He was in love with his teammate and best friend. Much more in love than he had ever been with any other woman in his life.

He did not even have much time to process the idea that his brain had just managed when he felt Charles’s lips joining his. The initial shock made him freeze while feeling Charles’s soft and delicate lips pressed against his, however when the shock passed he could return the kiss and take possession of it. The hands on Charles’s waist tightened when the kiss deepened and one of Charles’s hands immediately went up to his hair, squeezing it lightly at some moments. When they were forced to separate by the lack of air, the two were breathless, with red faces. Carlos’s hair slightly messy and Charles’s shirt out of place.

— I got myself into a gigantic problem.

It was possible to hear the smile in Charlie’s voice, he looked at Carlos like a renaissance artwork. As if he were everything.

— Oh really? And what gigantic problem is that?

— I am completely and hopelessly in love with you.

Carlos joined their lips immediately after Charles’s words, ignoring all the problems that came with that love. The two working in the same team and being in love in an extremely homophobic sport that would never accept them and that both are committed to other women. All of that was a problem for a future Carlos to deal with, the one now only needs Charles’s body to be next to his while their lips are together. The future is a problem for later.

— I am also hopelessly in love with you, Lord Perceval.

Carlos let out a low sigh as he remembered that day.

Some things really should not be remembered.

He rummaged through the box and found the sheet music of a song. He didn’t even need to read what was written to know which one it was. It was their song. The one Carlos sang many times in the dead of night in hotel rooms, in the only beds they could share and in the only moments they could truly have each other. On the back of the sheet the lyrics were written, not the original ones but the version he always sang to Charles. At the very end of the paper in tiny and almost invisible letters Charles’s delicate handwriting was present once more.

“May the fate of this song never find us and if it does, may we be stronger than it”

They were not strong, they did not even try. They gave up as soon as the first obstacle appeared. They always chose the easiest path. Inside the box there was also one of Charles’s caps, not just any cap, but the cap he always wore saying that it was to attract good things. A cap that Carlos made a very small signature on the bottom of it. Charles always told him that he attracted good things.

In the dark of night we would lay on Tokyo bay
And the singing of the birds woke us up at the break of day
Her smiling eyes always seemed to try to understand
All the love in my heart for the girl made in Japan                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         

The melody of the song filled the piercing pain in Carlos’s heart, making him remember all the details of his relationship with Charles. The stolen glances between team meetings, podiums and during Ferrari promotional videos. Glances filled with love, attraction and everything that could not be said out loud. The most beautiful and pure message of love that the two had permission to share.

The shared silences that said more than a thousand words. The loud noise of the engines roaring, of people walking through the paddock and of the movement of drivers and mechanics, none of those were capable of erasing the sound of their hearts hammering in their chests. The silences on difficult, easy and even forbidden nights, of hotel rooms being witnesses to the consummation of their love.

Secrets that could never exist in the light of day, secrets that even at night were forbidden. Declarations of love spoken as if pronouncing a spell, feelings that should never have been spoken. But that their confession only reinforced what the two knew. That if they wanted, their love would be the strongest connection to exist. The only problem is that they never wanted.

So much love repressed and thrown away. What could have sprouted and become a life full of companionship became nothing. He remembered when the two made plans to become world champions, retire and then reveal their love to the world. They had already been retired for years and had not spoken for more than fifteen years.

Despite all of that Charles was the most beautiful part of his life. With him the world was a utopia. Charles always put the blanket on Carlos, because he knew he could not sleep without it. He kept chocolate pastries every day at breakfast because they were his favorites. He made an effort not to leave the room messy because he knew he hated it.

No one had ever known him the way that man knew him. He expresses his love in acts of service. Carlos, no matter how much he tried, could not be as good at it as Charles. But he always liked physical touch and words of affirmation.
Being there holding Charles’s waist, or just their pinkies intertwined, bodies pressed together and fleeting touches. That was essential for Carlos. He said things to Charles until his cheeks became as red as the car they drove, or that made him smile with those beautiful dimples or that simply made him look at Carlos as if he were the entire world. That was loving for Carlos Sainz.

Carlos also remembers the last time he saw that cap and how the situation did not end well. A day that sounded exactly like the part of the song that was playing.

My transistor radio comes from far away
And when it's night over here over there it's a breaking day
She cried when she said she'd been promised to another man

It was on a day in September of 2023.

