A busy year
George was meditating. It wasn’t the season he wanted. After his first win last year, he thought he would stay up there. He knew how fast Redbull and Max are, but he set a goal of a win and four podiums for himself. He didn’t reach his goal for this year, but as the season progressed, the better he was. His life had a lot of other twists and turns this year. When the season began, he never thought he would be sitting alone in his suite every night. He didn’t think he would change religion or lose a child. He didn’t expect any of these things. He didn’t expect to get to know Lance the way he did. They had met a couple of times for golf. He wasn’t sure if he could call themselves friends, but they definitely got to know each other. Lance seemed to open up.
Daniel just closed his laptop, having ended the facetime just a minute earlier. At the beginning of the year, he thought he could never be with someone other than Max. It took him a while to find out that he had clung to a past that was long gone, that he clung to a desire, not a relationship. Now he was dating an amazing woman. A mum, and tried to find his place in the family. He knew he isn’t the father or the dad. An uncle like thing, maybe? But then on the other hand, does it really need a name? Mum’s boyfriend maybe didn’t sound perfect, but they were happy and that was the most important thing anyway. Oscar had gotten over his initial dislike of their relationship, which was a big plus, as he didn’t think he could ever push himself between a mother and her child.
Lando looked at Oscar. He was sleeping, curled against his chest. Breathing deeply. When he had signed up with the agency last year, he knew he could find a mate, but he never thought his life would change this much in a year. Oscar was everything. His love, his life, his air, his safe place. Even with all the questionnaires, he didn’t think they would find someone that fit him this good. They both grew so much. He had won his first race and now won the championship. Oscar grew from a silent and introverted omega to a business owner, with friends and connections. He still has his silent times. He is not a social butterfly. That was his job. Oscar balanced him out. And he was with his children. Their pups. Next year would get even crazier.
Charles stood in front of the big window front, looking over the city. A year ago, his manager called him, almost crying. Saying that he had gotten a call from Fred Vasseur, that he wanted him to drive in F1. The alpha’s den. Where betas would be just tolerated most of the time. He had expected aggression, fighting, the drivers to be against him, singling him out, looking down on him. Then he thought Lando would be an exception, saving him from those alphas before the first race. Then he met the others. Some he got to know more, some less. Then there was Max. Sweeping him off his feet, stealing his heart and letting him experience things he never thought he would discover. His brother was karting. His mum was dating an alpha he thought was an ass. How wrong he was about Lawrence. The damage his mate’s death had on him wasn’t visible to him. It was now. He was alright with it now. Lawrence was different than his own father Herve was, by far. That wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, though. He was good to his mum and good to his brother. He respected boundaries and Charles’ apprehension at the beginning. Penelope pulled on his pants.
“Up” she demanded and Charles picked her up, setting her on his hip.
Max stood a couple steps back, leaning against the doorframe, watching Charles. His boyfriend. The person he loved and who loved him back. With his daughter. With his past. With his baggage. Who liked his desires and was open to his fantasies. A racer. An amazing racer. A man he had been pining over for months until he stood in front of his door one day, starting a whirlwind romance that turned into a relationship. Extremely different from Kelly, not just because of the gender. They were totally different people. And Penelope liked him.
Carlos could hit himself. Throw himself off a bridge, off a building, jump in front of a bus, whatever. None of it would turn the time back. Jealousy was deadly. In his case, it killed his career. Probably forever. He had let his jealousy towards Oscar take over his mind, his body, his soul. Ignoring him and shoulder checking him had been one thing. Walking into Lando’s room, trying to convince him, trying to force him, that was something else. That was vile. It was something he could never come back from. His friends had turned their backs. His father had cut contact when he found out. He would never forget the disgusted look on his father’s face. The disbelief on his mother’s. His cousin, who was also his manager had quit their contract, their business and their private relationship. He had lost everything. He had called around, searching for management. Searching for employment, searching for a team. No one would take him. Not WEC, not DTM, no Asian series, not IndyCar. Racing was all he knew, was all he wanted, all he lived for and he had destroyed it. It didn’t go public, but everyone in the racing world knew. He had even called in Southern America, thinking maybe with the Spanish he could get his foot in somewhere. The sixth call he made he was told that no person in their right mind would take Sergio Perez and his family as their enemy on purpose. That’s when he realized how much influence the Mexican had on that continent. He was over. He was done.
Pierre closed the facetime call on his phone, laying on his bed. His mate had been tired. His wife. His Kika. Who she would always be. And they had their little puppy. Finally. Two years of hoping, praying, being scared that he wouldn’t be able to give her the thing she desired most. Motherhood. And then it happened. Just like that. After two years of trying she got pregnant. Their little Anthoine. Named after his late best friend. She had suggested the name. He had thought she wouldn’t want that. Giving their child the name of a deceased person. His best friend and roommate, who died racing. Doing what Pierre did. What Pierre loved, almost as much as her. They had made a promise, a couple weeks before the birth. She could call it. If she would reach a point at which she couldn’t handle him racing anymore, she was free to call it to end. No further questions asked. In return, she gave the promise to stop having pups if he should ever get the feeling their nest would get too full, although he didn’t think that would happen.
