THE ROOKIE driver ✔

Chapter 15: Summer break part two

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Matteo stepped off the plane in Italy with his heart racing—relieved to be home but also feeling a weird knot of anxiety. The last few weeks had been a complete rollercoaster, both physically and emotionally, and the thought of being back on familiar ground was a tiny ray of sunshine.

As he cruised through the streets of his hometown, he couldn't help but feel a wave of nostalgia hit. Italy had always been his anchor, the place where he'd grown up, where he'd dared to dream of racing in Formula One. The warm summer air seeped in through the car windows, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he let himself relax a little. A couple of weeks here, with some recovery check-ins online? Sounded like a dream compared to what he'd just been through.

That sense of calm, though? It didn't last long.

Pulling up to the apartment he shared with Luca, everything looked pretty normal—same old red-brick building, ivy still clinging to the walls, and that rusty old bike still chained up out front. But something felt... off. There was a tension hanging in the air, a subtle unease he couldn't shake. "You're just being paranoid," he muttered, trying to brush it off. "Chill out, Matteo."

He made it to the apartment door, but the weird feeling just kept growing. Matteo slid his key into the lock like he'd done a thousand times before, but instead of the usual click, nothing. Frowning, he pulled it out, gave it a quick once-over like it might suddenly reveal the mystery, and tried again. Still nothing. With his heart beating faster, Matteo gave the key a good jiggle, but nope, the lock wasn't budging.

Then it hit him like a punch to the gut—the locks had been changed.

What the hell? He knocked on the door, starting off gentle but quickly escalating when there was no answer. "Come on, Luca," he whispered, reaching for his phone and dialing Luca's number. Straight to voicemail. Matteo left a message, then another, each one sounding a bit more desperate than the last. Something was seriously wrong, and it was gnawing at him.

He plopped down on the stairwell steps, his bag beside him, and stared at the door. The longer he sat there, the more his mind raced, replaying every conversation he'd had with Luca lately, wondering what could've gone wrong. Why had Luca stopped talking to him? And why would he change the locks without telling him?

As the hours ticked by, the sun dipped below the horizon and the sounds of the evening—people laughing, music in the distance, cars humming by—filled the quiet street. Matteo's phone buzzed with a message, probably from Oliver or someone on the team, but he ignored it. His focus was glued to this situation.

Just as he was about to give up and grab a hotel for the night, voices echoed down the open corridor. Matteo looked up and saw Luca, stumbling along with a group of friends, laughing and talking way too loudly for someone who'd ghosted him.

Matteo stood, his heart pounding as he called out, "Luca!"

Luca's laughter abruptly stopped when he spotted Matteo standing there. For a moment, their eyes met, and Matteo saw something unsettling in Luca's gaze—anger, hurt, maybe even betrayal. The atmosphere among Luca's friends instantly shifted, tension filling the space between them.

"What are you doing here?" Luca slurred, his words heavy with alcohol and a sharp edge of hostility that cut deeper than confusion.

Matteo took a breath, trying to keep his voice steady. "I've been trying to get in. The locks are changed," he said, his heart pounding. "What's going on, Luca? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Just go inside, I need to talk with Matteo" Luca said as he looked to his friends.

Luca's friends exchanged awkward glances, clearly not wanting to bail but also not ready to cross him. As they walked past Matteo, they gave him these weird looks—half curious, half sorry, like they knew something he didn't. Matteo could feel their eyes on him, but right now, none of that mattered. His attention was glued to Luca, who finally turned around, his face cold as ice.