Same but... different (Lestappen and Carlando)

Chapter 60

Warning: Jos, homophobia, panic attack

(I promise it's the last very sad chapter)

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POV: Charles

Adrenaline is making me unable to sit down, as I pace around in Christian's office. My eyes meet Max's, and I sigh. He looks so defeated, I just want to take him in my arms and not let go until he smiles. But with these people in the room, I highly doubt it would work.

— Can anyone fucking explain what happened? Charles, what are you doing in our motorhome?

Looking up, I catch the piercing gaze of Redbull's team principal, who's eyeing me suspiciously. I take a deep breath, trying to remember why I was even there to begin with.

— I saw Max almost running in the paddock, and I wanted to congratulate him but I felt like something was wrong, so I just followed him and then... Solved an issue.

A bit of a deformed truth, as I had already congratulated the Dutchman, but it doesn't hurt anyone. And although no one explicitly said anything about Max and I's relationship yet, I fear like it's not going to be a secret for anyone in this room when we get out of it.

— He's lying, look how he aggressed me, that was his goal! The bastard named Jos suddenly says, before muttering under his breath. Shit, it hurts.

I have to do everything I can to not smile, looking once more at the result of my fury. He grabbed a tissue to stop the bleeding from his bruised nose, and I can't help but feel proud seeing the marks on his face. Just thinking of what Max has been through, it makes it all reasonable, and I should say, it's not even enough.

— Max, you've not said a word since I'm here, can you help me understand how this happened? I'd like to know if that's your way of celebrating a win, because I really don't get it.

Seeing the distress on my boyfriend's face, I try to answer in his place, but the killing look that his boss sends me makes me reconsider for a second.

— I don't know what to say, Max finally says, his voice barely audible.

He's clearly getting overwhelmed, and on the edge of a panic attack. His breathing gets irregular, and it's all too much for me. I won't stay there, on the sidelines and doing nothing, while my loved one is suffering.

— Can't you see you're all stressing him? Leave him alone, I will explain! And I have proof for whatever I'll say, anyways.

As I'm about to hug Max, who's almost curled on his chair, the irritating voice of his father breaks the silence once more.

— Tsss, can't even talk, what even is that? So now we're too weak to breathe? That's not how I raised you.

I can't believe the words this man still manages to find, to break Max even more, and look even more stupid. Seriously, who in the world talks like that about a panic attack? Which is literally a physical reaction, and irrepressible at that. I can't believe this man genuinely thinks that.

— Let the boy talk, Jos.

For once I'm grateful for Christian's words, as I go to sit down next to Max. He's still slightly shaking, and I take his hand hoping to bring him comfort.

— Before I start, you need to promise to not repeat anything, this is serious Christian. I try to sound confident, knowing there's nothing that legally forces him to stay quiet about it.

— Yeah, yeah, whatever, this is my driver and whatever happens to him is also my responsibility. Go ahead.

Gulping, I try to organise my thoughts, to explain our situation the best I can. I never thought we'd tell him like that, but I guess I don't really have a choice. And surprisingly, I feel safer to know that Jos is here. He can't do anything against us while we're watching him, at least.