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It started on a normal Thursday driver’s meeting, except it was anything but normal when the magical delegate stepped into the room.
Margerie was perhaps the collective nemesis of all the drivers combined. Hell, Lewis and Nico would probably reunite if it meant no more seeing her ever again. Anytime she showed up it meant that there would be restrictions placed on their individual magic, or that the FIA had devised another insane proposal for utilizing magic in F1. This time it was the latter.
“The FIA Division of Magic has just created something fabulous.” She claps her hands together excitedly, “We all know that your loyalty lies first and foremost with your teams, and that can create conflict during investigations and when talking with the stewards. So, we’ve created something to make honesty a little easier for you all – a truth potion. Now you guys will be able to be blameless but still be able to be held accountable.”
George, in all of his GDPA glory is taking notes, “How long does this potion last, and can you give me an example of one of these ‘conflicts’?”
“So, we can avoid incidents like in 2008,” She makes direct eye contact with Fernando.
The Spaniard makes a show of looking at the ceiling corner.
“And it should only last ten minutes, really quite brilliant when you think about it.” Margerie claps her hand again, “Today I need one of you to try it, and the rest will be able to verify and observe the effects.”
“You need one of us to drink it?” George asks.
Margerie grins, “Yes. After drinking it the doors will be magically warded for the duration for privacy purposes, so nobody except me will be able to leave until the potion has worn off. Are there any volunteers?”
And suddenly Charles is experiencing the most suffocating silence he has ever felt in all of his 26 years of life. Everyone freezes, acting like a muscle twitch will be the thing to volunteer them.
Some people are looking abjectly horrified at the thought of drinking it in front of everyone: Lewis, who definitely is keeping secrets, particularly pertaining to 2016, Carlos, who everyone knows has a 50% chance of having a secret kid, and Daniel, who has been a lockbox since he left Red Bull.
All the others are looking everywhere except for Margerie, and Max and Lando are making suspicious eye contact with the blank walls.
The only people looking unphased are the Haasbands, who upon closer investigation are actually just sleeping.
Across the table he sees Oscar’s face flushing, and Charles immediately knows that the younger one is about to take one for the team. Oscar really is a sweet one. But Charles knows just how important privacy is to the Australian, and there is no way he’s going to let his goodwill be the sacrifice.
“I’ll do it,” Charles hears himself saying.
And he is a little horrified at himself, but by the way he sees Oscar immediately slump in relief, he can't bring himself to regret it.
“Are you sure?” George asks in a tone that sounds a little too hopeful.
Charles rolls his eyes, “My biggest secret is that I can’t park a road car, and it turns out that the entire world already knows that.”
Margerie claps her hands again, and man, she really has to stop doing that or she’ll morph into a full-blown super villain, “Excellent news, Charles. Your team will receive compensation for your willingness.”
Carlos pumps his fist. The compensation is always some extra time off media. Suddenly Max looks jealous.
“You can drink this,” She pulls out a red bottle from inside her coat, Charles eyes it suspiciously, “I’ll ask one question to verify it’s working, and then I’ll take my leave while the rest of you wait the last couple of minutes. Good?”
Charles nods and picks up the potion. It’s a couple shades darker than rosso corsa, and definitely has some sparkles in it. It looks delicious, he has to admit to himself.
He uncorks it and takes it like a shot. It tastes like a combination between strawberry and mint and has a weirdly savory aftertaste. He shakes his head to try and get rid of the mouthfeel.
“What did you think of Mattia Binotto?” Margerie asks.
And what a dirty question that is.
Charles can feel his PR training immediately vanish, “I fucking hate him. I think he is an ugly weasel of a man that would lead a more productive life sawing his fucking arm off.”
Everybody immediately starts laughing and Charles theatrically slams his head into the table in front of him. Well, he and everyone now knows that the potion is legit.
“Perfect, I’ll now take my leave. Best of luck to you all the rest of the weekend,” And with that Margerie is out of the room, and she is now upgraded from Charles’ nemesis to the absolute bane of his existence.
A couple drivers are still laughing.
“I actually despise her,” Charles picks his head up, all the others immediately nod in agreement, “Well if any of you have any questions you’re dying to know, now’s the time. Just please don’t ask me anything too personal, I don’t want to reveal anything I’ll regret.”
George grins, "Who do you think the most attractive driver here is?"
"Lewis." He answers immediately, not ashamed in the slightest. He’s seen the man's GQ covers.
Alex groans, "Could've predicted that one. How about second?'
Now, that made Charles’ face heat up, “Max.”
Max’s head immediately snapped up, finally breaking him from whatever reverie the concept of a truth spell put him in. Charles avoided eye contact, and instead saw Pierre and Carlos both shooting him betrayed glares from the other side of the room.