Charles’s moans were like music to his ears. His name was said like a prayer by Charles’s beautiful lips while their hips collided. This was another one of the forbidden encounters that the two had between races.

The two were in Charles’s apartment, something unprecedented. The two were single and felt less guilty loving each other without having to betray someone who waited for them at home with love and trust. Charles had sent a message the night before almost at dawn inviting him to go to his house. Since at that time it would be much more difficult for someone to see him driving through the streets of the principality to the monegasque’s house.

The two loved each other with body and soul, their bodies synchronized down to the smallest reactions. And the moment of release was always the peak of everything. The two were exhausted and their chests rose and fell in a synchronized way and the flush on their faces indicated an extreme tiredness. Nothing that two elite athletes were not used to.

Despite the tiredness Carlos got up and went to the bathroom and wet a small towel with warm water. And returned to clean the mess that the two had made. The delicacy with which he passed the cloth over Charles’s body showed that their care went beyond hiding their love. After he considered his work perfect, Carlos threw himself beside a Charles already asleep in the bed, hugged him by the waist until his chest was pressed against Charles’s back and whispered a brief good night to him. Charles just mumbled before adjusting himself on Carlos and falling into a deep sleep.

When Carlos woke up there was no one in the bed anymore, but he could hear the sound of pans being moved and a strong smell of bacon filled the room. He quickly grabbed one of the underwear on the floor and put it on going towards the kitchen. When he reached the door of it the sight he found overflowed his heart.

It was a scene that he wished he could have every day, Charles dressed in only one of his shirts and his beautiful legs on display, stirring eggs in a frying pan while humming some random French song. Carlos wished he could have that forever. That casualness of living with Charles, of being able to love Charles.

Not needing to hide, pretend that they were just friends and that nothing was different between them. He wished he could scream to the world his love for him. To be able to say how beautiful Charles Leclerc looked making breakfast for him. To be able to have everything that he would have with a woman.

The kisses after the podiums, being able to watch a race being only Charles’s boyfriend and not a racing driver, being able to openly say “my boyfriend” in an interview before or after the race. To be able to live the casualness of everyday life with him.

Living together, cooking together in the giant kitchen that Charles has at home, adopting pets together and treating them like children, arguing about who left the towel on the bed. Things so basic but that for Carlos is essential and that he can never live.

Maybe now that the two are single they can tell the media that they want to relax and stay single for a while. While they establish a better life for them. Maybe Carlos talks about this with Charles later.

At the moment what he does is approach Charles slowly and hugs him from behind, resting his chin on his boyfriend’s shoulder who is slightly startled.

— Mon Dieu, Cahlos! You can’t come scaring me like that, what if I had burned myself?

Carlos ignores the monegasque’s protests and begins to distribute kisses along his neck until his breathing becomes irregular and all he can say is his name, in that weak and intense way that only he can.

The two did not take long to finish making breakfast. They served the table and ate while commenting on everyday things, like what happened with one of Charles’s brothers or what Carlos’s dog had done last week. They talked about everything and nothing at the same time.

When they finished eating and put the dishes in the sink Charles dragged him to the piano. On top of it was the cap that attracted good things in Charles’s view. He took it from the top of the piano and placed it on the Spaniard’s head. He lightly ran his fingers over the piano keys and started to play.

Their song. Always their song.

Carlos did not sing this time. He preferred to appreciate the expression of concentration on his boyfriend’s face who tried his best for the song to sound perfect. That’s how they spent the rest of the day, from the bed to the piano and from the piano to the bed. Using all the time they could to love each other as much as they could.

It was already night again when Carlos began to get ready to leave. The next day he would record a commercial for L’oreal early in the morning. So since everything he took to Charles’s house was his phone and the car keys, he needed to go back. As much as he did not want to.

The two were tangled on the couch while they waited for a good time so that no one would see the Spanish driver leaving his teammate’s house. After a long and comfortable silence, the two broke it at the same time.

— I have something to tell you.

The scene was comical, like something out of a movie. The two looked at each other quickly before starting to laugh at the coincidence. Carlos turned to the monegasque and indicated with his fingers for him to speak.

— You can speak first.

Nothing in the world could prepare him for what would come next. While Carlos planned to tell about his plan for the two to stay single for a while to be able to enjoy the relationship more what Charles said destroyed him and destroyed all his plans together.

— I am dating a new girl.

Immediately he adjusted his posture on the couch. His breathing started to get faster, millions of questions passed through his head and his chest hurt with the truth that maybe he was not that important to Charles.

