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The Onlooker
There is an old saying that lookers-on see the most of the game.
It's true; but James found it disappointing to be the onlooker. He hated to have to witness all heartbreak, all the pain and sometimes small delight over the years.
He hates his two colleagues. The blithering idiots are too blind and too moronic to see what's going on right in front of them. He also hates himself for being the onlooker. I mean, you can't interfere in the game when you are just a member of the audience.
He hates his job and especially hates it when he has to work with two hideously oblivious wankers who are both overconfident about hiding their feelings and too stupid to figure out the other's feelings when it's pretty much that obvious. He wants to shout in their ears so loud that they'll still hear his words echoing after a week, "Now kiss, you utter pair of morons. Go away! Get a room!" And then bang their heads together. He is a man of patience. But he can't handle it. He didn't do it because he can't. You can't simply shout about the next move when watching a live chess game.
It's their game, after all.
And James sometimes regrets that.
||When he joined the show for series two he knew something was going on. Even if he only remembered where his desk was yesterday.They were like a pair of lovesick morons, looking at each other with unwieldy emotions that made him sick. It made him sick when they’d pop out for a quick cigarette midmorning together. Soon he’d probably have to quit smoking just to avoid the whole thing. It was difficult to refrain from rolling his eyes when they sipped coffee and stood around waiting for filming to commence.
He found it nearly impossible to sit through meetings with them. It was quite painful to sit between these two, and being forced to watch this disgusting show of "I see you and you see me" thing. James was sure that they were having an affair or something. He didn’t know how everyone in the office wasn’t gossiping about it, it was so obvious. Maybe the short bloke would suck Jeremy off every night after work.But then, he found out, they weren't having an affair. They weren’t doing anything.
Bloody Nora. They even shared Hammond's lunch in Clarkson's office!
Every time he got up from his desk to stretch a bit and go to the breakroom to refill his tea, he would see a cheerful Richard Hammond running to Jeremy's office with his packed lunch box. Like some hormonal preteen with his first crush.
What's wrong with these people?
He got quite furious and turned down most of their invitations to the pub after work. Although he thought it was not his place to remind these two to just go away and fuck, he desperately wanted to. At least this would kill him quicker and save his eternal pain of having to witness the great double-way unrequited romance.
||
As the years went on he realized the complexity of this thing, no matter what it was: love or a complex friendship. These two were in the most difficult relationship that he ever knew or read about.
Jeremy got himself some mistresses over the years and he had nothing to say about this. But he could see that Richard was really upset by it.
Hammond was unusually quite when he had to sit in the back of a car with James while Jeremy and his girlfriend in another car. It had nothing to do with James being irritating or something. He tried to make friendly small talks but Hammond didn't seem to reply well. But when he mentioned Jeremy Hammond was suddenly encouraged and eagerly engaged in the mocking of his weight or baldness.
This is sick.
And Jeremy, well, seemed not that interested in his girlfriends sometimes. When they were dining together, Jeremy and his girl sat at one table while Hammond sat with him at another. But when Hammond laughed really loud and made some weird squeaking noises which he didn't know whether was intended to catch Jeremy's attention, Jeremy would invariably turned his gaze from his company or his food to Hammond to laugh at him. The stupid ape would even turn away from his girlfriend who was literally midsentence just to catch the eye one tiny little man making a horrible high-pitch noise. He was so tired of watching this and stopped sharing a table with Hammond.
Even with their sexual tension unsolved the giant and the midget appeared to be very happy in this odd relationship for they still teased each other constantly. James once caught them looking each other in the eyes for so long that he was afraid that they might kiss and he needed to go outside. How could they be like this for such a long time, stuck there making no progress at all?
||
A very special occasion made him change his attitude towards his colleagues.He was drinking with Hammond at a local pub near his house. The short bloke got so drunk that James had to carry him back to his house. His girlfriend, Sarah, was on a trip with her friends so she wasn’t there to bare witness to the miserable scene."Can I tell you something, James?" Hammond said quietly, wiping his mouth from the vomit he’d just left on James’ shirt.
