SebSon - I Think I Missed You chapter 6
I know, I know it's a very late update but finally I finished the next chapter of I Think I Missed You. Actually I wasn't sure about this one and that’s the reason I couldn't make myself finish it sooner. Well, it's funny to say I still couldn't write what I actually wanted to put in this chapter since it turned out to be a too long one, and though at first I was planning to share it as the first part of the 6th chapter it became the 6th chapter itself, and the main thing I actually wanted to write so much will be in the next.
I must say this is not my favourite one, I think it's a bit weird chapter and maybe you won't like it as much as you did the others but I hope the continuation will ease your minds and you won't stop like the fic.
I want to say a big thank to all of you who read it, and a special thanks for all the feedbacks I got. It means a lot, guys, you give me a lot of strength to write it. Thank you! ^^
Now enjoy the new chapter!
Summer breaks were always the most waited ones in drivers’ lives – right after the winter breaks of course. This was the only time during a season when they actually had the time for some relaxation. Though they could meet their family and friends even in a two or three weeks break, it was always hurried ‘cause they had to go back to the factory soon. In summer breaks they had a month to do all these things, and far from must work on their car it was rather no-no for them, it was a simple rule.
Like everyone Jenson was excited about it as well; as much as he loved racing he always waited for this periods very much. The holidays on Hawaii with his girlfriend, the triathlons, the family meetings and the trips in Japan, it was all nice. However this summer break was a lot different from any others for him. Firstly the atmosphere between Jenson and Jessica was uncomfortably cold after the British found his girlfriend with his old diary in her hands. The man had to admit he had conflicts and little fights with the woman sometimes, actually as much relaxed they seemed to be together to the public they were so explosive in real life; this was the spice in their relationship. Anyway he was rarely really angry with his lover but in that very moment he really didn’t know how to handle the situation. The woman was not only seeking in his stuffs but also maybe figured a secret out what Jenson didn’t want to tell anyone yet. It was a sensitive spot of him, something special what he wanted to keep himself; he wanted it to be only his and Sebastian’s and just to think of Jessica got to know about it without his permission, without his will, made him shockingly angry and scared in a way. It was so hard to contain himself.
The playful smile promptly disappeared from Jessica’s face when Jenson asked her stunned who let the woman seeking in his stuffs. Finally it turned out she just found the book on the man’s bedside table right before he entered their room and had no time to studying it, so it seemed she didn’t know about Sebastian, though the British didn’t dare to ask her. However it was hard for Jenson to fix his exploding then; he couldn’t find any clear explanation for it. After a long, uncomfortable minute with silent eyeing and vain thinking he decided to say it was only because he thought the woman was rummaging in his stuffs without his permission and he was allergic to things like that. Of course it was not a satisfying answer mostly for she knew him as the back of her hand and Jenson knew his girlfriend was still suspicious but she dropped the subject anyway. After their little tiff they went to sleep without a word; Jenson on his side, Jessica on the other.
The tension was still sensible in the air even after the next few days. There was barely any communication between the two and when one of them asked something the other mostly gave a short answer which was totally unusual. When they had a fight than it was real fight like an explosion which burned their hearts in the moment but left only the smog behind what completely disappeared the next day. But now it seemed they were incapable of managing this new situation which’s reason was maybe unknown for both of them.
The other abnormal thing during the summer break was his new habit. Actually not his but their.
One night his phone vibrated with a message from an unknown number. First he thought someone misspelled the number and the message meant to someone else, then he thought it to be a joke of one of his fans but he was more surprised when he finally read the message through.
‘Many people in this country are becoming increasingly worried about bull-fighting. They say it's not only cruel, vicious and immoral, but also blatantly unfair.’
Jenson was thinking about deleting it without reading the rest; he just couldn’t figure the meaning of that completely silliness out even thought it was somehow familiar to him. Yet after a little hesitation he decided to read it till the last word. It won’t hurt anyone, will it?
