Work Text:
As the wind blows, through the windows
I feel your spirit creep down to my soul
Charles Leclerc followed Max Verstappen around like a ghost. He was everywhere the Dutchman looked: on his timeline, on his for you page, on advertisements before his videos, on billboards he can’t avoid when he has to drive out for things, as a guest on his favourite podcasts, on the morning radio, and worst of all on his best friend Lando Norris’s T-shirt.
“Mate! I went to the Leclerc concert last night, and it was so good. The energy was, like, through the roof, and he sounds so good live. That man definitely does not use autotune, y’know?”
Max hums. He is well aware that Charles can sing.
“And he plays the piano live too!”
“Which was good?” he asks, because Max is apparently a masochist.
“Good? Good? Good?” Lando gets louder every time he repeats the words. “It was mesmerising.”
Max’s smile is tight. He knows just how mesmerising Charles can be, but he won’t take this away from Lando.
My stomach hurting, it's tossing turning
The cigs they burning, the cigs they burning
But, no I can't breathe without you
I'm on my knees about you
Contrary to popular belief—the belief of Pierre Gasily, the only person who knew that Max and Charles had ever dated—Max wasn’t the one to break up with Charles right before he made it big. It wasn’t Max who broke Charles’ heart so badly that he’d written an album’s worth of hits that got him picked up by the internet, and then a major record label.
Charles did that all on his own.
Charles had been the one to break up with Max. Charles had been the one to break Max’s heart so badly he’d moved across Europe to get away from it all. Charles had been the one to go back to their once-shared apartment—that he’d only taken an afternoon to move out of—ready to beg for forgiveness, only to find Max gone.
Bout you, you, you, you, you, you, you
You don't care, like I care bout you cause
That’s when Charles wrote the album that made him famous.
Pierre didn’t see it that way, of course, when he had called Max. He had called Max in a rage, telling him about how he’d broken Charles’ heart, and that if the Frenchman ever saw him again he’d make do on that shovel talk.
Max couldn’t get a word in before the line went dead. He thought about calling Pierre back, telling him his side of the story; he thought they were friends after all. But Pierre lets the call ring out, and Max is reminded that Charles was his friend first.
They don't love you like you thought they did
You don't know them like you thought you did
“You should have been there, mate. I know you could have afforded an extra ticket for yourself.”
He could’ve. And once he’d gotten over the Charles of it all—and gotten lost in the Leclerc—he would have enjoyed himself.
Right when you left, they started talking shit
Right when you walking in
That’s the worst part, Max thinks, that he likes the music. That he thinks Charles is still speaking to him through song, like he used to in their one-shared apartment.
That’s not true.
Charles writes songs like Max is singing them to him.
This is what I need, when I sit I wanna love
Just tell me what you need so I can give you what you want
Like
It’s infuriating, how even after years apart Charles can just tap into his psyche like that. They haven’t even spoken. They’ve never even seen each other since Charles moved out.
Driving down this runway, runway
Hope I don't crash, but if I do, it was fun babe
Max has seen Pierre. It was during a shift at the cafe. He was making orders. Lando was behind the register.
I was goin' like 99 in a 45, feeling good for the first time
Then I thought about you and I don't know
And I don't know why
The Frenchman orders two drinks, both orders Max knows by heart. One because Charles was the love of his life, and the other because Pierre had been third wheeling for far too long for Max to not know his order. It’s a slow day. Pierre is the only customer. Max has them ready before he’d even finished paying; before Lando has had a chance to send the order over to his prep screen.
Pierre looks up at Max confused, defensive, and a little on edge. It all melts away when he recognises the barista. Not some stalker fan that knows Charles’ coffee order, just the ex that also knows Pierre’s.
Why I even think about you or give you a time of day
But you in a higher placе, and I'm feeling low now
My life feeling slow now, every timе I go out, show out
“I am sorry,” Pierre says, “I was wrong about it.” He puts a hundred in the tip jar.
Why you lie, babe, why you on my mind today?
Why I even think about you or give you a time of day
It’s too much.
But Max is too shocked by the apology, and Lando is too confused by the whole interaction, so neither of them do anything about it.
Max pockets the money.
Lando lets him.
But you in a higher placе, and I'm feeling low now
My life feeling slow now, every timе I go out, show out
Max didn’t need the money. He didn’t even need to work. Charles had put him on the writing credits of every song on his first album. He didn’t have to. Max wasn’t expecting him too, not even if they had stayed together. But Charles was a good guy, despite everything that had happened between them, and Max had amassed a rather large sum of royalties.
All of the heartbreak songs Charles had gotten famous with were once love songs. Love songs that Max had helped him write in their once-shared apartment, because they were all twisted on their heads.
Max has always thought they were better this way, because anguish sells better than joy, because Charles couldn’t understand happiness.
That’s why Charles broke up with him. Charles had said things were too good, and that scared him. So he left before things fell apart.
Max fell apart because Charles left.
Charles fell apart when he found out Max had done what he’d asked, and gotten the hell out of his life before everything eventually went to shit.
Charles did that to himself. Max takes no pleasure in it. In fact, he prefers the narrative that it’s his fault. That he broke Charles’ heart. He doesn’t like it because it pins Charles’ fame on him, but because it takes the blame off of Charles.
Charles, amazing Charles, who always thinks everything is his fault. That if he were just better things might not have ended up the way they ended.
Max doesn’t think Charles needs to be better. Max had loved Charles for who he was.
They don't love you like you thought they did
You don't know them like you thought you did
Right when you left, they started talking shit
Right when you walking in
This is what I need, when I sit I wanna love
Just tell me what you need so I can give you what you want
Lando continues to gush out the Leclerc concert while Charles’ newest song plays on the cafe’s speakers. Max thinks he is in hell, but he won’t take it away from Lando.
Charles is an amazing singer. Charles is an amazing piano player. Charles is an amazing performer.
Max misses going to all of his gigs, but Max can’t do it anymore.
Not after Charles broke his heart. Not when the only thing Max did wrong was love him.
Like.