— What?

The expression on his face was pure terror, his voice was reduced to a broken whisper filled with pain. He looked deep into those green eyes that he used to admire so much waiting to hear that everything was a joke or maybe that it was a request from the public relations team. Anything.

— I met her here in Monaco in a café near home. Her name is Alexandra and she is incredible Cahlos. She is beautiful and kind, and she is also very funny. She has a sense for fashion much better than mine. She is certainly the most incredible person I have ever met. And guess what? I was wearing the lucky cap! It seems that your signature really attracts good things.

Carlos had never felt so offended in his entire life. That man had the courage to look deep into his eyes in one of the only moments they could enjoy each other and said that the driver’s signature on a cap special to their relationship made him date a new girl. Sometimes Carlos wished that Charles were a real man.

He stood up in a jump from the couch and grabbed his phone and car keys at the speed of light. He looked at Charles, looked at the piano in the corner of the room and then took the cap from his head and threw it with all the strength he had at Charles.

— Then keep that shit of luck just for you.

Carlos said while leaving the apartment without giving time to hear what Charles had to say. Said no, shouted and then ran away from his feelings and from the monegasque driver he works with. He spends the rest of the week ignoring the endless calls that Charles makes, leaves thousands of messages unread and simply pretends that Charles Leclerc never existed.

When they fly to the Singapore race, the Spaniard proves himself an excellent actor. Best friends in front of the cameras and nonexistent outside of them. Carlos won the race, being the only victory of Ferrari in the season and of a driver that was not from Red Bull. He broke the record streak of ten victories of Max Verstappen and even so when the race ended Carlos received the news that they signed with Lewis Hamilton for the 2025 season.

At no moment they said that they would fire him, but it was implied at every moment. They would never fire the golden boy of Ferrari, the boy forged and molded there. Made to fit with all the ideals of the Scuderia and that little by little put Charles in a very strong Stockholm syndrome.

He was the boy made in Ferrari. Carlos would never have space there.

That night he ended in Charles Leclerc’s bed.

They did not talk about Alexandra, nor about Lewis Hamilton and much less about Ferrari. They only loved each other the entire night giving themselves body and soul to each other.

And two weeks later, Carlos appeared dating Rebecca, a Scottish model.

In memory, the red cap was still on Charles’s head.

In reality, it was still in Carlos’s hands.

Charles apologized to him at the time, said that Alexandra was nothing and that they would soon break up. The two got married and had two children and Charles still had the nerve to send a wedding invitation to him. Carlos’s first reaction when seeing the cap in his hands again was to throw it with all the strength he had against the wall.

That cap was the physical representation of the ruin in his life, of the days when everything was extraordinary beside the love of his life and of the day that this same person destroyed everything they had. Everything that Carlos had.

Carlos sobbed so much that he felt unable to breathe, his chest hurt, his vision was blurred because of the tears that fell without his permission. All he wanted was Charles, that pure and sincere love that he never had again. He pushed the boxes to the side and staggering went to the kitchen to get a glass of water with sugar to calm down. The first thing he saw was a Ferrari mug in his cabinet.

The crying increased until he no longer had conditions to stay standing, his body slid down the kitchen wall until he was in a fetal position crying on the floor with a broken heart. So many broken promises, so many stored dreams. One, two, three, infinite hours passed until Carlos managed to stand up to drink the water.

His hand trembled and he feared dropping the glass while bringing it towards his lips, in small sips he drank all the liquid until the glass was empty. He turned again to the last box waiting for him on the floor of his living room. The greatest desire of the Spaniard at the moment is to throw all of that in the fireplace and watch everything burn.

But there is the only place where his love still exists besides the memories. The physical records would remain, even when he was gone. And maybe, just maybe, in a distant future people will come to know who Carlos Sainz really was. Who he was beyond all the lies that he built around himself to endure until finally rest eternally.

He forced himself to finish seeing the content of the box, after all everything that was there would return to it and will be stored in some place where not even sunlight or fresh air reach.

Now the song played the most devastating part of its lyrics and the one that Carlos identifies the most now after all the silence.

That's when I left my heart with the girl made in Japan
Yes my heart will always be with the girl made in Japan

His heart would forever belong to his boy made in Ferrari.

The last thing in the box was a letter, with a recent date. Three years ago. Probably when that box appeared among Carlos’s things without him noticing.

With handwriting far less delicate than Charles used to have and with ink stains, probably from tears that had fallen onto the paper, on the envelope there was only one sentence written.