‘The bull is heavy, violent, abusive and aggressive with four legs and great sharp teeth, whereas the bull-fighter is only a small, greasy Spaniard. Given this basic inequality what can be done to make bull-fighting safer?’
Jenson knitted his brows bewildered as read the text again and again. The familiar words were chasing around in his mind confusing him and it pissed him off not knowing where he heard them before. It was totally madness. And why would someone send him such an idiot message like that? Was they drunk or what? What the hell did they want to say with all those things about the bulls and the greasy – greasy, really? – Spaniards?
And then like if it downed on him he remembered of an old memory about one of the scenes of a film. It really took a great effort to him not laughing aloud under his girlfriend, who just fell asleep on the top of him watching a late night movie from one of the sofas in the living room.
Jenson held his phone grinning and started typing his reply fighting against his shaking body as he tried to hold his laugh back.
‘nobody expects the spanish inquisition’
He waited till his mobile signed back the other person got the message, but he didn’t put the phone down from his hands; he was still excitedly staring at the display waiting for the answer when it finally arrived.
‘haha You got it!’
Jenson’s grin widened for the words as he quickly typed back.
‘u watching monty python?’
Of course he did, the long quote was definitely from one of the Monty Python works; he even could tell it was one of the Flying Circus episodes. And there was only one person who would text him a message with it. Sebastian.
‘Sorry, pun intended. I couldn’t resist it. Don’t tell Fernando, he would be angry.’
‘theres no doubt’
The British lifted his head up for a second to ascertain his girlfriend was still asleep. He tenderly stroked the woman’s back playing with the long, soft hair lying there, and looked back at his phone right in the moment as he got the other man’s answer.
‘What are You doing?’
‘watching some late night film with Jessie. actually she already fell asleep. i should tuck her in the bed and join her’
He really thought about going to sleep; it was hard to concentrate on the action movie or whatever it was. Actually he was too tired to caring about any program on the television. It started as a relaxation watching the film but now he really missed their bed.
‘It’s really late so you should, yeah. Hope I didn’t wake any of you up’
‘no, definitely not’
Jenson yawned and carefully stretched a bit beneath the woman. He checked on his wristwatch and realized the German was right; it was nearly midnight and time to go to bed.
‘Fine then. Think I should go too. Good night Jense, have a nice break.’
‘u 2, Seb. we’ll meet in Spa’
And with that he put his phone aside with a smile and woke his girlfriend up just to search for their bed.
And though the first time was a bit bizarre as Jenson remembered it later, that’s how their new daily routine started; it became a habit to the two sharing text messages in the most unexpected moments of the day about the most haphazard things what just happened to them.
Like once when the British was in one of Tokyo’s stores shopping for dinner.
‘Fuck, this line is really long’
Jenson smiled after reading the text and immediately wrote back.
‘where r u?’
‘In a store buying ingredients for my pasta. You?’ came the answer.
He looked around for a moment and let his lips curling up in a wide smile as he saw no one around him.
‘also in a store shopping for my sushi. i’ll prepare it’
‘Very impressive. Must be delicious with all those green alga and unrecognizable kelps. Good luck, man’
‘do i sense sarcasm here?’
‘Of course not, i’m very serious here’
Jenson cheerfully chuckled for the words. Of course the man wasn’t serious. He was a cheeky little monkey as the Spaniard would have surely called him.
‘your pasta must b better. healthy calorie bomb, wow. eat a lot, im still in a fight 4 an honourable place in the drivers championship’
Jenson was wandering in the store for a while then, yet with his empty trolley it seemed he just arrived. He was only gaping between the counters waiting for the other man’s replies.
