69. ANOMALIES AND HUMANITY

/Charles/

“London passes before my eyes, from Seb's rental car which takes me back to the circuit to reunite with my two colleagues. It’s suggestive with the sunset now at its end, the sky is purple.
Seb turns on the music and Coldplay casually plays, briefly reconnecting me with the reality I'd been totally disconnected from.
I kept touching my lips curled in a goofy smile, clinging to every detail I could remember of the kiss I had with him.
I almost put my tongue in his mouth, but it was definitely much more than we've done so far. And it was beautiful. So beautiful that I don't know what saint stopped me from forcefully invading his entire mouth. I bitterly regret not doing so, but I know it's right this way. I sigh for the umpteenth time until I feel frustrated, and perhaps I show it more than I'd like to and I normally do.
- Are you okay? - Seb's question is a rhetorical one, it's pretty obvious that he isn't.
- Yes, of course. - I say instead, lying as usual, taking care to turn my head even more toward the window to avoid the inquisitive and perplexed look Seb immediately throws me. I don't need to look at him to know that's the case.
- And you? - I immediately ask back to manipulate the conversation, which I know well how it would end if I left it to him. Actually, having witnessed that sort of discussion between him and Lewis, my question is a fair one, but he's thinking about the one with Jos and mentions him, taking me by surprise. Both because he's talking about him and because he doesn't insist on what is obvious bothers me.
- Yes, Jos finally calmed down. I told him I don't want to teach him how to be a father, even though maybe it would have been better if someone did it when Max was little. But I didn't tell him that.
This statement freezes me and I look at him turning my head sharply. I stare at him with wide eyes and Seb gives me a brief glance, realizing that I don't know so many things that perhaps it's time I knew.
- What do you know about them? - my voice comes out on its own, out of my control, a sign that I'm now relaxed with Seb and feel so comfortable that I don't need constant restraints and masks, even though I tried to keep one on before with disastrous results. It's incredible how he respected me.
The question I ask makes me feel uncomfortable because it feels like I'm spying on my boyfriend, even though he obviously isn't yet. Not officially. What is he still waiting for? The Greek Calends?
- Nothing, actually. I assume what everyone knows. It's just that I know Jos quite well; since Max has been in F1, he's been far too present. I've always followed F1 even when I wasn't racing, so I know how much of an asshole Jos is, I know his philosophy. Besides, I heard the rumors about how he was raising his son, just like everyone else has.
This feels like a punch in the face, but I hold my breath so as not to get distracted. I keep looking at the regular profile of Seb where his beard stands out alongside his curly, messy blond hair.
Suddenly, the need to know more, to know for sure, assails me.
Yet I know that if I asked Max, he wouldn't tell me anything.
- And what did the rumors about them say?
Seb has to stop, stuck in the traffic that's approaching Silverstone, to the mostly abandoned circuit now, but evidently not entirely.
He sighs and resigns himself to moving slowly, meanwhile glancing at me every now and then and answering calmly.
- You're his age, you race go-karts with him, you must know him better than I do. You should be the one to tell me something about them.
I see he doesn't ask me, 'Aren't you his boyfriend?' and for that I'm grateful.
I shift uncomfortably in my seat and reply: - It’s not like he was talking about his own business. You see how reserved he is, right?
Seb nods, agreeing with me.
- I don't know, anyway. That he was very strict, that he didn’t take him home if he raced badly, that he even beat him, which is why sometimes he kept his helmet on even after the end of the race if he had done badly. Stories like that.
- That he beat him? - I repeat softly, feeling a stab that takes my breath away. My heart is pounding in my throat and I feel like my ears are even ringing. I feel dizzy at this revelation and I don't even know why.
I remember the conversations Alex and George told me every now and then, but I didn't want to listen to them; I never did. I'd forget as soon as I heard them because I felt like I was violating something important.
What I know now that I'm hanging out with him, so to speak, is that Jos abuses him psychologically, although I don't know exactly how much this abuse goes because I don't understand Dutch and Max doesn't tell me so much. He was vague when he told me something this year, but I know it's a tiny part of the truth. Now hearing this from Seb, whom I trust, it makes me feel torn and it burns. It burns like crazy. It burns as if a serious and cruel sin of mine were coming to light, one I should truly be ashamed of.
