𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴~ Lestappen

A Misfire of Emotions

Max had been on edge all day, and it showed. It was one of those days where everything seemed to irritate him—the traffic on the way to the track, the fact that his race suit felt just a little too tight, and, most of all, his dad.

Jos had been on Max’s case since morning, criticizing everything from his qualifying pace to the way he handled the media. The words “you’re getting soft” had been thrown around more than once, and each time, Max’s frustration inched closer to the surface.

By the time he got back to the apartment, his hands were clenched into fists, his jaw set so tight it hurt. Charles was already home, sprawled on the couch with his usual calm, reading something on his phone. The sight of Charles just relaxing there, completely unbothered, almost made Max want to scream. How could he be so chill while Max felt like he was about to explode?

“Hey, Max,” Charles said, looking up with a small smile. “You good?”

“No,” Max muttered, kicking off his shoes a little too hard. They flew across the room and hit the wall with a thud, but Max barely noticed.

Charles raised an eyebrow, closing his phone. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” Max snapped, storming past the couch and into the kitchen. He yanked open the fridge, staring at its contents like he was about to pick a fight with a carton of milk.

Charles got up slowly, sensing the tension rolling off Max in waves. “Are you sure? You don’t seem okay.”

Max slammed the fridge shut. “I said it’s nothing, okay?”

Charles blinked, taken aback by the sharpness in Max’s voice. It wasn’t like him to snap, at least not at Charles. Sure, Max had a short fuse when it came to racing, but at home, they rarely fought. Charles stood in the doorway of the kitchen, watching as Max paced back and forth, clearly wrestling with something.

“What’s going on?” Charles asked, keeping his voice gentle, but there was concern in his eyes. “Did something happen with your dad?”

That question seemed to hit a nerve. Max froze, his back to Charles, his shoulders tensing even more. He turned around abruptly, his face flushed with anger, but the words that came out were directed at the wrong person.

“Why do you always have to ask so many questions, huh? Can’t you just leave it alone for once?” Max’s voice was louder than he intended, sharp enough to cut through the air between them.

Charles’s face fell, the hurt flashing across his eyes almost immediately. He hadn’t expected Max to lash out at him, and the sting of it hit harder than Max probably realized.

“Max, I’m just trying to—”

“I don’t need you trying to fix everything, okay? You don’t understand what it’s like! My dad’s constantly on my case, and I’m sick of it!” Max shouted, his frustration pouring out uncontrollably. But the moment the words left his mouth, he saw the way Charles flinched, and a pang of regret hit him like a punch to the gut.

Charles stood there for a second, his expression torn between wanting to help and wanting to protect himself from whatever this was. He opened his mouth to say something, but then stopped. His eyes softened, but there was a distance now, one that hadn’t been there before.

Max’s anger deflated as fast as it had risen. He realized what he’d done—yelled at the one person who’d always been in his corner. He hadn’t meant to, but it was too late now. The damage was done.

Charles cleared his throat, his voice quieter now. “I get that you’re upset, Max, but… I’m not your dad.”

That sentence landed like a cold slap of reality. Max felt his chest tighten with guilt. Charles wasn’t the one who deserved this. He never was.

Max ran a hand through his hair, feeling the weight of his own anger and frustration start to crush him. “I know,” he muttered, his voice low now. “I know you’re not.”

For a long moment, neither of them said anything. Max stared at the floor, unable to meet Charles’s eyes, while Charles stood there, arms crossed, clearly trying to figure out what to say next. Max had always been intense, but this? This was different.

Finally, Charles spoke again, his voice calm but firm. “I get that your dad is tough on you. I’ve seen it. But that’s not a reason to take it out on me. I’m not your punching bag, Max.”

Max winced. He knew Charles was right. He’d let his emotions get the better of him, and now he was paying the price for it. The worst part was that Charles wasn’t even angry—he was just hurt, and that hurt more than if he’d yelled back.

Max swallowed hard, his throat tight. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Charles didn’t say anything at first. He just stood there, watching Max with those thoughtful, green eyes that seemed to see right through him. Max hated feeling this exposed, but he knew he couldn’t run from it.

“I didn’t mean to yell at you,” Max continued, finally looking up at Charles. “I just… I had a fight with my dad, and I’m so tired of him treating me like I’m not good enough. And then I come home, and you’re here, and I guess I just—” He broke off, struggling to find the right words. “I messed up.”

Charles’s expression softened slightly, though there was still a trace of sadness in his eyes. “Max, I know it’s hard. Your dad’s tough, and it gets to you. But you don’t have to carry that alone. I’m here for you, but you can’t push me away every time things get hard.”

Max nodded slowly, feeling like an idiot. “I know. I’m sorry,” he repeated, his voice more earnest this time. “I didn’t mean any of it.”

Charles stepped closer, his arms uncrossing, and for a second, Max thought he might get another well-deserved scolding. But instead, Charles just sighed and put a hand on Max’s shoulder, squeezing it lightly.

“Look, we’re a team, okay? You don’t have to deal with all this alone. And maybe, just maybe, you can stop trying to be so perfect all the time.”

Max let out a shaky breath, his muscles finally starting to relax. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve someone like Charles in his life, someone who could take all his mess and still stick around.

“I don’t know how you deal with me,” Max muttered, a small, self-deprecating smile creeping onto his face.

Charles chuckled softly. “Trust me, I ask myself the same question sometimes. But I figure someone’s gotta keep you from spiraling.”

Max gave a weak laugh, the tension between them easing at last. “Yeah, well, you’re better at it than I deserve.”

Charles shook his head. “You deserve a lot more than you think, Max.”

For the first time that day, Max actually believed him.