Esteban shakes his head in amusement, “You guys should be glad the happiest guy in the room took the potion, if it was me, I’d make you all sit in silence for ten minutes.”
A chill immediately wracks through Charles, he didn’t realize what it would feel like when he didn’t want to tell the truth. It feels like an itch that he needs to scratch, one that he would have to get down to the bone to satisfy. It hurts.
"I'm actually sad most days of the week.”
Charles freezes and so does everyone else in the room.
He knows the image that he gives to his friends and the public, and being sad doesn’t fit into it. He’s Charles, Il Predestinato, he’s goofy, he’s kind, he’s hungry for wins, he spends so much time making sure his fans know they matter. He loves his family and his best friends with his entire being. He isn’t supposed to be sad all the time.
Lando looks devastated, he's always been more sensitive, but that's what makes the grid love him, "What do you mean?"
And if that doesn’t open a can of worms.
Lando’s eyes widen, “No, no. You don’t have to answer that. Please don’t. I didn’t mean–”
Charles closes his eyes, “I’m sad because I miss my dad every single day, and I'll never know if he's proud of me. I'm in a shit box of a car and it's started to make me doubt if I even have it in me to be world champion. I think half the people here deserve it more than me.”
Charles takes a breath, and everyone is staring at him in silent shock.
He tries to take another breath and finds that the pressure is building into painful stitches in his lungs, he has more words spilling out, “I wish that Jules didn’t crash at all and that he was here with me now. I'm angry a lot that Max was there when Jules.. when Jules…” He tries to force the words back in his throat, but they crawl out anyway, “Crashed, and I wasn't. And I'm horrified that I think that, I feel like an awful person."
Charles looks at Max pleading, somebody really needs to shut him up, "I don't know if Ferrari and the tifosi and you guys and my friends and my family will even still like me when they find out–”
He tries stuffing the words back into his mouth, and each second is more painful. Max immediately jumps into action, pulling Charles from the table and sitting him into the furthest corner of the room.
Daniel, his other savior, gets the memo and starts loudly talking to everyone else, trying to drown out the confessions that are about to happen
.
Max looks at him softly, "I can cover my ears."
It makes Charles ache with hope, but he knows intrinsically that it doesn’t work like that, "Somebody needs to hear it for it to feel better."
"I will keep everything a secret,” Max nods seriously, “As soon as I’m out of the room I’ll pretend I never heard it."
Charles doesn't doubt him for a second. Max is loyal. Max wouldn't hold this against him.
With that, the words slip out easy as butter, "I'm gay. I don't like women. I'm worried that I'll ruin my career and all my relationships if I come out."
It comes out in a gasp. The pressure finally off his chest in a way that feels euphoric.
Max squeezes his hand in reassurance, "Good job, Charlie."
"I'm glad you're my friend. I regret that we weren't closer during carting, I like to make fun of the ‘inchident’ because it reminds me how close you’ve always been.” He feels a little looser, the words now slipping easily through, “I think about Austria a lot and I wish it never happened. I wish you still followed me on Instagram, I think about re-following you every day, but I don't want to seem desperate. And I would be embarrassed if you didn't notice, and I’m embarrassed now even saying this."
Max just laughs at him, "I'll follow you as soon as this is over. We can do it at the same time."
Charles sighs, "That would make me happy."
“You being happy makes me happy,” Max smiles.
“I wish you really got to know Jules. I think he would’ve really liked you.”
“I think I really would’ve liked him too,” Max agrees, “You’re really strong for doing this, Charlie. So brave.”
“I’m really not. I feel like a kid most days, I–”
Max just waits him out.
“I really miss my dad,” tears start trickling down his face, “Some days I can’t get out of bed, and I get afraid that if I leave my apartment something bad will happen. Which is stupid because I’m gone so often. So I feel bad so often.”
Max nods, “It’s okay to feel that way. Growing up I always felt good on the track, but as soon as I parked my cart, I never knew what bad thing was coming next.”
Charles nods, he knows what the man is implying about his own dad. And maybe it wasn’t the same way, but Max really did understand. Charles was missing his own dad just like Max was missing the dad his own father never was.
He says that out loud.
Max doesn’t let go of his hand.
He can feel the worst words creeping from his stomach and clawing up through his throat. He hides his face in his one hand and grips Max’s tighter with the other.
“I love you.”
The doors click open. The ten minutes are done.
Charles stays curled up on the floor in silence. He hears everyone else quietly leave the room, no longer needing to speak to cover the humiliation that Charles was spewing.
“Charlie,” Max says softly.
Charles just shakes his head, his hand still covering his face.
“I didn’t take the truth potion, but I’m saying this honestly, I love you too.”
Charles looks up at him, he knows that he has a stupid expression of hope on his face.
Max smiles at him, all teeth, “I’ll follow you on Instagram to prove it.”