LOVE OR RIDE | LESTAPPEN

chapter fifteen - dark blue promises

Daniel

"How is he doing?" I hear a worried voice in my earpiece as I look at Max, who is standing on the bow of the ship, leaning against the railings, and with a smile on his lips and his eyes closed he just stands there carefree, letting the wind ruffle his arranged hair, swirl his shirt and hit him right in the face. He looks like a small, innocent child with no problems, bad days or cruel thoughts. The problem is that he didn't experience this as a kid, so it's not currently on his mind. But I know he feels free of everything at the moment.

"Momentarily better." I say truthfully. My friend the other day stood all soaked in front of my door, his tears mixing with the rain that was falling. I remember him talking chaotically, tangling in sentences. At first I didn't understand anything, but then he said it again, much more calmly, and I immediately ran to the store to get some unhealthy food.

I tried to comfort him, but it didn't help at all. I know perfectly well why. He had been hurt again by the person he had decided to trust a second time, and ended up the same as the first time. He was hurt, ridiculed, trampled and razed to the ground. In one second from having a good attitude towards Charles, I felt hatred, but it passed in time, because I realized that although he shouldn't be like this for Max, then he had a bad time. And he continues to have it, because even though he knows he did wrong and keeps asking about the Red Bull driver, he hasn't decided to apologize, come and talk, and it's been a long time. It has been several races since that incident, and I have always tried to be next to my friend to make him feel better. Things haven't been very good lately. His dad was in an accident and is lying in the hospital after surgery, he has quarreled with his sister as well as his mom, and Christian is militant towards him after he defended Charles. It was just me and Lando left, because the other drivers stick with Leclerc, and when Leclerc doesn't talk to Verstappen, neither do they. Fucked up.

"Can we do something?" he asks me again.

"Rather... No. I think we did everything we could. They're adults, we can't make such important decisions for them." I say frankly.

Tomorrow is the race. Immediately after qualifying, Max and I went to my yacht to swim and clear our thoughts. It does a good job, I know from experience.

"Charles will be at the race." He says suddenly.

"Do you think..."

"I hope so." Pierre interrupts me. "I have to go, see you later." He hangs up before I can answer.

This whole situation has taken its toll on all of us. And most of all on these two, who have not spoken to each other for more than three weeks. Everything is so strange, although I try to pretend that everything is fine. I'd most like to start yelling for them to get over themselves, but I know it's not Max's fault and he shouldn't be the first to go to the Ferrari driver.

"Are we going back?" I look at the boy, who stands turned toward me, looking at me intently.

"Yes," I smile, getting up from my chair.

Charles

Every morning I feel remorse. Every day I get up with the thought that I made the worst mistake and this time he won't forgive me. This is the second time I've messed up what I wanted to fix. I feel disgusted with myself, from the moment Pierre came to me at the hospital and started pointing out what I did wrong. He was not gentle. He shouted, he challenged, he was cruel, but it was necessary for me to stop being blinded. I realized very quickly what I had done wrong. As soon as I was discharged, he wanted me to talk to him, but I chickened out.

I'm a coward, and I've been living with it for days, looking at my phone every day, hoping someone will dial it for me and I'll have no turning back, but that's not happening.