- It seems so, take these things with gloves. Only those two know the truth, you should ask Max. - Seb adds cautiously, starting again.
It's as if he understands what's happening to me and respects me without needing to talk about it or explain it, as if he can read me. Seb makes me feel understood, it's been that way since the first moment I met him in Ferrari, that distant day in 2019. He has an ability to get inside people that I've never seen in anyone else, which is why when he broke up with me that time, I felt bad even though I didn't want to admit it. Mending fences with him was wonderful.
For a moment silence falls. Seb moves very slowly through the traffic and changes the channel because the station is playing commercials. He stops at a rock song and I'm not surprised to see him singing one.
Oasis, Wonderwall. It’s very beautiful this song.
I'd ask him if he likes rock to change the subject, but my mind remains fixed on Max and Jos, and I can't let go.
- What did you tell Jos?
- That I don't want to teach him how to be a father, but that in his place I'd tell him it's more important to reach the finish line safe and sound than to surpass others at all costs. Because those costs are sometimes too high and he can't wait until it's too late to realize that.
At this explanation I look back to him surprised, my eyes widening in disbelief.
- Did you really tell him that? - I ask incredulously.
Seb looks at me not understanding why I'm surprised.
- Yes! - he replies candidly.
- And that doesn't seem to teach him how to be a father? - Seb understands the irony and laughs. His laugh relaxes me as if it were magical, even though the Jos Verstappen issue burns my stomach because it's putting me in front of a mirror, and the image it sends back is atrocious. I'm not much better than that asshole, considering that for years and years, despite knowing, sensing, or being able to know, I never cared so as not to have to help him, not having to get involved, not to deal with complicated things. I did as the crowd did, I pretended not to know and not to see because it was convenient; but what the hell was he going through, there alone?
I'd like to go to them and ask everything precisely, but I can't.
- My intention was not to teach him, but then, as is well known, my big mouth never connects to my brain!
- Oh, yes! It's well known! - I comment, chuckling; I remember quite a few times when he didn't keep his thoughts to himself, and what he thought wasn't anything light and diplomatic. Or, at least, he didn't express them in a normal way.
Lewis is diplomatic, but Seb definitely not!
Thinking of Lewis, I notice that as we finally enter the circuit's private parking lot, he's sitting in the spot reserved for Seb, since every driver has one. He's perched on the railing where the driver's name and number are written.
- Is everything okay between you? - I ask before getting out and leaving them alone. Seb stays inside letting me know we'll switch, smiles at me and nods with confidence and serenity. I know they parted ways badly, so the fact that he knows everything will be fine is incredible. I think I should learn from him to be so confident, courageous and positive.
He confronted Jos saying things to his face that probably no one has ever dared to say. He ditched his boyfriend to rush to check on his direct rival, and despite the argument, he's convinced everything is fine with him.
I nod gratefully and he nods with a sweetness that reminds me of a father. Sometimes he really reminds me of mine; they're similar in some ways.
Once I get out, I nod to Lewis.
- Is he okay? - he asks without specifying who. I understand and nod.
- More or less.
Lewis nods, jumps down from the railing and gets into the car in my seat. As I leave, I turn and look at them. The windows are a little dark but not completely obscured, so you can see something and what I see is very beautiful.
As soon as Lewis enters, he doesn't say anything, he immediately clings to Seb's neck and the two embrace.
The parking lot is almost deserted, there's no one watching them and it's already evening, so they can rest assured. They certainly wouldn't have done that in different circumstances.
I leave them to their peace by turning and walking toward my car, well away from theirs, where Joris and Andrea have already collected all my things to save time so we can leave immediately for the airport.
I bend down to see inside and they're there waiting for me with infinite patience.
They were incredibly patient, waiting for me; they didn't have to, but they are, as Max says, my two guardian angels. I'll tell them. I think it's time to do so.