"What’s that?" James was busy changing his shirt in the bathroom.
"I think I love him."
He thought he heard him wrong. Or maybe he hoped that he had heard wrong. Maybe Hammond said "I think I'll vomit on your sofa."As he re-entered the living room he saw one sad little man curling himself in the corner of the sofa. "What, Hammond?"
"I think I love him, James. I'm done. I'm totally screwed." Hammond covered his face with his hands and let out a soft sob. James didn't know how to handle this situation. In what he had always considered to be very British, patriotic even, he wasn't very good at comforting people. Standing awkwardly to the side, he could only say "there, there" while stiffly patting his mate’s back.
"Whom do you love, Hammond." It wasn’t a question; he already knew. But he needed to get Richard talking and that was the best thing he could think to say.
"Jeremy, Jeremy fucking Clarkson. I love him. I can't. It's... I don't know what I'm talking about. But I think I have loved him for… well for a really long time. James, oh god. What am I going to do?" The small man could barely complete a sentence.
James was not sure what to do next. He couldn't say, "Yes, I knew that about the first day I worked with you two." Though he was sorely tempted.
He couldn't provide a solution. And he didn't know the exact reason why Hammond was this sad about it. It couldn't be that he only found out his love for Jeremy just then!"Why do you love him, Richard? "
Hammond didn't understand him. "I'm married. James. I mean, I love Mindy. But I think I love him. What's wrong with me?"
Hammond cried fat tears that ran down from the corners of his big brown eyes. James thought it was breathtakingly beautiful. He wished Jeremy could see that and collect his hamster back for a good shag. James was the wrong person to see this. Just another cosmic cock-up in this convoluted mess. But since Jeremy wasn’t there he needed to help.So, unable to think of anything to say, James walked over to the couch and sighed deeply. and sat next to him and hugged the hamster.Hammond melted into his hug sobbing on his shoulder while tugging at the back of James's shirt.He was sure that he was giving Hammond a quick friendly hug to make his mate feel better. But Hammond begged to differ. He literally nuzzled into the comforting hug with a soft sigh, "Jeremy..."
James almost jumped when he heard this. Cocking Nora. Hammond was too drunk to figure out that he was not Jeremy fucking charming Clarkson.
"James, Hammond, I'm May."
After a long time of silence, he then realized that Hammond had fallen asleep in his arms and he had to put a blanket on this ungrateful little bastard after releasing him onto the sofa.
||
When Hammond woke up with a huge headache and moaned for water, he quickly decided to forget about what happened the previous night and told him he fell dead asleep on the way here.
Hammond seemed convinced.
And James's conscience stirred. He didn't know whether to be the one to tell Hammond what was really going on between him and Jeremy. He didn't even know whether he should support the mutual attraction of his colleagues or not. Although he had no children of his own James did realize this thing, whatever it was, would definitely affect their children and families. " Daddy loves his male co-presenter" has got to be one of worst thing you can say to your children.
He understood that sometimes true love will never work out. And what's more, he didn't think he could call it a true love. He thought it was a weird friendship. He was afraid that if he did become the informer by forcing it all out into the open everything would go terribly wrong without doubt.
And with a bit selfishness, he'd love to keep his job. So, no, James May knew absolutely nothing about what's going on with his colleagues.Even though he knew that it hurt a lot to love someone you should never have fallen in love with in the first place.
He watched Hammond leave with a nagging guilt.
||
And Jeremy whom he'd known for an even longer time was still an enigma to him.That he can be very charming and completely rude at the same time. He irritates you constantly but you still like him. They didn't talk much about their feelings or their midlife crises much. Well, you simply don't talk to your mates about your disappointment about your growing belly.But after an unexpected phone call at one in the morning, Jeremy Clarkson came to him more often to talk about his psychological problems.
