Secret Love Song •Lestappen• (DISCONTINUED)

The Monaco Grand Prix🏆

CHARLES POV:

I slowly clapped, watching as the prince of Monaco handed Max the winning trophy as I stood from second place. I could feel the jealousy in me, it was like a burning sensation. It was meant to be my trophy, and I was sure of it.

Blue Redbull crowds cheered. I pictured red ferrari crowds. The dutch national anthem played. I could hear the Monaco anthem. Flags of Blue white and red waved, fuck the blue, I only wanted red and white.

In my trace I almost didn't take my trophy, I wasn't satisfied with it. I wanted to slam it on the floor and shove max off the podium. But I took it from Princess Charlene, and with a smile, held it up for the crowds. In my head, they screamed ten times louder than Redbull ever could.

I was handed a bottle of champagne, when you're on a podium with two red bull drivers at your home race its difficult to act happy, when yet again your team fucks up. But the only pleasure I had was drenching Max in the alcohol, just hoping for the bottle to fall out my hand and clock him on the head. I wanted it to and was quite disappointed when it didn't,

I moved on pretty quick when he tripped on the steps down from the podium.

I laughed, he'd slid straight on his back , hitting his spine on the steps and sadly no cameras caught it. I didn't bother to keep my laughter in as I attempted to snake past him. Watching as he tried to get back up.

But he did something I never thought he'd do, especially not on the Monaco Grand Prix podium.

I was pushed by max, falling flat out on my back from the slip of the champagne back onto the stage.

"Dont fucking laugh." He spoke, clearly triggered only from a slip up of a laugh. Every fan that was leaving the crowds heads now turned right back to look at me.

"What the fuck?" I shouted at how pathetic it was, he had the audacity to push me over for laughing, just laughing.

Everyone's eyes were on me, cameras out and gasps shuddered the Monaco streets.

Fuck this, I thought, getting up and pushing Max down the remaining steps.

He didn't seem to like that much either.

"You are really going to do this? Right here?" he asked, dropping his trophy out of his hands without a care in the world as it crashed to the floor, snapping at the end.

"I didn't do anything wrong!" I yelled, placing my own trophy down, shoving Max when he got close enough.

"You fucking humiliated me!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air just for them to fall back down and hit his sides.

"Humiliated? How did i? i laughed?" I shouted back, cameras now surrounding us like it was a wrestling match.

Max rolled his eyes, he clearly realised he was having a fight with me over nothing and went to walk away, but i wasn't finished, "Yeah go walk off, you start anything with anyone slightly below your talent!"

He still didn't turn around, but he stopped walking.

"You've got some serious anger issues you know?"

Max spun, punching me right in the eye.

~~~

"How come I get punished?" I shouted across the desk to my PR officer, Francesca , as she read out of her notebook, "Im the one walking around with a black eye!"

"Charles you have to realise Max is a world champion! he has the advantage in popularity wise." she spoke calmly, looking me dead in the eye over her glasses.

"Does he fuck!" I clenched my fists, leaning over the only thing separating me from grabbing that book and ripping it to shreds, "He hit me first!"

"You retaliated, the punishments aren't even that harsh if you'd just listen." she scoffed, I sat back and crossed my arms, "And I see this as a punishment for you both."

I glanced up, then looked at my nails as I grazed my thumb over them. I didn't want to hear them, because  I wasn't going to do them.

"Over the break, they want you to attend a few press conferences together in Los Angeles," she began, my jaw dropped. No way I was doing that for a start.

"Attend a few formal gatherings together in Vegas." she nodded, "Attend a weekend of meetings together in New York City , and finally, do all of them as friends."

That last part was a little more harsh.

"No! Just no!" I shook my head, not unfolding my arms or sitting up any more, "That's like a week with that thing of a man!"

"You are lucky no cameras are in here or you'd be out." she raised her brows, they poked out of the top of them stupid glasses, "And to correct you its about 2 weeks."

"Ill end up head butting him!" I refused, "Im not doing that."

"Charles its either that or you loose your ferrari seat!" she exclaimed, finally losing the chill act, "So get your shit together, man up and stop acting like a child!"

I looked at her, frozen in place. It was like someone had dipped me in the Antarctic Ocean and left me out to freeze. Those exact words were like something out of my nightmares, besides 'box, box'.

"You what?" my mouth was hung open as I spoke, "Loose my seat?"

"You heard me, you better act like this man is your boyfriend because youre not gonna get another chance." she sighed, "I dont want to see you loose this because  of a rivalry. Charles Leclerc you better take up some acting classes."

And with that. She was out of the door, heels striking the floor so loud it echoed and books so close to her body they'd probably leave marks.

I still hadn't moved, I was scared a secret camera would pop out, say they caught every bad mouthing word I said and id be out the door.

I pulled out my phone, a text from Max pinged through.

Max🤮

Well done prick, might loose my seat because  of you

You

My fault? You gave me a black eye, because  of LAUGHING

Max🤮

Hope your plane to Los Angeles crashes🖕

For fucks sake.

~~

"Peirre you will not believe what happened!" I shouted down the phone, pacing up and down my house in Monaco with a sleepy Peirre Gasly on the other line.

"What Charles?" he sighed, I ring him almost every night with every little inconvenience in my life. It annoys him, but that's what best friends are for right?

I explained everything, top to bottom starting with stupid idiot Max Verstappen, my god awful PR officer and my 'punishments'.

"And hes blaming me!" I explained, but the other line went silent.

"Peirre?" I asked, no reply.

He must've fell asleep I thought, hanging up and was about to throw my phone on my bed but a bunch of emails came through.

PLANE TICKET TO LOS ANGELES

PLANE TIKET TO VEGAS 

PLANE TICKET TO NEW YORK

Here we go.