Alex was in his bed, looking over the city. At the beginning of the year he was with George, in love. Then life happened. The pregnancy, the accident, the miscarriage, the therapy, the realization. George and his expectations. His pressure. His Mercedes lifestyle. Always perfect. Always clean-cut. Goody two shoes. Blazer and loafers. He hadn’t realized how much he himself had changed until his therapy in rehab. His clothes changed. His lifestyle changed. His behaviour changed. He had gotten fixated on his form, his looks. George did that to him. He influenced him and tried and bend him into a Mercedes form. A Mercedes driver’s trophy wife. Sam was different. He wasn’t free of faults. He himself admitted that. He was honest. He had mistakes, he made mistakes.
“Here, you should eat more fruit.” Sam smiled, handing him a bowl with fruit salad.
“Thank you.” Alex said and sat up, starting the fruit.
“It’s going to be okay.” Sam smiled at him “The car isn’t the fastest, but I trust you to do your best.”
“Yeah” Alex agreed.
“Should I stay here, again?”
“I think it would be better.” Alex said “I’m sorry for dragging you with me but now confining you here.”
“Don’t worry, I knew when I came with you. I will go to the pool or something, do some research for work and then watch the race. I’ll be good.” Sam said, taking the empty bowl from him. Alex took a shower and got himself ready, saying goodbye with a kiss. Sam looked after him until the door closed, then dropped his smile and stepped towards the window, looking down. He pulled out his phone.
“Yes?” someone asked.
“He’s on his way now.” Sam said, watching Alex climbing into his car “He doesn’t suspect a thing.”
“Did you give it to him?”
“In his food, should be good for now. You know this is going to be a lot of work during the break.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll stick to the payment.”
“He’ll stop eating out of my hand if you don’t.” Sam said and hung up, turning away from the window and sitting down in front of the tv.
Yuki hopped off the counter. Stupid hotels. They always put the bigger glasses in the top drawers. Maybe he should make one of these weird wish lists for hotels. He was asked to make one when he joined F1. Max convinced him it was a joke thing every rookie gets. He had put down that he needed a living baby pig and three mouldy onions. The hotel had done it. It was the worst smell you could imagine. Max had the laugh of his life, but Yuki punished him by sleeping on his couch for that race. Now he would leave RB. His home. To go to Alpine. To prove to himself and everyone else that he belonged into F1. That he deserved a seat. That he wasn’t just here because of the Honda engines. It will be a fight. Everything he does will be watched by hawks, also known as the French. He took the seat from a Frenchman. That’s what at least a couple papers thought, even though it wasn’t true.
Ollie had tried on the McLaren shirt. Worn it for a photo shoot. He had looked too pale. Almost like a ghost. Lando had laughed his butt off. He needed to lay in the sun somewhere over the winter, get a little colour on himself. He would race for McLaren. RB had paid so much for him. Stolen him out of F2 and encouraged him non-stop before breaking him into pieces. Just telling him he’ll be out. Then came the contract for McLaren. Starting to pull the pieces back together. The moment they told him at RB was still fresh in his mind. He would never forget it, but the pain started to heal. He had a chance. A real chance. Now he needed to prove himself. Work on his fitness over the winter. Work on his performance. He will do this. He will stay here. And maybe, if he asked again, his crush would say yes to a date.
“Oh God” Mick exclaimed. It felt like the weight of the world had been lifted off of him.
“One signature and you’re back in the game. Don’t waste this chance, bud. I’m sure you won’t get a third.” His manager said. It was his first year as his manager, Toto suggesting him when he told him he wouldn’t lengthen the management contract. Mick looked at the paper. One year. One chance. One goal. He hadn’t expected to get a multi-year contract. This gave him the chance. The only chance. The last chance. He set the pen on the paper and signed.
“Are you for real?” Kimi Antonelli asked “But I thought I should stay in F2 an additional year, get more consistent.”
“Are you seriously trying to talk your way out of a F1 contract now?” Ayao Komatsu, the Haas and future Andretti team principal, asked him. Kimi closed his mouth quickly, opening the pen and signing the contract while Toto chuckled.
Nico and Kevin sat in their hospitality already. Their daughters playing on the carpet with some toys while the adults had dinner.
“How are you feeling?” Nico asked in a now serious tone.
“Better” Kevins said with a little smile “Not as good as before yet, but it’s going to be okay.”
“Are you sure?”
“Well, I didn’t think I’d have a heart attack at barely 31. I thought I had a couple more years left, but here we are. Can’t change it.”
“Yeah. Don’t be a stranger, okay?”
“Aww, don’t worry I won’t leave you alone this easily, asshole.” Kevin said while a smile.
“Shut up, dickhead.” Nico answered, also smiling.
“Nico, we’ve got to go. Hey everyone!” Fernando said, sticking his head in the room.
“Try not to kill the kid you’re getting next year!” Kevin shouted after Nico, who laughed loudly.
He would never tell him, Lance decided. He had seen what it did to the friendship of Pierre and Esteban. It had fallen apart and was barely rebuilt more than ten years later. A friendship was better than nothing. He would learn to live with it. Maybe get a couple weeks of distance to get his head back in place. That would also help him to reset his cover, let out his omega in private to gain strength to hold up the alpha cover in the next season. It was already risky enough that Charles knew, now that their parents were dating. He had probably told Max by now as well.
Logan looked at Esteban. He laid on his stomach, snoring slightly. The man that got into his heart. Made him open up. Be intimate and let him touch him. Showing him that it can actually feel good. That there are things that he can enjoy. And he waited. He still did. They did many things. That is what he thought, at least. Esteban had always said it was enough. That he was happy. THat he should only do what he wants to do. Not more. But he was sure he wanted it. No ... he knew he wanted it. And he would give it to him, he just had to wait for the right moment.