||its not your fault||Lestappen||

(Chapter 1)

Charles Pov

I always feel like this? why couldn't i be good at racing like Carlos? why isn't Ferrari's strategies working? why this? why that? its all confusing for me. i dont know how long i can do this for. its all my fault isnt it?

(3rd person)

Charles locked himself in his drivers room after the race in Bahrain as he thought to himself 'why couldnt i get on podium?' 'why cant i be could as good as Carlos?' 'why did i crash?' he started to breath heavily, his vision was blurry. he tried his hardest to muffle his sobs as Carlos was in the room next to him, he heard a light knock on the door. "shit." he muttered calming down slightly. "mate you good?" he heard Carlos. "Yeah, im good!" his voice was croaky and obvious. "can i come in?" Charles panicked, he was seen as a tidy person and his drivers room was a mess, tissues in his bin some with and without blood, clothes everywhere, some empty drinks and he looked a mess himself, "one second!" he muttered loud enough for his teammate to hear. he got a okay.

after he was done trying to hide the old bloody tissues in his bin, he started putting on makeup to cover a black eye he got from crashing and his puffy eyes he opens the door, Carlos didnt pay attention to his room while stepping in, taking note of the bloody tissues horribly covered and his dull eyes. "mate whats up?" Carlos looks at the shorter with pity. Charles hated pity. "nothing.." Carlos didnt believe him but pulled him into a hug, hugging him tightly as Charles was shocked while hugging him back. "you can tell me anything Charles.." Carlos whispered aware of the thin walls "im okay Carlos.." the Spaniard didnt believe the Monegasque but let it slide, his friend Max will be knowing this, he didnt care they were rivals but wanted to know if Max had said something to him. Carlos nods letting go of Charles and leaving.

Later on when Charles was now at his hotel. he had received a text from Carlos, 'hey bud wanted to know if you want to celebrate my P2 with me, Max, Checo, Lando, Pierre, and most the grid?' Charles had thought about it he needed a drink, he replies with a thumbs up and Carlos said he would pick him up in 5. Charles got ready by putting on a long sleeve sweater and shirt, fixing his hair, redoing his makeup to cover his black eye and eye bags, he then grabs his phone and waits for Carlos, the Monegasque then hears a knock at the door opening it, "hey Carlos!" he said cheerfully. acting. "hey mate" he shuts his door and follows Carlos to the Car as they head to the yacht where the celebration was held. they got onto it and immediately he felt someone glaring at him he looked at saw Max, he instantly flipped him off and headed to the bar, he got straight vodka and the gaze of Max not leaving him.. 'did carlos tell him something.?' he thinks to himself. he drank the vodka quickly feeling its affects and got another that gaze not leaving him, it was about his 5th pint of pure vodka with a slight drop of lemonade before he felt a presence next to him. Max. "why you here LeCrash.?" he felt hurt at the Dutchmans words. "fuck off." he replied with his voice going a little sharper. "someones angryyy~" Max teases him more. "drinking your guilt away?" Charles rolls his eyes at Max before getting up feeling light-headed. he had 'forgotten' to eat today. that race result had made him loose his appetite more. "Charlie you good?" Max stood by him. "im fine! and dont call me that!" he snaps, feeling tears in his eye. "woah someones mad." Max smirks at the tears in his eyes. "leave me alone!" Charles stumbled away to the edge of the yacht looking down at the water. he couldnt swim.. what if.? "Charles stop running you loser." Max's voice rang in his head. loser.? "can i be left alone!" he sighed at Max coming closer "whats got you in a pissy mood." Max stood by him. "you." Charles replied with a snarky tone. "fuckin' hell Charles." Max sighed himself. "im going back to the hotel, bye." Max watches as Charles walked away tempted to follow him but left him be knowing he already did enough.

as soon as Charles left it started to rain causing his white sweater to become s little see-through he panics as his bandages were showing slightly and ran back to the hotel. as he got to his room 6167 he got in and locked the door and started to cry. loser, Lecrash, do it. be heard a voice at the back of his head as he took his sweater off and headed straight for his blade, he took off the bandages of his 1 day old cuts and made more, he just re bandaged them not bothering to clean them, they were pretty deep.. he moved to his other arm, making more and doing the same.. he thought about doing it on his thighs again.. he did it and did the same as his arms before changing into a ferrari hoodie and shorts to cover them, he then headed to bed and started scrolling on twitter seeing all the hate, LeCrash, names being made fun of it hurt him alot. he then cried himself to sleep.

sorry its bad and not very long. sorry for cringeyness and grammar errors