Not even in another life could I love someone who isn’t you.

Now Carlos’s tears joined Charles’s, smudging the ink on the envelope of the letter. So much meaning and so much pain.

Carefully, he broke the seal of the envelope and two things fell onto his lap. A letter and a polaroid photo from Carlos’s last race day with the Scuderia. The two of them with red, swollen eyes, smiling as if the next day were just another day, as if that wasn’t a definitive ending.

December 8th, 2024.

They didn’t make it. They fought to win the constructors’ championship and they didn’t. It was his last chance to achieve something side by side with Charles and he failed. He couldn’t overtake the rocket that was Lando Norris on track. And now he would have neither the title nor his seat to try again.

After the wonderful year they had, they won races, stood on the podium together several times, and had fun in videos for Ferrari. It was right there in front of him, the end waving at him. Monza and Monaco were the best races. Even though he didn’t make the podium in the first, watching Charles win in front of the tifosi and in his home country was something that sent chills down his spine.

Carlos also had his moments of glory that year, his best year at Ferrari, right when he was being cast aside. Getting out of the corsa red car one last time was certainly memorable, just as it was getting into it for the first time. After four years bathed in red, he would say goodbye to that color he had loved for so long.

Carlos didn’t want to be just part of the fantasy that was Scuderia Ferrari, he also wanted to be part of the family that existed there.

And he managed it, regardless of the ups and downs, the fights and disagreements with Charles and his team principals, he was as much a part of Ferrari as anyone on that team. To him everything was a blur, the cold champagne hitting his face and body, leaving him completely soaked. Everything moved so slowly and so fast at the same time that nothing could be properly recorded in his memory. Only that deep sadness that made his bones ache.

The world outside was loud, the crowd going wild, reporters and photographers, mechanics moving nonstop. Carlos heard nothing. Lando hugged him and said something and he responded like a robot programmed to do so. He didn’t even notice when he started crying, but when he came back to himself he was giving a speech thanking the whole team for the years they had been together.

He thanked Charles too and at that moment he started crying even more. Charles wasn’t doing well either. Losing the title and his boyfriend on the same day is hard. Not just anyone can keep standing after the exhausting day the two of them had.

After all the emotion, Carlos went to his rest room. It was the last time he would step in there, so many times he had taken naps there to escape boring meetings, now they would be nothing but history for that space. He stood there in the middle, absorbing the energy of the day, thinking about how he would face what was still to come and how he wished he had had more time with everyone there.

At some point the door opened and Charles walked in, closed the door and stood there. Carlos didn’t notice him entering, nor did he see when he came up from behind and hugged him. They stayed there, half-embracing, watching a space they had shared for so many years turn into nothing.

— This won’t work, Charles. The two of us… this won’t work.

Carlos broke the brief moment of peace that had formed between them with tears in his eyes. Charles had never seen him so fragile and wished he could erase that image from his mind forever.

— What do you mean by that, Carlos?

The detail didn’t go unnoticed by Carlos, he hadn’t messed up the pronunciation of the r. His name, for the first time in four years, sounded normal coming from Leclerc’s lips. Charles had red eyes, furrowed brows and a small pout on his lips. The same pout Carlos loved to kiss when he had his dramatic moments.

— It means that I love you, Charlie, and because of that I can’t trap you in a relationship that will never go anywhere. We will never be able to be open and we will always be dating other people and you deserve so much more than that. Much more than forbidden nights in hotel rooms, than kisses in dark alleys and secrets we can never say out loud. You don’t deserve that.

Carlos’s eyes didn’t stop pouring tears for a single second, his voice was broken and his English was full of mistakes. The same English Carlos used when he was too tired to think about verb conjugations. He caressed Charles’s face the same way he had on the day they kissed for the first time. Instead of a beginning, it was a full stop.

— You’re too good of a person to be tied to this. The web you got yourself into with Ferrari is already enough. And even so, I want you to know that even if the stars were falling and the world was collapsing, my heart would still belong completely to you, Leclerc.

Charles was crying so much that the sobs made him unable to speak, his instincts took over and ignoring all dangers he kissed Carlos right there. His hands went up to Carlos’s neck and he pressed their lips together in a kiss full of possession and desire, their tongues battling for space in each other’s mouths. A kiss that screamed possession, that had no tenderness, only desire in its rawest and cruelest form. Teeth clashed and tongues fought for more and more space until neither of them could breathe anymore. Until their breaths were ragged and their minds clouded by the desire to consume each other.

