Enemies to lovers // C. Leclerc x C. Sainz

Chapter 5: The Monaco Meltdown

{{[SAME POV UNTIL CHAPTER 8]}}

The sun shone brightly over the picturesque streets of Monaco, casting a golden glow on the famed circuit. The Monaco Grand Prix was one of the most prestigious races of the season, and the atmosphere was electric with anticipation. Every driver knew that this track was unforgiving, with its narrow streets and sharp corners. A single mistake could spell disaster. I sat in my Ferrari, taking deep breaths as the final preparations were made. The roar of the crowd, the smell of burning rubber, and the hum of engines filled the air. This was the race I had been waiting for all season. Winning Monaco meant everything to me, since it is my home race. As the lights went out, I launched off the grid, navigating the tight corners and pushing my car to its limits. I found my rhythm quickly, and everything felt right. But that familiar, nagging tension was always there. I knew Max Verstappen was lurking somewhere behind me, and our rivalry was far from over. The laps ticked by, and I maintained a strong position. But then, in the middle of the race, as I approached the infamous hairpin, disaster struck. Max's car came out of nowhere, clipping my rear tire and sending me into a spin. The impact was jarring, and I fought to regain control as the barriers loomed closer. I managed to avoid a full collision, but my car came to a halt on the narrow track. My heart raced, adrenaline pumping through my veins. "What the hell?!" I shouted into the radio. "Max hit me!"

The team responded quickly, their voices tense. "We saw it, Charles. Can you continue?"

I took a deep breath, assessing the damage. "I think so, but I need to pit." As I limped back to the pits, I could hear Max over the radio, blaming me for the incident. "Charles braked too early. He caused it." I clenched my jaw, the anger boiling inside me. This was typical Max, always quick to deflect blame. I pulled into the pits, the team working frantically to get me back on track. The delay was costly, and I knew my chances of winning were slipping away. Back on the track, I pushed hard, trying to make up for lost time. My focus was razor-sharp, but the frustration lingered. I could see Max ahead, still in the race, his car unscathed. The injustice of it all fuelled my determination. As the race came to a close, I crossed the finish line far from where I had hoped to be. The disappointment was crushing, but the anger overshadowed everything else. I climbed out of the car, ripping off my helmet, my eyes scanning the paddock for Verstappen. I found him surrounded by his team, still maintaining that infuriatingly casual demeanour. I stormed over, my fists clenched. "Max, you can't keep doing this!" I shouted. "You hit me off the track, and now you're blaming me?"

Max turned to face me, his expression smug. "You braked too early, Charles. It's your own fault." The words hit me like a slap, and before I knew it, I had lunged at him. The next thing I felt was Carlos pulling me back, his grip firm. "Charles, stop! This isn't the way." But Max wasn't backing down either. He stepped forward, his eyes blazing. "Yeah, listen to your teammate, Charles. Maybe he can teach you how to drive properly."

I laugh. "You think i dont know how to drive? Try driving a dog, you and your partner in a Ferrari."

The tension between us was electric, the paddock going silent around us. Max and I stared each other down, neither willing to back off. I could feel the paddock going silent around us. Max and I stared each other down, neither willing to back off. I could feel the anger boiling up again, ready to explode.

Carlos and Checo quickly stepped in between us, their hands on our shoulders, trying to diffuse the situation. "Enough, both of you," Checo said firmly, his voice a mix of authority and concern.

But Max wasn't done. He stepped forward, shoving Checo's hand away. "He needs to learn," Max spat, his eyes locked on mine.

"Back off, Max," Carlos warned, his grip tightening on my arm. "This isn't helping anyone."

"Stay out of it, Carlos," Max snapped, his frustration evident.

Before I could respond, Max threw another punch, this time hitting me square in the face, causing my nose to bleed. The pain was sharp, and I stumbled back, feeling blood trickle from my nose. Carlos reacted instantly, pulling me away while Checo restrained Max. "Enough!" Carlos shouted, his voice filled with frustration. "This has to stop!" Max struggled against Checo's hold, his eyes still locked on mine. "He needs to learn his place." 