I smile in surrender and a little tense but aware, ready to lift a huge weight and tell them that I feel something deep for Max. I like him a lot. And that I hope to be with him soon. That they shouldn't faint if one day they were to catch us kissing.
At the thought I smile happier and lighter. Yes, I hope it happens, actually. That they catch us kissing. It would mean we're together.
Before getting in the car, I take one last look at Seb and Lewis's car. From here you can't see them because there is a certain distance and I can't see what they're doing anymore, even though I can imagine it.
For a moment I envy them, then that feeling gives way to another. A sort of hope. That of being like them, one day. Although I suppose that to be at that level, the level where even if you argue, you hug and immediately make up without even a doubt, you first have to be able to talk to your pseudo-boyfriend about his deep, intimate issues with his father.
Thinking about Jos and Max for the umpteenth time, the desire to protect Max overwhelms me, but even more than that, there's the desire to make him happy, because he needs it and deserves it. He definitely deserves it.
I'll make you happy, Max. I'll work hard for it. I'll take care of you.
Just make the decisive move on me, when you're ready and have forgiven me for what I've done to you, but do it. I don't know how long I can wait; I almost sucked your tongue before. What the fuck!

I don't know what happened to him, but it seems he didn't appreciate my overbearing attempt at a kiss which stopped short. I have no other explanation for his avoiding me and disappearing from my radar. 
Not that I insist or try to get in touch anymore. I sent him a few generic messages about 'how are you?' and stuff like that, but seeing that he barely responded and was monosyllabic, I knew he had something.
I also gave him space in Hungary, the last GP before the summer break, thinking he was angry at my move, but it’s not possible, that’s why he's sulking at me.
It's a nice thing, after all, a kiss. And then I stopped and apologized; there's no point in acting so offended.
I know I told him I'd let him do it when he was ready, but it seemed to me that in the hospital he didn't mind my bullying. I don't do it on purpose; it's because of how I feel about him. I didn't hit him!
He's obviously not ready for us yet. I gave him freedom of action precisely so he could do what he felt when he felt it. Maybe he thought he wanted it, but then he realized he's still unsure. Besides, I've made him suffer a lot, so it's understandable that he's unsure of me.
Maybe he thinks I just want a couple of fucks and it could be that he wants something else; that's legitimate, given our history, but he should talk to me about it, in that case.
Mulling on it alone won't get him anywhere, especially because it's not like that. Or rather, I don't think so; but I can't be sure until I experience it.
I don't know if I'm capable of feeling anything and what it is, I just know that he's bringing out things in me that no one else has ever brought out, and he's gradually humanizing me more and more; so deep down, instinctively, I know that if anyone in the world is worth it, it's him. If he can't make me human, no one can. But that's no reason to be with someone, I know full well that, so I don't want to push him too hard. The truth is I'm uncertain and insecure about myself.
He's making me so wonderfully human that time after time I want no one but him, but if he asked me what my intentions are for the two of us, I honestly wouldn't know what to say. So if Max isn't ready yet, I can't force him, even if sometimes I feel like it; like in the hospital, in fact.
But maybe with him strong methods are needed because he's always been used to it and therefore isn't capable of making decisions, but only following overbearing and domineering orders.
The yacht moves forward under my guidance, where my trained and confident hands move the means of transport I'm happy to use. Since I got it, I've used it little, but finally things in the world are improving and the pandemic restrictions are easing. Maybe we can get back to normal.
The landscape around me is always the same: a splendid dark blue horizon that merges with the clear blue of the sky, the sun in my face shielded by my sunglasses, music trying to overcome the noise of the engine as I move, and the wind buffeting me. It's a feeling I usually love, but since things have been so strange with Max again, I can't enjoy anything anymore.
Thinking about him and his father and how he shaped him with his shitty ways, I realize that perhaps I don't insist too much because I feel guilty.
I've felt this strange thing ever since I talked to Seb about it.
I never looked, even though I sensed something was wrong, but even if I never did, Max's wound exists, it's real, and it's always been there. Maybe he was hiding it, but that's no excuse, since everyone has always talked about Jos's unhealthy behavior toward his son.