He was sleeping like a baby after a good meal. Then the bloody telephone rang. When his alarm clock glowed 1am James almost didn’t answer, but for the voice of his mother echoing through the ages. “James, I don’t care what time of day or night it is. If the phone rings you pick it up. What if someone is in hospital dying or already dead?” “Well, Mum,” he once responded, “if they’re already dead they won’t mind waiting until morning, will they?”
Then he bothered to pick up, it was Jeremy bloody Clarkson over the phone, almost begging to speak to someone about his mental health.Then he had to sat on that sofa for an hour and a half in cold to listen to his co-presenter’s midlife crisis. He remembered hearing some words like "daughters ", "wife", "divorce ", "belly", "bald". And he wanted so bad to mention that despite Jeremy Clarkson almost listed everything on the planet involved in his self-pity moaning… one Richard Hammond was missing. Hammond was like a doorway. Jeremy was going in and out of the door all the time but he refused to acknowledge it.
He knows Jeremy can’t actually hide his feelings. He'll get really itchy to let slip his secrets, like a pat on the shoulder or writing some very inappropriate implications about his secret mistress in his Sunday Times column. So just before he blatantly asked about Hammond, Jeremy mumbled about envying the energy and vigour of their younger colleague. Jeremy basically praised Hammond from head to toe. He even suggested that his dressing style was acceptable. This was so wrong.
The whole-time James sat on the other end of the phone feeling like an all-knowing teacher waiting for his student to make the inevitable mistake.
"What does he think of me? He didn’t maybe mention it to you, perhaps when you two hang out? You know, on one of your stupid motorcycle outings?" Jeremy sounded careless while saying this, like he was making a throwaway comment about the weather. But James was laughing at him mutely.
"I don't know. He’s never mentioned." James straightened up a bit and struggled to tell the necessary lie. After another five minutes' nonsense Jeremy thanked him and hung up.
He still sat there staring into his dark kitchen, wondering if he should do something to change this awkward situation. He did want to spare his friends’ from any unnecessary pain.
||
Then one night while having a party with crew from Top Gear James finally went for it.
He and Jeremy were already sitting together when Hammond came and sat down with them. James suggested that they play Truth or Dare. They were all just drunk enough for this to seem silly. But things really didn't work as well as he hoped. He was the one losing the most and had to drink a lot of Irish whiskey. Then the opportunity came. Jeremy lost and James got to think up a dare for him. While he was thinking, he saw Hammond sitting next to Jeremy, unable to keep a distance. They were pretty much leaning on each other. He said to Jeremy,"Kiss Hammond."He was sweating a bit as this might happen in front of him and those two probably couldn't stop once they started. He really didn’t want them shag right there.
To his surprise, Jeremy refused. Hammond looked relieved but disappointed.
James was suddenly quite sad. He made his excuses to go outside for a while. Breathing the cold evening air, he realized these two would never work out. He felt sorry for them but knew he could do nothing. He hated himself for knowing this. It's like he is forced to watch a film but he already knew the ending was tragic. He has to suffer all of the pains of seeing his best friends reaching the bad ending over some undetermined time, years probably. Maybe decades.
He doesn't know how this will end exactly. But he can only see two possibilities; it can either end smoothly without anyone making a fuss or ugly with everything going terribly wrong.
Sometimes he sees these two, plotting out a prank or sharing a good laugh and he feels genuinely happy for them for enjoying what's left in their complicated relationship. Then the sadness seeps in for them not knowing each other's feelings. But he also thinks it's for the better.He is constantly struggling with his entangled mind for not being able to doing something about it.
He still is.
The cameras are on. The crowd is cheering. The sun beats down. Jeremy and Richard are beaming manically on an obvious adrenaline high. He smiles too, of course. He needs to.
The Grand Tour has started. And he still struggles while standing beside his two best friends.
END