"You're the one who needs to calm down, Max," Checo said, his voice steady. "This isn't how we solve things."

Carlos turned to me, his eyes filled with concern. "Charles, let's go. Now."

As Carlos guided me away, my mind was a whirlwind of emotions. The confrontation with Max, the pain in my face, and the tension of the crowd watching us—all of it was overwhelming. Carlos kept a firm grip on my arm, guiding me back to the Ferrari garage. As soon as we were out of earshot, Carlos turned to me, his expression a mix of concern and frustration. "Charles, you can't keep doing this. You're letting him get to you." I nodded, feeling the sting of the punch and the humiliation of losing my cool in front of everyone. "I know, Carlos. I just...I can't stand him."

Carlos sighed, running a hand through his hair. "We need to find a way to deal with this. You can't let your emotions control you, especially not here."

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. "You're right. I'm sorry."

Carlos placed a hand on my shoulder, his grip reassuring. "We'll figure it out. Just remember, we're a team. We look out for each other." As the evening wore on, I reflected on the day's events. The anger, the confrontation with Max, the punch—it was all too much. But Carlos was right. I needed to find a way to control my emotions, to channel that intensity into something productive. Carlos turned to me, his eyes filled with concern. "Charles, let's get you cleaned up and checked out. You're bleeding pretty badly."I touched my nose, feeling the warm blood trickling down. My lip ached, and I could feel it swelling. The adrenaline was wearing off, leaving me feeling drained and in pain. Carlos guided me away from the scene, his grip gentle but firm. As we made our way through the paddock, I could see the worried glances from the team and other drivers. I tried to ignore the embarrassment, focusing instead on getting away from Max and the chaos. Once we were in the relative privacy of the Ferrari garage, Carlos examined my face, his brow furrowed with concern. "We need to get you to a hospital, Charles. Your nose might be broken."

I nodded, the pain becoming more pronounced. "Yeah, let's go." Carlos didn't waste any time. He grabbed his car keys and led me to his vehicle. The drive to the hospital was quiet, the tension from the paddock still hanging heavy in the air. I was grateful for Carlos's presence, his calm demeanour helping to steady my frayed nerves. At the hospital, the staff quickly took me in for examination. Carlos stayed by my side, offering support and reassurance. The doctor confirmed that my nose was broken and needed to be set, and they cleaned up the cuts and bruises on my face .As I sat in the examination room, feeling the sting of antiseptic and the dull ache of my injuries, Carlos pulled up a chair and sat next to me. "You're going to be okay, Charles. Just try to take it easy." I managed a small smile, appreciating his support. "Thanks, Carlos. I don't know what I would have done without you." He gave me a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "We're a team, remember? We'll get through this together." The doctor finished up, giving me instructions on how to care for my injuries and prescribing some pain medication. As we left the hospital, the weight of the day's events began to settle on me. The confrontation with Max, the public display of anger, the injuries—it was all overwhelming. Carlos drove us back to the hotel, the ride silent but comfortable. When we arrived, he walked me to my room, making sure I had everything I needed. "Get some rest, Charles," he said gently. "We'll talk more tomorrow." I nodded, feeling the exhaustion pulling at me. "Goodnight, Carlos. And thanks again." He smiled, a warm and supportive expression. "Anytime. Take care." As I lay in bed that night, the events of the day replayed in my mind. The confrontation with Max, the unexpected escalation, Carlos's unexpected and calming support—it was all too much to process. But one thing was clear: I needed to find a way to control my emotions and focus on what truly mattered. The road ahead was challenging, but with determination and resilience, I knew I could face it. The game had changed, but I was still in it to win. And with Carlos by my side, I knew I could overcome any obstacle. The Monaco Grand Prix had been a harsh lesson, but one that I needed to learn. The road ahead was challenging, but I was ready to face it with determination and resilience. The game had changed, but I was still in it to win. And with Carlos by my side, I knew I could overcome any obstacle.