‘Don’t be conceited, I’ll work it off with Heikki soon ;)’
He couldn’t help the loud laugh which escaped from his throat this time; it was an impossible mission holding it back when the other was such a cheeky idiot again. However Jenson regretted it soon as he got a very odd look from a stranger beside him; the Japanese woman was sorting the tomatoes to herself but suspiciously knocked off for the noise looking up at him concerned and hurried by the surprised man quickly. Jenson was following the woman with his eyes, blushing by the thought how weird he could have looked to other people laughing by himself. He cleared his throat unconsciously and fixed his facial muscles like nothing had happened.
But just a moment later he forgot about his worries immediately as the mobile vibrated in his hand signing another text from the German.
‘The line is finally moving. I’m approaching to the finishing line’
‘its time 4 the fastest lap i guess’
He couldn’t wipe his huge grin off of his face as he sent the text. Of course they couldn’t miss the opportunity for some lame F1 joke out.
‘And the trophy is my delicious lunch which is going to be prepared by me’
The message was shortly followed by another one.
‘It’s my turn in the line. Good appetite for your dinner with your cute little chopsticks’
‘dey r not little and not cute either but my sushis will be. u dun know wut u miss. enjoy your launch 2 :)’
But not only the German liked to bothering the British; the other driver also texted the man sometimes. They were chatting about meaningless things, joking about each other like two kids. It was so natural as if they were doing it in their whole lives.
One night after a long, tiring day Jenson was lying in his bad sleeplessly staring at the ceiling above him. It was almost two in the morning but the British still couldn’t sleep, not like his girlfriend who fell asleep as soon as she put her head down on her pillows.
Jenson’s mind was filled with concern about his car; the team was working on it without rest and it seemed they could really achieve something but still it was not what they expected, something was still missing. The driver knew it wouldn’t be enough to catch the others; they were still far away from where they should have got to.
And to top the day he had a fight with Jessica as well. As much as they matched together there was always something unexplainable in the air. At first Jenson liked that tension, that sparkle in the air which was transformed into flame burning them with pain and pleasure like a two sided sword. He called it passion in the past, now he calls it burden. Something what poisoning their relationship.
In the time when they decided to brake up he thought it would be the best for them. He’d really liked to believe it. On every race weekend he took the opportunity and checked on the women around him, flirted with them like he did it as a youngster, but he had to admit it was not the same as it was before Jessica. As much relieved he was by disposing the stress and anxiousness he was so lonely and depressed alone. He missed even the pain. That blaze burning their hearts and bodies.
And missed all the happy times together. All the little things they surprised each other with, the cheerful smile of the woman after a successful race, the loving kisses when he was disappointed, the supporting shouts before every grand prix and the enthusiasm he felt whenever they went to competing together. These little things made their relationship special. It was like a drug and living without it was real torture. Maybe that was the reason they gave another chance themselves and got together again.
Now as he was lying in their bad he couldn’t stop himself thinking about whether it was a good decision or not. He thought of it after every fight with the woman but at the end he always agreed with himself that it was right in the way as it was; it made the thing between them special and more beautiful. It made it more thrilling. And if Jenson was sure about something in his life it was the fact Jessica was the only woman he would ever bound his life with.
The clock on the bedside table was ticking unnervingly, let the man know the time was passing unstoppable, bringing the morning closer and closer. Jenson would have gladly grabbed the ticking object and threw it through the window, yet he grabbed his phone instead checking the time; it was 2:27 already. The man let out a frustrated sigh staring at the display of the phone, fingers roaming on the screen thoughtfully.
Before he realized what he was doing he already sent the message.
‘wut r u doin?’
The clock kept ticking more exasperating and now another maddening sound joined the rhythm; Jessica’s puffing. Jenson could hear every noise around him annoyingly loud as he held his phone in his hands, his fingers tightly closed around it as he was musing on whether he preferred if his phone would vibrate with the German’s answer or if the man was already sleeping and find his weird late night message only in the morning.
The British almost dropped the mobile away. He lifted his head up reading the message again with slightly opened mouth; he couldn’t believe his eyes, the man would swear to the other driver wouldn’t text him.
