(Author's POV)
The next day dawned bright and clear, the air thick with anticipation as race week in Monaco kicked off. For Charles, this wasn't just any race; it was his home race. The streets he knew by heart, the corners where he'd grown up dreaming of victory—this was where he'd felt both triumph and heartbreak too many times to count. And this year, he'd finally managed to claim pole position, his best shot yet.
(Charles's POV)
Excitement barely began to describe how I felt. Standing there in the garage, helmet in hand, my heart pounded, not from nerves but from the pure thrill of what was within reach. Pole position in Monaco... winning here was no longer just a hope; it was a real possibility. I needed this—not just for the team or the fans, but for myself. It was time to prove I could conquer my own streets.
Our chances looked solid. I'd secured first, Carlos was set to start third. This weekend could be monumental for Ferrari. Yet, just as I was about to slip into that focused headspace, I noticed Carlos walking in, looking... off. His shoulders were tense, eyes distracted. For someone who'd qualified brilliantly, he seemed miles away.
I walked over, laying a hand on his shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. "You okay there, mate?" I asked, a hint of worry creeping into my voice.
(Author's POV)
Carlos looked up, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Yeah, mate, just... a little tired. Nothing big," he replied, his tone too casual, too rehearsed. He'd gotten good at hiding the truth, burying whatever was really gnawing at him beneath a layer of forced calm. But inside, he knew the real reason behind his unease—and it terrified him. He just wasn't ready to admit it. Not to Charles, and not even to himself.
(Carlos's POV)
"Right, well... you should get ready for the race," I said, trying to sound encouraging, though my voice felt distant, detached. I forced myself to turn away, heading back to my own garage, hoping Charles wouldn't see through my thin facade.
My engineer, Ricky, started running me through the strategy, but I couldn't focus. My mind kept drifting—to Charles, to last night, to the things left unsaid. I clenched my fists, trying to push the memories away. Why him? Why now?
As Ricky continued, I realized my breathing had quickened, the weight on my chest growing heavier by the second. I felt Ricky's eyes on me, concerned.
(Author's POV)
"Carlos, are you alright?" Ricky's voice cut through his spiraling thoughts, a note of worry breaking through. Carlos blinked, forcing a shaky nod, struggling to keep himself together.
"Yeah, yeah... I'm fine," he muttered, though even he didn't believe it. "Actually, I... I need a break." Rising abruptly, he left the garage, ignoring the curious looks around him as he headed towards the nearest bathroom, his steps unsteady.
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unspoken words
Fanficnot even i know where this is going so i guess we'll see 🥲 another story( that i would hopefully finish) about charlos ⚠️THIS IS ONLY A STORY I WROTE BECAUSE I GOT BORED ⚠️ i respect both carlos and charles and i am aware thei are only teammates...