I begin the docking maneuvers while slowing down to approach a spot in the middle of the sea that seems good.
Why have I never wanted to see? Why did I always act like it was his problem?
Since this conversation has become increasingly huge between us, I feel like I'm the one who has to hide. How can I consider myself his boyfriend, how can I pretend to be one if I know nothing about him and what he's been through and is going through?
Giving him time and space is yet another excuse to avoid seriously addressing this enormous drama in his life that I'm ashamed to have never addressed.
I stop the engine completely and make the final anchoring moves; while I let everything happen, after pressing the buttons and pulling the levers that needed to be pulled, I grab my phone and, without thinking too much, head to the private gallery that concerns him, the one I hide in case it falls into the wrong hands. There's nothing scandalous; he didn't send me any even if he could have. But there are photos of him that I like, some of them that idiot Lando sends me, even if they're not pornographic. If he had a way to take pornographic photos of him, I'd kill him.
I find some photos by chance and I like them and save them. Recently there's this one that devastated me as soon as I saw it. It's very recent, from this vacation with his new happy family, the one I'll never be a part of. I feel torn and split in two because of this too. The Jos thing wasn't enough, now this too is messing everything up.
There's this beautiful photo of him with little Penelope, Kelly's daughter, holding a pacifier in his mouth. Here he's so handsome and sweet, shirtless on a boat; the most tender expression I've ever seen on him. As soon as I saw it, I melted and warmed so much that I had to save it. He's so beautiful and yet so far from me.
On the one hand, I'm ecstatic every time I look at him in this role of a probationary father. On the other, I'm envious and jealous. I'll never have any of that with him, and one day Max will get married and have kids because it's obvious he will, and I'm just wasting a lot of time.
What's the point of trying to get together with him and live our desires and whatever else happens, if in the end he'll start a family that I'll never be a part of?
But what was the point?
It started just for sex, because he turned me on like crazy and I wanted him. He made me feels like no one else. He forced me to see the real Charles, my true sexuality. That's who I am. I like guys, especially him, but then it evolved. It continued in a completely different way.
Because he made me feel wonderfully human and I liked feeling that way, and I was only with him, only thanks to him. If you meet the only person who makes you feel emotions and sensations of various kinds, wouldn't you cling to him with all your being?
But maybe, before I complete this journey with him that might lead me, once and for all, to actually being with him... maybe I should first make peace with my intentions and figure out what I want from him and perhaps how I feel.
Because maybe a simple 'I want to be with you because I like you' isn't enough for him. Maybe he wants something else and he's right, after all.
So why would I want to go to Jos and run him over with my car? Why would I want to know exactly everything Max has been through and continues to be through? Why would I want to replace all that crap with something beautiful that I hope I can give him?
What do we call this?
If Max asked me right now, what would I say?
'What do you feel for me, what do you want from me?'
I know what it is, I know what it's called, but I'm so afraid to say it that until I know Max is ready for me, I won't have the courage to even say it to myself.
I'm still waiting for you, Max, but hurry, please. I can't take it anymore.”

/Max/

“I have to say that Seb wasn't wrong, all things considered.
Disconnecting and isolating myself from everything and everyone has really cleared my mind, to the point that now that it's finally time to get back on track, I feel ready and energized, and above all, I understand.
I don't just want this normal family life. Or rather: I want it, I like it, it's a breath of fresh air, a nice point of reference. In short I have to say it's fine, but I don't want this exclusively; I wouldn't be able to bear it for long if I only had this.
I want to be a father; it's a clear realization I've had while spending time with Penelope these past few weeks. And things are going incredibly well with Kelly; I like her enough to be with her and do everything you do with a partner. I'm not just talking about sex, which is important between two people who are together. I'm also talking about spending time together and maybe even living together. I think we'll try this step soon, and I'm sure it will go well; we'll try.
But it's not enough for me. It's not the only thing I want. I'm fine with it, it's a part of my life that I enjoy, I wanted to feel normal and it works. With her, or rather, with them, I feel good and that gives me peace and makes me feel good.
But at the same time I'm missing something.
