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GOOD ENOUGH. charlos.

you're good enough, carlos.
EN 🇬🇧 // friendship charlos ; tw angst

MAN AM I THE GREATEST ? billie ellish

NOTES 🩵

Heyyy guys, i wanted to try to write something in english as i feel like it's more natural and simple when it's written in english. i love this language sm and i really felt like writing some ferrari angst today. so enjoy something about my love carlos 🥹

"P1. Good job Carlos !" The spanish hears at the radio, happiness flowing over his body. He feels... relieved.

He feels like he had been waiting for this moment. Proving everyone that this is his year. That he deserves a seat in a good team. In a Top team.

The relief doesn't last long. Carlos remembers how hard it is to get to RB or even Mercedes. He won't have that seat. The work he gave. All for nothing, because Lewis Hamilton, the greatest, decided he wanted to try wearing red.

He gave everything to this team. All this devotion, all those hard times, all this work. All this to just end up jobless.

His heart is sinking. He can't do this. He stays a few seconds in the car, parked in front of the number one. He wants to cry. But he just swallows his tears and stand up, trying to celebrate what might be his last win with Ferrari, his team, his dream team, the team that he thought would suit him.

He thought he was doing enough.

He sees something red in the background of his vision. It's Charles. He wants to ignore him, so hurt. His pain is pushing his anger down his throat.

– Good job mate ! Says the monégasque with his hand on carlos's shoulder as a friendly manner.

But Carlos doesn't say anything, keeping his helmet on because of the emotion, he can't bring himself to remove it. Since when is he so weak ? Since when do his emotions decide what he is doing ? He was stronger than that before.

He has always been ditched by his teams. Always for someone better to come take his seat. Ferrari is the only one that gave him an opportunity without taking him as a side option.

They wanted him in red.

And now they're watching him leave.

– Carlos ?

He hears the voice of his teammate around his hears. It's ringing everywhere. Joy and happiness in the Ferrari mechanic's eyes. Carlos can't seem to be happy. He removes his helmet, letting the world discover his red eyes and swollen cheeks.

– Mate ? Charles tries, with a lower voice as he grabs Carlos's hand in a handshake.

– Sorry, Carlos mumbles, keeping his head low as he moves towards the mechanics, trying to celebrate.

They all pat him, shake him and scream in joy. He sees Rebecca in the crowd and smiles a bit, hiding the tears in his eyes. Fuck this.

Caco seemed to have notice something was wrong. But he didn't say anything. All the cameras pointed at Carlos, he just gave a soft stare at his cousin.

Carlos went in the Coolroom where he found Lewis and Charles, who were P2 and P3. He tried to smile politely, but he only felt sour about those two. Knowing the would still be able to win races next year, while he doesn't even know in what team he'll be racing.

Carlos feels sick to his stomach as he grabs the "1st place" cap. He puts it on and sits down on his chair, discussing politely with the two of them, aware that they'll be teammate next year.

Ugh.

"You really went for it Carlos" says Lewis in an impressive tone, which makes Carlos smiles a bit, before he looks down, not even able to thank the man.

Lewis jumps on the podium, as well as Charles, but when it's Carlos's turn, he takes more time to appear, his eyes redder than ever, he seems like he's about to cry at any moment, which is weird, because he never actually cried for a win.

It's not like he won many times. But he won three times. And he never cried. He only felt proud, a bit emotional. Right now, he feels a mix of sourness and embarrassment.

"Look at me winning because it might be the last time".

He heard about the former ferrari driver curse, because when they left ferrari, they never won a race after that.

What if it's true ? What if this is the last.

Carlos wants to handle himself as he always do. But when he receives the trophy, it seems like he's not even able to stand, his chin is shaky, and his vision is a bit blurry from the tears.

Fuck.

He tries to hide the tears with champagne as he celebrates with his teammate and Lewis, his eyes wandering on Charles as he feels jealousy, knowing he will stay in this red colour, while he can't get the black suit of Lewis.

Why the hell is it so hard to be good enough ? Isn't he worthy of a top team ? What can he do more ? What ? Say it.

He walks outside, after drinking lots of champagne, his eyes are sparkly and itchy, when he feels a hand on his shoulder.

Delicate.

"Hey Cahlos. Are you good ?" Charles asks, looking for an eye contact with the spanish driver.

But Carlos avoids it, rubbing his eyes.

"Yeah, why ? It's a double podium Charles" He says, trying to convince himself that it's fine. That's he's fine.

"I... I don't know you don't seem okay to me mate" Charles replies, not convinced at all.

"I am okay" Carlos repeats, anchoring his huge brown eyes i. Charles's.

"Carlos" The monégasque sighs, knowing damn well something's up.

Carlos looks down, the calm taking over the adrenaline. He feels peaceful. Peacefully hurt.

"This is probably my last win in red Charles" Carlos starts, his voice a bit shaky, which is unusual.

"You will maybe have plenty of them in the future."

Charles nods a no, disapproving about the start of Carlos's speech.

"Carlos. You will win. You don't have to be in Fer-"

"This is my Team. This is the team i dreamt of my entire life. Like you. I imagined winning a championship with this teams In red. With Ferrari. The tifosis" Carlos mutters, holding his tears for his dear life.

"Carlos..." Charles sighs, knowing he can't say much to make his mate feel better.

"I'm sorry Charles. I can't feel happy, i can't, knowing that next year this opportunity will be over. That Lewis will be in this seat. And knowing that you're happy with it" Carlos admits, sniffing.

Charles puts his hand on Carlos's arm softly.

"You deserve better Carlos. Don't ever think that i'm happy to see you leaving..." The monégasque reassures him.

"I... I'm not good enough. That's why i always get ditched. That's why I can't seem to find a seat in a good team. That's why i can't make a choic-"

"You are good enough ! Please Carlos... This doesn't mean anything. You know how cruel this sport is..." Charles mutters, feeling sorry.

"I don't wanna know... This hurts so badly Charles" Carlos admits, his tears flowing on his cheeks, loosing control over his emotions.

"Hey... Hey don't cry Carlos" Charles looks a bit surprised as he softly wipes the tears away from his teammate's cheeks.

"I'm sorry I... Sorry" Carlos nods.

"You're good enough Carlos. No one said otherwise. You're smart, fast, funny and talented. You're great" Charles says, trying to be reassuring, but he probably failed, as Carlos starts sobbing, hiding his face with his arm.

His thoughts are sobs and whines. His chest is only pain and sadness. Only one question comes in his mind :

But man.. am I the greatest ?