Dopamine | Adrenaline Book Two

36.2- In The Other Life

"But—" Charles wanted to come up with an explanation, to convince Max that it must have been a misunderstanding. It had to be. The season had been difficult, but he had been through too much with Ferrari for them to get rid of him overnight, even if they were mad at him. They wouldn't abandon him over one slip-up of a season, especially not if he won them the championship.

Charles' face noticeably dropped, a mixture of confusion and sadness taking over him. "The race hasn't even started, they wouldn't," he whispered, looking at Max with hopeful eyes, waiting for his boyfriend to reassure him that he was right. That he must have misunderstood the two men and that Ferrari cared about him even if they were going through a rough patch.

"Max," he pleaded after another moment of silence. "Maybe he was hoping for a contract," he suggested, trying to find a possible explanation for the interaction. It didn't take long for tears to begin blurring his vision.

"Actually, Oscar didn't say much," Max explained, reviewing the situation. "He just... He seemed scared of me, in a way," he looked down at their hands, rubbing his thumb over Charles' palm. "Maybe he thought I'd do something against him to help you keep your seat."

"But I won't," Max said firmly, letting go of Charles' hand to reach for his face. "You don't need to stay with them, Charles. Come with me to Red Bull. Our car will be better next year. I've tested some of the new upgrades already, and they are amazing! I wouldn't ask you to come if I wasn't certain of it," he said, a bit of excitement in his voice, trying to give Charles some solid ground to stand on amidst the news. "If anything, we'll dominate the first half of the season next year."

Charles wanted to share Max's excitement, to daydream about the possibilities that being on the same team would bring, but the sadness of knowing his team didn't want him anymore was too much to ignore. Without warning, Charles buried his face into Max's chest, crying into the material of his suit and wrapping his arms around his waist. He was heartbroken. He'd been made to believe that winning the championship would fix everything that had gone wrong between him and Ferrari, and now he was losing them regardless of the outcome.

There was thankfulness towards Max and Red Bull for making sure he wouldn't be left stranded, but it didn't bring him as much comfort as it would have brought most people—after all, everyone simply wished to race for the team with the fastest car, and for many years Red Bull had been the best at it.

"It's the team I told my father I'd drive for," Charles said between small cries. "If I move to Red Bull, he'll never know I'm there. This was his dream for me, Max." Charles tried to explain why he was being so emotional over something that seemed so simple to others. "They don't want me because I was too much trouble this year? They prefer Lewis?" he asked, even though he knew Max couldn't provide the answers.

Realizing the depth of Charles' hurt, Max released every attempt he had made to rationalize the situation. He let go of trying to find immediate solutions and instead wrapped his arms around Charles, allowing him to shed his tears within the safety of his arms.

"It's your life, Charles," Max whispered, running his fingers across his entangled strands of hair, calmly caressing him. "Your father would want you to be happy, above all," he whispered to him, trying to soothe his lover. "Are you happy at Ferrari?"

Charles held on tighter to Max, feeling strong enough to withstand the heartbreak only because they were together. Max brought him a sense of comfort when all he could think about was what it meant to lose Ferrari. He wondered if losing Ferrari would mean losing a part of his father, too. Charles had made a promise, but the truth was that he hadn't been happy for a long time. Ferrari had discarded him numerous times, and even as he stood on the brink of winning a world title, they had ignored his concerns about the car. They were finished with him, and if he didn't leave now, they might be the end of him.