Dopamine | Adrenaline Book Two

40- Blue

Whatever it is, the drive that propels one to chase a goal despite repeated failures is divine. To face rejection and persist demands a will of iron and a heart ablaze with determination. In those who bear the scars of defeat, you find the true essence of an undefeatable and unbreakable warrior.

"Thanks for coming, Charles," the older man said, taking a seat at the meeting table. "As we discussed, here are the terms of the contract." He passed a large document to the brunette, a bold "confidential" stamp across the very first page.

Charles nodded as he took the contract from the team principal, his heart rate spiking as he opened the folder and found the Ferrari logo absent from the pages. In its place was the Red Bull symbol that had adorned Max for years. Charles associated it with the other man but wasn't sure it was his to claim. He had agreed to the meeting, and before walking through the doors, he thought he was certain of his decision. Now, he wasn't so sure.

The palm of his hand became damp with sweat as he clutched the pen, staring down at the dotted line where he was meant to place his signature, securing his position with the team. As the pen touched the paper, Charles couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't making this decision for the right reasons.

Dropping the pen back onto the desk, leaving only a dot on the paper, Charles stood up with more urgency than he intended and quickly gave Christian Horner an apologetic look. "I'm feeling a little dizzy," he explained. "I'm just going to get some air and read over it one more time," he added, not wanting to admit that the opportunity might no longer interest him.

Charles was very interested in Red Bull's offer, but saying goodbye to Ferrari was something he had never expected to do. Signing his name would mean there was no turning back.

Christian, Max, and Charles' manager shared glances, wordless but understanding. They all knew that nerves had suddenly gotten the best of the Ferrari driver. When the manager prepared to rise from his chair and go after Charles, Max stopped him. He waved his hand as if to say, "Let me go talk to him," and left the room before the other man even got a chance to respond.

Outside, Max found Charles in the corridor, slowly approaching him without much rush. "What is it?" he mumbled once he had closed the distance between them, his face hovering dangerously close to Charles' cheek.

Keeping his eyes on the ground, Charles shrugged, ready to give an excuse about the room being stuffy and how he really just needed a breather. But as Max got closer, and Charles could now sense his presence without needing to look up, excuses were out of the picture. Hiding anything from Max wasn't possible, especially not when he was the only person who could hear him out and maybe understand him.

"Ferrari offered me my seat," Charles mumbled, staring blankly at his shoes and pushing back tears. "I dismissed it at first because I was hurt, but what if I'm making the wrong decision, Max?" He hoped that his boyfriend could magically tell him what the right choice was.

"I've only ever wanted to drive for Ferrari. My dad and I made that our goal. What kind of son would I be if I left it behind and gave up over one season of my feelings being hurt?" He threw another question at Max, this one a little more rhetorical. His green eyes finally moved from their spot on the ground and up to Max's blue ones. "I don't know if I can leave."

"You know I would never let Red Bull treat you badly or differently than me," Max whispered, his eyes scanning Charles' face and the sharp yet slightly feminine features that composed it. "Lewis will still be there," Max pointed out, his blue gaze focusing on the wild strands of hair on the top of Charles' head.

"What is your dream, Charles?" the blond asked, finding his green eyes. "Is it Ferrari or Formula One?"

"It's not that simple," Charles whispered, taking a step closer. "They've meant the same thing to me for so long. Max, Formula One was the goal, but driving for Ferrari was the dream." 

"And what if you get mad at me one day?" he asked, voicing a fear that he knew couldn't be ignored. "What happens then? They're loyal to you, Max, and they'll be fair to me because you've asked for it, but we wouldn't be the first people to be excited at the chance of being teammates only to watch it get sour and bitter. I don't want that for us. I won't come out of it intact."

"I'd never be mad at you," Max immediately replied, leaning against the wall beside him. He let out a long sigh as he realized those words were very debatable, given the fact he had indeed been mad at him more than once. "I don't have it in me anymore to be mad at you," the blond pointed out, looking down at the bottom of the rain jacket he was wearing, noticing it was fraying. "It was never your fault anyway," he mumbled, picking at the thread.

"You'll always be able to say you were in a Ferrari, you know?" Max said, looking at the brunette. "You've given them a championship."

"And I can give one to Red Bull next?" Charles asked, a small smile finally forming on his face as he reached for Max's hand.

Max looked to his side to meet the Monagasque's eyes, a sly smirk creeping onto his lips. "You can try," he teased.

"Can you promise me that whatever happens on the track or in meetings stays at Red Bull and we never bring it home with us? If you hate me on the track at any time, can you really promise to love me once we're home? If you can promise me that, I'll go back into that room and sign."

"I promise," he spoke with honesty, leaning in to press a gentle kiss against his cheek. "As long as you promise to not cry too much when I win," Max teased him again, playfully provoking him as he squeezed the corner of his waist.

"I can promise I'll do my best not to," Charles said, rolling his eyes playfully. "Although you calling me a crybaby for it would be nothing new," Charles added with a smile, looking around to make sure no one was near before planting a peck on Max's lips.

Charles would never know for sure if Max was making a promise he could keep; neither of them knew the future. Tensions could grow between them as teammates, but he chose to believe they would survive it, unlike others. Ferrari would be something he'd miss from time to time, but he'd done what he set out to do and won them a championship. Charles was now part of their history.

"I'll do it only because we'll be placed in the same hotels from now on," he joked, letting go of Max's hand and walking back to the room where Christian and the contract awaited.

"Oh yeah, that's the only reason they're signing you," Max joked back. "I told them it'd put me in a better mood." He accompanied Charles back to the meeting room.

Chuckling, they both walked back into the room, obviously in a better mood than before.

"Ready?" Christian smiled.

"Ready."