The shock flew away soon and a goofy smile replaced the dismayed look on his face as he texted back.
‘then who replied?’
Just a few seconds and the answer already came.
Jenson huffed reading the text. It was so Sebastian.
‘the sandman reads your mind and reply instead of u?’
‘then ask him to wake u up, i wanna talk to u’
‘i can’t. he says i must sleep’
‘and u also talking to him in your dreams?’
‘why not? he’s the sandman’
The smile on Jenson’s face widened even more for the answer but before he could respond another message came.
‘why are you not sleeping?’
Jenson was thinking for a moment what to reply; the clock was still saying tic-tac, tic-tac, and Jessica didn’t stop puffing either, not even when the British glanced in her way for a moment. He texted only one word back after all.
It was a simple and short answer, and Jenson was sure the man wouldn’t be satisfied with that, but what else could have been written? It was none of his business and they were not even friends either. He didn’t even know anymore why he sent the first text to the German, he was just bored and frustrated by his insomnia and didn't know what to do with himself.
The driver sniffed. It was a simple question to a simple answer and yet it was so difficult to wording the next reply. Did something happen? Actually nothing more than usual. But all of these things were in the category which was taboo in his relationship with the guy.
‘something like that’
‘it’s about your car?’
Jenson let out a deep sigh scratching his head troubled. Sometimes it was like as if the man was reading his mind and it was really frightening. But if he was thinking logical the situation was totally obvious so maybe it was not that startling that the man hit on it at once. Well, partly hit on it.
It was completely unintelligible why he gave such a telling reply when he just wanted to end this uncomfortable conversation about his bad mood. He couldn’t hold another tired breather back as he looked at the little question mark. He knew it well where his answer will lead their chat yet he couldn’t just agree and write that ‘yes, it’s all about my car but everything else is fine, thank you very much’, it would have been a lie and he didn’t want to lie. Or maybe he just wanted someone to listen to him, someone who could have been impartial with him.
Anyway he decided it’d be the best changing the topic.
‘why r U not sleeping?’
‘because someone won’t let me?’
Oh, of course. He was so confused and sleepy now he couldn’t think clearly which pissed him off a bit, especially for he was acting like an idiot; though he knew the other man had no such thoughts about him in his mind.
‘sorry, im a bit tired’
‘you should go to sleep’
‘i told u i cant’
‘so you decided you wont let me sleep either’
‘thats exactly the plan’
Jenson could almost imagine the German’s face, his cheeky smile as he was reading the text, and he couldn’t stop himself grinning either. It was ironic talking to the man he wished to be as far as it was possible just a few weeks before, but sometimes it was better to talking to a stranger or an almost stranger than our closest friends. It was refreshing in a way; it could have surprises in store for both parties.
And maybe they could get to know each other more.
‘haha well its a mercy that i can sleep even with your messages on my display’
Jenson huffed cheerfully reading the message before typing back.
‘you wanna leave me alone?’
‘only when i get bored with you’
The man’s shoulders shuddered as he tried to hold his joyful laugh back. Maybe it was strange writing to the man in such a late hour but he didn’t regret it after all. Actually it was funny to say that it was the right decision. He wasn’t sure if any other friends of him could have eased his mind the way as the German did in the moment. Not even Mikey, his physio who really could make him laugh. In fact he just remembered now something what he already realized once when they had a better relationship. Once when they spent more time together, just before he started feel the unreasonable anger towards the man. Sebastian had a very similar sense of humour to his own so they could get each other really well.
The mattress shifted under the British for a moment so he snapped his head up with racing heart checking if his girlfriend woke up but the woman was only turning on her other side. The man let out a relieved sigh just to surprising himself in the next moment. No matter how hard he tried he couldn’t name any reason why he should have been nervous about if Jessica was awake.
It must have lasted very long thinking about his hardly understandable life because suddenly the phone lightened in his hands with a new message from the driver. And then again, as the messages came one after one.