They were like fire and gasoline, the two could never coexist without resulting in an explosion.

— Not even in another life could I love someone who isn’t you.

That night their bodies consumed each other without stopping. A definitive farewell to their relationship, but never to their love because not even the gods could break that. A love that survived everything they went through together is stronger than anything. It was the last time the sheets of their beds felt their bare skin in contact. The last time hotel walls heard the most sincere prayers of love and loyalty. The last time their bodies pressed together for a night until their souls fused and melted their minds.

That night they memorized each other’s bodies, their sounds and their favorite places on each other’s bodies. Because for that there would never be records, only memories deep in their minds echoing for eternity.

Carlos was hearing the most beautiful sounds a human being could ever make.

Carlos blinked slowly.

The final melodies of “Made in Japan” played in his living room, completely closing the cycle of memories that that box had brought to the surface.

The former driver set the photo aside and opened Charles’s letter. The first thing his eyes caught was Charles’s messy handwriting, as if it had been written in a hurry or so slowly that Charles had been too tired to care about his handwriting.

My dear Cahlos,

you have no idea how much I miss you every single day. When I wake up in the morning and it’s not your body resting beside mine, when I go to play anything and no one matches my competitiveness the way you did, and when I look into my wife’s eyes to tell her I love her and all I can see is your face in hers.

I loved you so much. Every fiber of my being was dedicated to loving you and worshipping you, and when you left my body lost its meaning, my body no longer responded to anything. I was programmed to be yours, Carlos, only yours. Today, more than twenty years after the day you left, I can finally see that we could have avoided this. But I didn’t want to leave Ferrari for you, I never wanted to leave, not even when it was for myself. In the end, I was never the world champion I always wanted to be with Ferrari, and I also never had you by my side to be able to move forward.

I wish I had been braver, for you, for us, and even for myself. I was a coward even when you weren’t here. My son celebrated so much when you became world champion, a title I never properly congratulated you for winning. Little Carlos ran endlessly around the house when you won that race in Singapore. Yes, I named my son after you, a name I was never able to pronounce properly. I had enough courage to give your name to my son and never had enough courage to have a child with you.

I wish I had chosen to love you. I’m sending you this box because I don’t want you to do what I did for many years. Ignore what was the most beautiful and sincere part of our lives. In other lives or universes, the two of us end up together. We make the right decisions and we are completely happy, not with a false half we pretend is real just to please others. In another world, the two of us had children with your beauty and my gift for music. Your calmness to handle difficult moments and my drama to get everything we ever wanted.

If I told the Charles from twenty years ago that our love had been reduced to several “what ifs…” he would certainly lose his mind. Because Carlos, losing the world title with Ferrari was painful.

But the greatest defeat of my life was losing you.

Unfortunately, we will never be able to exist in this world. So every time you want to remember us, this box exists to keep the story of our love alive. I hope you still remember our song, the one that used to be the reason for my living day after night. And I say this because I’m afraid that one day you might forget me the way I almost forgot you.

Because I spent half of my life trying to forget you.

And the other half trying to remember what it was like to live without you.

Please don’t forget me, because not even in another life could I love someone who isn’t you.

Yours once,
Charlie.
(ps: your boy made in Ferrari)

Carlos couldn’t stop crying, because that man knew him so well that he did something to make sure he would never forget the two of them; even apart, Charles took care of him. His chest ached with longing, but also with the relief of finally being able to put a full stop to this story that had haunted him day and night.

Time passed and he gradually calmed down, the sobs disappeared, the tears dried on his cheeks, and all that remained was a bitter longing for a time that would never return. So without thinking twice, he grabbed his car keys to drive aimlessly, because even after many years retired, driving was still his form of therapy.

When he realized, he had driven to that bakery he had heard Charles talk about so passionately for so many years. The very place where he met Alexandra. Carlos liked to blame her for his relationship having gone wrong and deeply resented her for becoming friends with his wife. Deep down, he knew the truth. He knew that the only ones to blame were Charles and Carlos, always them. And that, in the end, they were just two wonderful women who had been placed in the middle of this battlefield.

He stayed there, just staring at the building’s facade without ever going in. Because he didn’t need to, that full stop had already been placed. He no longer needed to chase scraps of memories with Charles; he would have them forever, some days more, some days less.

Because a part of him would always belong to his boy made in Ferrari.