without you - max verstappen x charles leclerc

-Why-

TRIGGERWARNING - in this chapter there is gonna be some sesitive topics as self-harm, and anxiety attacks if you find these theme uncomfetable you can skip this part

Charles Leclerc

Its the 2023 season. Last season was really disappointing. I crashed a lot and my team kept fucking the strategies up. I thought that this season is gonna be beter but it's the same shit again. Everybody says that it's my fault that Ferrari is in a bad season but I really really try.

It's the Dutch Grand Prix and lets just say, it was disappointing....I had a touch with Piastri and had damage on my front wing. I tried to push as hard as possible but it didn't work and i had to retire the car.
I'm sitting in my drivers room watching the podium ceremony. And of course Max Verstappen won. Again. I hated him so much. Still after all these years.
Every time I get a bad result i get compared with him. Like im fucking trying ok?!.

I need to go to the media pen so i start to walk to the area. The first interviews went wel, they asked me about the touch and how i feel about the season and ferrari. I told them that im definitaly not gonna leave Ferrari in the upcoming season or seasons. I was happy about the interviews, they only asked about ferrari and the DNF so nothing special for me.

I went to the last interviewer. It was a tall man. Dark brown hair, blue eyes and a lot of tattoo's. "So charles, what happend with Piastri totday?" he asked. "We touched in the first lap, i had damage on my front wing. It wasnt to bad that i couldnt drive further. I tried to push the car to his limit but because of the damage we were really slow. It seems that there was damage on a very important part of car. I just couldnt hold the pass we had so i decided together with the team to retire the car and just stop the race." i anwered, i was a bit proud of my own answer tho. "So you just retired the car, eventough you know that you could have driven the race till the end?" the reporter asked a bit dissapointed and discusted. I didnt know what to say so i just nodded my had a bit scared of the man that was standing in front of me. "you know other drivers like verstappen would have just drove the race and push the car further." And as always i get compared to max again. Normally it didnt border met that much as it does know. "yeah maybe but i didnt because it wouldnt had any success". "Max wouldnt give up this easily. So why did you give up. I mean you guys are the same age, love the same things. So why do you give up and he doesnt? Maybe its just you know that he is better and that you would never be on his level." the reporter snapped at me. I couldnt do this right know. I couldnt do anything right now. I felt how my eyes were getting watery and my trought was getting tight. My hands were starting to shake. I felt the panick attack coming and i couldnt do anuthing about it. If i would speak now i know for sure that people would here that i am about to cry. So i just walked away fast. Really fast.

I run to my drivers room not wanting to let people see me like this. I cant, i just cant anymore. Why are people consantly comparing me to max. And why do they hate me so much. Poeple only like max because he is a two time world champion. He is always beter, always. I feel the tears rolling down my cheeks as i look my door and fall to the ground. I cant do this anymore. My breathing starts to go faster, my tears are burning on my face, my hand are shacking and i cant think straight anymore. I get myself toghter and walk to the bathroom as i search for something in the drawer. And finally i got it. As i unwrap the brand new blad i take of my race suit and fire proofs. As i lay on the floor in the bathroom, i put the blade on my stomach just under my ribs. As i cut trough my skin i start to cry even harder. I frown my face of the feeling of pain and my warm blood dripping down my stomach. I cut a few more time before i lay the blade next to me on the ground.

I take some toilette paper and for the first time i look down to my stomach. My whole stomach is coverd in blood and i start to feel a bit dizzy. I start to clean everything as suddenly there is a knock on the door. 'Shit' i whisper to myself as i try to put on a shirt without letting it drain in blood of my stomach. As i open the door trying to hide my red puffy eyes from crying. It was Carlos my teamate. "Hey mate, i saw you running away from the media so i thought i just check on you for a sec, so are you ok?" carlos asked me, "yeah of course im just dissapointed because of the race you know" i tried to sound as careless as possible. Carlos looked at me suspicious as if he didnt believed me. I also wouldnt belief him if he looked the way i look right know. "You sure it looks like you've been crying" I tried to answer directly but my fresh cuts that were rubbing against my shirt were killing me right now. "yeah its fine, i didnt cry its just that im a bit sick so i better go to sleep now, i see you later" i closed the door as fast as possible because i could feel that there was some fresh blood in my shirt. I fell down against the door trying to let the bleeding finally stop.