‘stop thinking Jense. look, i know how hard it is when things don’t go as they should and you’re angry with everything and everyone around you but most of all with yourself’
‘but it doesn’t matter even if you gave a hand building a car up which turned out to be a not so perfect one.’
‘this whole sport is about genius men, hard work and persistence. unity. but also about luck, and sometimes people have a bad luck, or just a bad season which doesn’t mean anything’
‘until you give every effort in your work, give all your heart in it and trying to do your best, you should be able to look in the mirror and think that ‘yes, i do whatever i can with pure conscience’
Jenson didn’t even have the time to answer the messages, before he could try to write back another one followed them and after the second trying he gave up on it. He was just lying with his phone in his hands staring at the caring words and the more he was reading them the more he was dismayed. Not especially by the man but himself. The recognition was what actually hit him. The fact what he didn’t say out aloud, not even to himself; that ‘yes, it’s my fault that my car is a shit’. It was a subconscious thing, something which undermined him from the inside. And before he could completely grasp it someone already told him that no, it was not his fault, not only his so he should keep going and start it again, put himself together and give all his strength into his work. It was too much for at once.
‘go to sleep, Jense’
And as Jenson read the last message he suddenly felt like as if the troubles or a part of them left him. Maybe it was just because of someone finally understood him, he didn’t know but all of a sudden he felt really tired, much more than before. The man yawned as he stretched on his bed, then grabbed his phone again and typed back to the other.
‘u 2 Seb. sleep well’
‘only if you let me’
‘u have my word :)’
The slight smile was still on Jenson’s face as he put his mobile down on the bedside table, turning to his girlfriend to pulling the woman in his arms with a deep, relived sigh.
The clock was still ticking, his girlfriend was still puffing, but it didn’t bother him anymore; the drowsiness was stronger and finally was victorious over him.
The people’s mood was chaotic in the paddock as the teams were preparing for the race; there were still only minutes left before going to the track.
Jenson was standing in front of their garages covering his eyes with a hand as he was staring at the cloudy sky. They said there might be rain during the race but Jenson had a feeling the weather would brighten.
The British let an excited sigh out as he finally turned his look away from the sky; he knew he hadn’t got the best car on the grid now but he was always good in the rain and the thought the track might be wet gave him a little more hope. Actually the weekend already gave him a bit strength and hope. He didn’t want to be too presumptuous but he trusted in his car and his team; their developments seemed to be rewarding even the statistics said that so the British was very optimistic about the weekend.
“Are you nervous?” he heard a familiar voice and as he turned about he was facing to a huge grin and a pair of big, very blue eyes... And very, very blond hair. What the hell has happened to him?, Jenson thought shocked as he realised the guy was really similar to his physio now.
“Hey” Jenson welcomed the man with a cheerful smile, reaching his hand out to him. “Not really, rather excited... Okay, maybe a bit nervous too” he added seeing the sceptical look on Sebastian’s face. “It’s one of my favourite tracks along with Suzuka and Silverstone so it’s important to me to prove here.”
The German was staring at him inquiringly like he was searching for something on the British’s face and it seemed it was a natural thing for the man. Well, for Jenson the movement was rather embarrassing and unfamiliar; he felt his cheeks heating up so he tensely cleared his throat just to break the awkward moment.
“To you or the fans?”
The sudden question surprised him, thanks to the frustrating eyeing of the other driver which confused him so much, he couldn’t figure out what the man wanted and he had to ask back.
“You wanna prove yourself or the fans?”
“Oh! Well, myself... and the fans too” he added, unsurely raising his brows. “You know, someone said once: competitors want to prove not only themselves but also the whole world” he quoted.
Sebastian returned the smile what the British maybe unconsciously sent him, giving him an odd, warming feeling in his chest.
“So you agree?”
“What else could I do when you’re right?” The German visibly couldn’t hide his satisfied grin not if he wanted to, which the British could punch him in the face for. That cheeky little... “Stop it already!” he laughed boxing in the younger man’s shoulder.
