Coming Home - A Lestappen Story

Last Night

Charles could have slept for another hour at least, but the blaring noise of his alarm clock ensured that could not happen. Charles let out a grunt before slamming his hand against the alarm clock, rendering its incessant noises mute. 

"Fuckkkk" Charles muttered, as he rubbed his forehead. A massive migraine had taken control of his head overnight, he looked over to where he thought his girlfriend would be sleeping. However, Alexandra had already went out for the day with her friends, a fact that at first, Charles did not even recognize. 

The absence of Alexandra was a constant in Charles' day to day life, but Charles never really minded. They were both content with living their lives apart like they had been doing for months.

Before Charles even had a moment to compose himself, a loud knock banged against the hotel door. The young driver was still dressed in his clothes from last night, which reeked more of alcohol than the monegasque did. Charles pulls himself out of bed and stumbles over to the hotel door. He opens it and is met with that of Fred Vasseur, the team principal of Ferrari. 

"Hi Charles. How are you feeling after that party, eh?" Fred said, his accent prevalent. Charles rubbed his reddened eyes, as he tried to understand why Fred Vasseur was doing at his door this early. "It was great Fred. Did something happen, why are you here?" 

"Oh nothing important, just wanted to let you know that some of the drivers are going out for lunch. The plan was breakfast but everyone is so hungover." Fred says. "You kids don't know how to handle alcohol! I drank more than most of you, and I feel nothing." He says before letting out a laugh, drunkenly loud enough to wake anyone else adjacent to Charles' room. 

Charles was surprised that everyone was going out for lunch after a party like that, but as Fred mentioned food, Charles' stomach let out a growl that shook the very floor he stood on. "I could eat." Charles replied before saying a quick goodbye to Fred and closing the door. Considering he hadn't ingested much of anything other than alcohol last night, Charles was more than happy to put the energy together to eat. 

The monegasque picked his phone up from the nightstand and turned it back on. The night before, he had turned it off to avoid all of the notifications. When his phone powered back on, the first notification that popped up was from no other than Max Verstappen.

Message from Max (6 Hours ago):  "Thanks. Congrats are in order for you as well I suppose."

Charles, with the speed of that of a gazelle, plopped himself down onto the bed and replied. "Thank you! Sorry I fell asleep lol, the alcohol hit me pretty hard."

To his surprise, Max read the message and began typing immediately. Charles smiled as he set his phone down on the bed as he decided it was probably a good time to start getting ready for the impromptu lunch that he had been invited to. He grabbed a red Ferrari shirt from his suitcase, and a pair of black shorts that he had definitely already worn a few days ago.

Charles walked back to his phone and saw that Max had responded to his message. "All good"

"All good?" Charles read the text out loud to himself. "It took him that long to send that?" He said in an almost irritated tone, hoping that Max would try to strike up a conversation, as Charles was seriously interested in how Max's father reacted last night. 

-

Max was pulled awake from his sleep by the vibrations of his phone. In reality, Max had not slept all that well. His mind wandered from nightmare to nightmare about his father, especially the things that he had told him the night before. 

The Dutch driver reached over to grab his phone off of the nightstand, and was surprised to see Charles replying so early in the morning. He unlocked his phone and began to reply