If only they knew

Chapter 8 - Memories and Beginnings

Two weeks later

Charles POV:
Spa, Belgium, Thursday before the race.

It had been two weeks since Charles had seen Anett, and the boy had a lot happened in that time. What a hectic summer break it turned out to be. He had partied so much all to try and forget her. He had slept with way too many women to forget her, but as he did, all he could think about was her. How could he think about fucking her when he hadn't even seen her in a bikini? How could he not get her out of his head? He was obsessed with her, and he couldn't stop. It made him sick.

His thoughts were thrown back to Paris when he broke down to Pierre. Pierre was so mad at him. He never realised that he felt this way for the girl; otherwise, he would have told him to shoot his shot try his most challenging, and get this girl. Charles, deep down, knew that Pierre felt guilty; he knew that Pierre blamed himself for how Charles was acting. Drinking, sleeping with random strangers, Charles had been the luckiest man in the world that his sexcapades had not become public. They would have ruined him if they did. It culminated on the last night when Charles walked through the door of Pierre's apartment after having sex with his 10th random girl of the week and just broke down.

"WHY IS IT NOT HER, PIERRE? WHY WAS I SO STUPID??" Charles was crying like a baby, whining even. Pierre knew Charles was still drunk but couldn't help feeling like the truth was coming through. So as any best friend would, he picked Charles up, took him to bed, and laid with him listening until all his tears had disappeared and then held him until he fell asleep. The press would have had a field day. Every F1 fan would have had a field day. Fanfiction worldwide would break down if they could see a crying Charles Leclerc being held and hugged by his best friend, Pierre Gasly. What was necessary was that they weren't anything anymore other than two regular best friends. One relies on the other in their time of need. Turning to the other when he felt he had no one else to turn to and nowhere else to go.

Returning to Spa was always tricky for Charles. 2 years ago, a good friend of his Anthoine had died in an awful accident. No one could have ever predicted with the safety of modern-day technology that could have happened. It did. He would generally be more emotional about these things, except this was all about Pierre. Anthoine was like Pierre's brother. They went to school together, lived together, and were more like family than friends. He needed to be there for Pierre this weekend, so he pushed every memory of his past few weeks out of his head and made sure Pierre was his number one priority. They walked the track, laid flowers for Anthoine, and did all their media and everything else together. Charles was pretty sure Pierre wanted to tell him to fuck off and let him have some space, but he didn't, at least not for the first few days. On Saturday before qualifying was it.

"Charles, I'm not a child. Give me some space!" Pierre said to him in a firm but not harsh tone.

"I'm just being there for you like you always are for me."

"I know, man, but I need some space. I'm fine. I promise if I need anything, you will be the first person I call." Pierre said with a smile.

"I love you Mamène (my man? Sorry for my non-Frenchies this is a difficult one. Think of it as someone calling you bro)

"I love you more, now get lost," Pierre yelled at him and laughed.

Qualifying went ok. Charles was 8th his teammate Carlos was 10th. What could Charles say about Carlos? He liked him as a teammate, but they didn't gel well as people together. He admired, respected, and found him pleasant, they were always friendly, but they would never be friends. Not for anything other than they were just not compatible. Charles had made peace with that. After everything was over, he finished all his interviews, ate; he was walking back to the car to visit the hotel for tomorrow. It was late, and he had thought he was the last driver there. He talked to the race engineers about pushing the car for tomorrow.  Charles heard footsteps not too far behind him, running. He turned, expecting to be ambushed by some photographer. Just what he needed today. Still so hang up on Anett, a shit qualifying session and worrying about Pierre, Charles needed to take care of himself!