I can't .

~14~

POV Carlos:

Lando, through a friend of a friend, had managed to get us on the guest list at a local club. We still had a few days before training resumed, and I finally agreed to join him. I also invited Charles along, figuring he could use a distraction. We decided to grab dinner first.

We stepped into a cozy little pizzeria, and the smell instantly made my stomach growl. The place was warm and welcoming, the service was excellent, and the staff friendly.

"So, Carlos, what's been on your mind lately?" Charles asked, and I had forgotten that I'd mentioned to him a few weeks ago that he should just talk to Rupert.

Lando grinned, teasing, "He's in love."

"You are?" Charles shot me a curious look. Honestly, I wasn't sure how to answer. I didn't want the whole evening to focus on me either.

"I don't know what to feel," I said, shrugging. I tried to keep the tone light, not wanting to dive too deep into the topic.

The conversation went quiet for a moment, and I decided to shift the focus. "What about your dating life, Charles?" I asked, noticing the rumors online about how fast he was moving on after his breakup with Charlotte. It didn't bother me, but it would definitely take the attention off me.

"I'm good, thanks," he answered, then paused. "I don't really want to say much about it, but yeah... since it's obvious to some, I'll admit I'm having a good time with someone."

The evening dragged on, and I found myself tuning out most of the conversation. My attention shifted when I saw my phone light up. It was a notification from Instagram—y/n had posted a new picture. My heart skipped a beat as I saw her sitting at the table with George and Lewis. For a moment, I hesitated, wondering if I should comment. Instead, I quickly typed out a message asking if she was planning to go out tonight too. After hitting send, I quickly put my phone down, pretending to listen to Lando and Charles again.

POV y/n:

I'd been annoyed all evening by the constant bickering between Lewis and George. Ever since we got into the car, they couldn't agree on anything. In the end, I made the decision on where we'd eat. Once we arrived at the restaurant, we were quickly recognized, and some of the staff asked for a picture. I ended up asking them to take one of us as well, which I posted online. I didn't expect Carlos to respond so quickly, but within minutes, my phone was buzzing, and I found myself focused on it for the rest of the evening.

I was pulled from my phone when I heard Lewis and George arguing again, and this time it was about something I had hoped wouldn't come up. "Come on, Lewis, I'm with her now, and that's what the outside world should believe," George insisted.

"George, seriously, this is never going to end well, for either of you," Lewis shot back.

I had enough of their back-and-forth and decided to interrupt. "May I add something?" I said, cutting through their tension. "I don't think we need to keep up this act any longer."

Both of them gave me questioning looks. "Carlos asked if we're going out tonight. I told him you two are heading back to the hotel, and I'll meet you there. If we pretend that George and I are arguing before we leave, we'll have an excuse to end this whole charade."

Lewis started laughing. "You're completely crazy, you know that? But I see the plan. The atmosphere tonight is already pretty awful, and this way, I can cover for you both, saying you've been arguing all evening."

George looked at me, his face hard, but there was also a hint of disappointment. After a long pause, he finally agreed. I placed my hand on his for a moment, reassuring him that nothing would change between us, and that he was helping me out.

For the rest of the evening, George stayed quiet. I could tell something was bothering him, and I decided to ask Lewis if he'd keep an eye on him.

"Can you keep an eye on George for me? He seems to be struggling," I whispered.

Lewis nodded, then checked with me. "So, everyone's clear on the plan? Because if so, I'm about to pretend to walk away angrily from the table."

They both nodded, and I stood up from my seat. Walking toward the restrooms, I made sure to look as irritated as possible, noticing that others in the restaurant were now staring at us—exactly the reaction we wanted. Once I got into the restroom, I quickly replied to a message from Carlos, who sent me the address of the club they were headed to in a few minutes.

When I returned, George stood up. I shot him a glare, trying hard not to laugh. "Come on, y/n, please don't be a dick. I always do what you want, and now that I don't want to, you make it seem like the world is ending!"

"That's not true, George!" I retorted, though I could see he was struggling to get through this act. I exchanged a quick glance with Lewis, who stepped in to intervene.

"Both of you need to calm down. The entire day, you've been tearing him apart. He can't do anything right in your eyes. If that's really how you feel, then why stay with him? George deserves so much better than this. You may be my best friend, but that doesn't mean I'm going to sit back and watch you treat him like this."

I froze for a moment at Lewis's words. I could tell he was struggling too, and I realized that I had asked too much of both him and George today. This wasn't just about the act anymore—it was about something deeper.

"Maybe we should just call it quits, George," I said, my voice sharp.

"Fine by me, y/n!" he snapped back.

I shot both George and Lewis a furious look before walking out of the restaurant without another word. Outside, I hailed a cab and gave the driver Carlos's address. On the way, I quickly texted George and Lewis, thanking them for going along with everything and asking if they'd have time to talk soon. I knew this was far from over.

POV Charles:  

Although Carlos was the one who invited me to join him and Lando, I've ended up having more conversations with Lando than with him. Carlos seems distracted, his focus almost always on his phone. From the constant small smile on his face, I can guess exactly who he's talking to. Just before we head out to the club where one of Lando's acquaintances is DJing, Carlos finally asks for the address, but then quickly goes back to his phone.

When we step out of the cab at the club, Carlos seems more present again, though there's a subtle tension in his posture. "You okay, Carlos?" I ask, concerned.

"I'm more than okay," he responds, his voice sounding a bit too casual.

We follow Lando into the club, and as he pauses to chat with a security guard, I lean in and whisper, "She's coming, right?"

Carlos shakes his head slightly, and I give him a reassuring pat on the shoulder before following Lando inside. The club is packed, and immediately, people start recognizing us. A few pictures later, we're led to a quieter area by Lando.

"Carlos, are you sure you're alright? You look a little nervous," Lando remarks, echoing my own thoughts from earlier. I can't help but laugh, though I'm still curious about what's going on with him.

"y/n's coming soon, right? Do you think you can get her in?" I ask, keeping the conversation light.

"Yeah, no problem. I said I'd help, and I will," Carlos reassures us, though his nerves seem to linger just below the surface.

After a round of drinks and introductions to Lando's friend, we hit the dance floor. It's fun, and for a while, I forget about all the drama brewing in the background with the gossip online.

Eventually, we realize that Carlos is missing. At first, we don't worry about it—he's probably gone to the bathroom or gone to check on y/n outside. But something feels off. I've never seen him quite like this before.