Hate to race

Monaco

Max had returned to Monaco feeling drained, both mentally and physically, after the chaotic week in Saudi Arabia.

He barely unpacked his bags before collapsing on his couch, staring at the ceiling, his mind racing.

Despite the victory, something gnawed at him, pulling him back into the darker parts of his mind.

The past few days had been rough, and he couldn't shake the feeling of being exposed, vulnerable.

Charles had gotten under his skin again, and it irritated him more than he cared to admit.

As the week progressed, Max slipped further into his shell.

He spent most of his time alone, barely leaving his apartment, avoiding calls and texts, even from Daniel.

By Friday, he wasn't in the mood for anything, let alone a party.

But Daniel wouldn't let it go.

"Come on, mate. You need to get out of this funk," Daniel had said over the phone.

"It's at a friend's place, nothing crazy. You don't even have to stay long."

Max had hesitated.

He didn't feel like being around people, especially not now.

But the idea of Daniel seeing how far he'd slipped worried him.

He knew Daniel would push harder if he didn't show up. So reluctantly, Max agreed to go for an hour, promising himself he wouldn't stay any longer than that.

He could use a drink.

.

Meanwhile, Charles had spent the week back in Monaco trying to keep busy, doing anything to avoid thinking about the mess with Max.

Their fights weighed heavily on his mind, and despite how much he hated Max, it left a bad taste in his mouth.

Still, he couldn't let himself get distracted.

He had to focus on Australia, and pushing aside anything to do with Max was the only way he could do that.

On Friday, Pierre had called, insisting they go to a party together. Like Max, Charles didn't really feel like going out.

He hadn't been in the mood for social events for a while, but Pierre could be persuasive.

After a lot of back-and-forth, he finally agreed, more out of obligation than genuine interest.

.

That night, the party was in full swing by the time they arrived.

Loud music filled the air, and the house was packed with people, most of whom Charles didn't know.

He stuck close to Pierre, forcing a smile here and there, but his mind wasn't in it.

Across the room, Max stood by himself, drink in hand, staring out a window.

He hadn't expected Charles to be here.

Of course, he should have known Pierre would drag him out, but it still caught him off guard.

Seeing him immediately put Max on edge, but he quickly turned away, focusing on the city lights outside.

He had promised himself he wouldn't let Charles ruin his night—though truthfully, he didn't even want to be there to begin with.

Charles spotted Max from across the room, and for a moment, their eyes met.

The tension was instant, thickening the air between them. Charles felt his irritation rise, just seeing Max standing there like nothing had happened.