Charlos || Charles Leclerc x Carlos Sainz Jr.

Australia

"You're becoming the next Bottas. Sonic the Hedgehog looking ass!" The comment rang in the back of Carlos's mind. Usually he could ignore the jeers of the crowd, but something about this insult stuck. It wasn't that he was scared of looking like Sonic the Hedgehog, he knew he did and had already come to terms with it. It was the Bottas comment that got him. He was becoming the new Bottas. The losing teammate. The forgettable one. The worst part about it was that it made him hate Charles. The words formed a big pit in his stomach as he tried to skirt around what he felt. Envy. There was no honor in envy. And how could he envy his friend? It was so much more malicious than jealousy.

He stuffed his helmet on and stepped into his car, 4 rows behind his teammate. P9. He tried not to think about how far back he was. What did Charles think of this? Was there pity? Was there ego? Did he think about him at all? He tried to push this aside as the countdown began.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

AND IT'S LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO.

DECENT START FROM CHARLES LECLERC.

You're the next Bottas you skanky hoe.

LECLERC THROUGH FROM VERSTAPPEN.

He's doing so well. Aren't you angry?

CARLOS SAINZ BOGGED DOWN THERE BEHIND THE FAST STARTING FOR ONCE ALFA ROMEO OF VALTERI BOTTAS.

Why can't you just be happy for him?

BUT NOW AT TURN ELEVEN CARLOS SAINZ, HE'S STRUGGLING A BIT IN THESE OPENING LAPS AND BARGING WHEELS WITH MICK SCHUMACHER. SAINZ TRIED TO GO AROUND THE OUTSIDE, REMEMBER SAINZ AND ALONSO ON THE HARD COMPOUND TYRE.

Sonic the hedgehog looking motherfucker. Can't do anything right. You'll never be like him. He clung to the steering wheel as the car whipped around. Now look at what you've done.

THAT IS CARLOS SAINZ, WHO LOOKS LIKE HE'S BEACHED THAT FERRARI IN THE GRAVEL ON THE EXIT OF TURN TEN.

The announcer kept announcing as Carlos sat in the car, too exhausted to move. He blinked back tears.

PASSED MICK SCHUMACHER AND THEN, WOAH, HE'S GOING A LITTLE BIT TOO HOT, COULDN'T KEEP IT ON THE TARMAC, AND THAT GRASS NOT EXACTLY GRIPPY, EVEN THOUGH WE HAVEN'T HAD MUCH RAIN AROUND HERE.

YES, HE'S GONE IN A LITTLE BIT DEEP, HAD TO TURN IN AND CORRECT TO SLIDE ACROSS THE GRASS, AND HE'S HAD A MISERABLE, MISERABLE WEEKEND.

Looking back at the scene, Carlos would have agreed, it was miserable.

🏎 🏎 🏎

Sitting at the pit wall, Carlos tried to be happy for Charles, he really did. It wasn't only the excessive amount of red that was making it difficult, it was the fact that the fan was right. He was the worst teammate. He stared numbly at the screen in front of him, the cars flying by. Charles was winning. He tried not to think about how nice it would be if he spun out, or hit a wall, or crashed into someone else. He immediately felt guilty for thinking these things and resorted to picking the seam of his pants to distract himself.

He went to get water. He chatted with some of the engineers. He played fruit ninja on his phone. Nothing he did could get his mind off of Charles. He surrendered and sat back down at the pit wall. Charles was still in first and Carlos contented himself with imagining the floor caving underneath him, swallowing him whole to take him away from everything.

A cheer erupted from the other men at the pit wall, all clad in offensively bright red. Carlos looked up to find that Charles had just made the fastest lap of the race. He applauded too. First, out of social obligation, but then he heard Charles cheering through the microphone. Despite himself, Carlos smiled. All envy was forgotten the moment he heard him laugh. He was happy when Charles was happy.