I'm missing someone.
I miss the thrill, the instinct, the desire, the absolute and deep desire, the madness that has characterized my existence since I was born.
The anomaly. The out-of-line, that wonderfully human being in my own way, which isn't the way of others. That abnormality that allows me to occasionally need normality, like a schizophrenic.
I miss Charles.
Charles and what I feel with him and for him; what he makes me feel, want, how much he drives me crazy and desperate. The challenge with him beyond the competition.
The challenge to conquer him and make him do what I want, to take him where I demand he be, where I want him. In my bed, on top of me, sucking me. But not only there.
Even hugging me while we sleep and being together after sex.
I want him in my life while he drives me crazy and makes my adrenaline skyrocket, while he destabilizes me, while I fight for everything, because with him it's always a fight.
I want Charles in his damned complicated being, because I am too. I'm not normal and I'm just made that way.
As he himself once told me: being different isn't bad, it's special and special is beautiful. But I think that being special is simply my reality, I just have to accept myself instead of desperately trying to change myself because I feel alone and rejected and flawed.
Kelly gave me that sense of acceptance and normalcy I was looking for, and I actually like feeling that way every now and then; but it's not enough because I'm not like that. I'm different. I'm fucking different and only Charles makes me feel exactly what I want. He adapts perfectly to my difference, my weirdness, my abnormality.
So I'm going back to F1 for the second part of the season, right here in Belgium, with much clearer ideas.
Now, dear Charles, we'll have to pick up where we left off.
You'll see if you don’t make the move for real this time!

Seeing him again after almost a month is strange and makes me realize once again that I'm sure I want him in my life as my boyfriend. I see him from afar in the hotel without him noticing and I remain stunned, he has this blurred little face.
He has that kind of expression from early childhood. He's forced to smile, but not intentionally. His eyes remain fixed in a sort of haze with a melancholy aftertaste.
I watch him as he talks to the usual clowns; there's no doubt he should be laughing a lot, but his laughter doesn't reach his eyes and is almost grotesque.
A month without me and he's gone so far back? Or maybe I'm seeing things that don't exist, like I've always done with him?
I wonder, for a moment, if I disappeared from his life, how he would progress. Or regress. But in any case, it's not an experiment I want to try, although he does have to answer a question.
A question I intend to ask him right away, without waiting too long.
Today we drivers have free time that we usually use to explore the city, usually each on our own, but the weather in Belgium is shit this week, so much so that they say the race will be seriously penalized, but to talk to him we can also be submerged in water. His Majesty just needs a free mouth to answer me.
I wait a bit to make myself noticed, then at the umpteenth burst of laughter from everyone, which he only pretends to join in, I sigh impatiently, shrug my shoulders and go over to them as if nothing had happened, feigning total indifference to the way we parted in Hungary a month ago.
Pouting, coldly, each on their own.
I arrive directly behind him, take his neck in my hand and squeeze in my typical way. A moment later, when I feel him tense up, I greet everyone enthusiastically.
I pull my hand away, walking alongside him and joining the group at the table in the hotel bar for a coffee or a drink together.
Everyone says hello to me and after giving them a generic look with a happy smile and asking how their summer vacation was, I turn to Charles, who stares at me directly and uncertainly. When my eyes land on his, I give a quick wink and as soon as he sees it, Charles smiles back happily. And he truly is; undeniably, the light now reaches his eyes. It's a brief moment he reserves specifically to me and it relaxes me and fills me with absurd joy.
My Charles is always there, and I still have a special place in his complicated heart. That's what matters most, along with the fact that he hasn't gone back to withdrawing into that foggy shell like he used to.
For a moment I was afraid, watching him from afar. But here, now, he's back to talking cheerfully and getting seriously involved. We laugh and joke together like we used to and everything is wonderful again.
I've missed you so much.”

NOTES: A moment of reflection that both needed, to clarify his thoughts in Max's case and to further confuse in Charles's case, who is actually a paranoid. I like to occasionally throw in things about Sewis, even just small references, almost like a sort of sequel to Still We Rise. Until next time. Kisses, Akane