Adrenaline: A Lestappen Story

32- Violent Delights

Abu Dahbi

Yas Marina Circuit

Race Day

These violent delights have violent ends

And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,

Which as they kiss consume. The sweetest honey

Is loathsome in his own deliciousness

And in the taste confounds the appetite.

Therefore love moderately; long love doth so;

Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.

The bustling streets of Abu Dhabi were a tapestry of vibrant red and bold blue, painting a scene of anticipation that gripped the city when the weekend dawned. It was a tale as old as time, a saga of rivalry too entangled in scrutiny to fully blossom—red against blue, two sides yearning for the same victory, yet only one was destined to emerge triumphant.

For Charles, the days following his crash in Las Vegas had been filled with endless pep talks which he knew were unnecessary. He had grown numb in his thoughts of Max, his once-lover turned bitter rival yet again— every prophecy and curse finally fulfilled. Now, there was only one pursuit that could justify the heartbreak that Charles had been forced to endure leading up to this very day. If love was not to be his life's purpose, then he would seek it in the joy of others, hoping that victory on the track would drown out the echoes of his painful heartbreak.

As the championship hung in a balance, the tension on the circuit intensified, each team avoiding the other like the plague, keeping their chosen ones away from the other, wary of the inevitable clash that awaited them on the track.

Charles was lingering around the Ferrari paddock, unable to enjoy the day haunted by the fact there was no line Max wouldn't cross to obtain the prestigious title of four times world champion. There would be no fair play and for Charles to stand a chance on track, he would have to abide by the same set of dirty rules— anything is fair in love and war.

Ferrari held their star driver in the highest regard, a treatment well guarded for royalty now being bestowed upon him. Yet, Charles was unable to take delight in his shot at the championship with the knowledge that it could be stripped away from him so easily.

With everyone wanting glimpses of him, the driver found peace in his small dressing room to avoid his own emotions from poisoning his team, preferring they stay in their bubble of preparation and enthusiasm without any worries on his behalf. They were all aware of his unusual behavior but there was nothing that couldn't be attributed to nerves and therefore they allowed him to wander to his own devices when he wasn't needed.

Surprisingly, the only one to break Charles's silence within his dressing room that day was none other than Sebastian Vettel.

The German had brought Red Bull an abundance of victories and attempted to bring that glory to Ferrari long ago, but was unable to secure the title in their name. Proving that better drivers than Charles Leclerc had tried and failed. But even that was no reassurance to Charles. Sebastian had been his first teammate and he had looked up to him with adoration, wanting to be everything that he was, not just in terms of the sport but as a person.

Having won multiple championships for Red Bull it would have been easy to understand if the veteran driver had sworn his allegiance to the blue team on that fateful day, opting to show support for the projected winner but instead found his way to the young Ferrari driver he had mentored a couple years ago.

Walking in, Sebastian had a fatherly air to him that worked as chamomile tea whenever he was present in a room. "I heard you were here," the older man commented with a calm smile, walking up to the Ferrari driver to place his hand on his shoulder. "How are you handling it all?"