Now this movement seemed so natural for a moment.
Sebastian laughed with him but before he had the chance to respond someone else interrupted them.
“Jenson!” The man turned about for the calling seeing his physio standing behind tensed. “It’s time, man” he said impatiently pointing at his wristwatch.
“Already?” the British frowned surprised, pocketing an outraged look from the man. “Okay, I’ll be there in a minute.”
Mikey was still standing there for a little more as if he was going to say something else though he turned his back on the two and started walking towards the McLaren garages.
“Think I should go too” Sebastian pointed in the Red Bull team’s way stamping about squirming while the smile on his face changed into a bit embarrassed.
“Yeah, me too” the British agreed but instead of saying his good bye he couldn’t resist his curiosity so looked at the man’s hair and asked him with a playful smile. “What happened to your hair?”
Sebastian was not offended at all; he touched his scalp as if he could ascertain with his fingers that his locks are still gleaming with the right colour.
“I had a too sunny holiday” he said grinning, raising an eyebrow in his usual naughty way. Jenson laughed aloud before acknowledging a little disappointedly the man was actually going to leave. “Now, if you don’t mind... Good bye Jense” he said with a smile.
The British returned the gesture with a nod and grabbed one of the other’s shoulders.
“Good luck, Seb!”
“Thanks, you t...”
“Guys!” Jenson stilled for a moment before snapped his head up, quickly turning to the voice along with the German, but while Sebastian looked surprised he was rather frightened instead. The Old Boy was really scary lately. “Hey, nice to see you two together” the man smirked stopping in front of them. “How are you, Seb? Bet you don’t remember me. I mean, of course you do, you must have seen me sometimes in the paddock I guess, but... you know what I mean” the man waved a hand absent-mindedly and grabbed the driver’s shoulder just exactly in the way as his son did a moment before.
“Hello Mr. Button” the young driver smiled accepting the older Button’s other hand. “Actually I do, only not exactly in the way as you are now. Your hair has more colours in my memories.”
Jenson looked at his dad pressing his lips together, waiting for a negative reaction but to his surprise the man was laughing aloud patting on the German’s shoulder. Jenson opened his mouth stunned but a moment later just rolled his eyes bored by the erratic behaving of his father. He was like a volcano sometimes. Peaceful in a moment but exploding in the other.
“Just call me John” he said giggling and let out a joyful sigh. “Anyway, you’d be a great British with your sense of humour!”
The driver raised an eyebrow stunned and he was alternately looking at Jense and John like he was thinking about what to say.
“Well” he began “actually I already offered to the British fans after a grand prix that I’d gladly be British but they didn’t make the best of the opportunity. Though they really like to celebrate me with their happy booing.”
Even Jenson chuckled to the German’s sarcasm bowing his head down before glanced back up at him with a grin, casually shoving his hands in his pockets. He almost forgot about the race which was absolutely unusual; drivers always tried to be totally concentrated before going to the grid.
The older Button must have appreciated the joke as well; he was laughing at it aloud, cheerfully slapping on the man’s back as he glanced at his son for a moment just to turning back to the German.
“You’re a nice man, Sebastian” he said tightening a hand on one of the man’s arms.
Jenson was just standing there watching the scene thinking about what his dad actually wanted with that show. The man never ever talked about the German before, or if he did Jenson didn’t remember that. And now he was acting as if the driver was one of his best friends or almost like he was a member of their family.
“So what is it?” the question left his mouth just before he could think it over.
John stopped smiling at Sebastian and turned his glance to his son confused.
“You came here. I assume you wanted to tell me something.”
John raised his brows bemused before completely turned to the younger Button with a serious face.
“I just saw you and wanted to say ‘hello’, that’s all.” Jenson frowned sceptical before rolling his eyes with a little headshake. Of course he didn’t believe his dad, he knew him too well and he was almost sure there was something more behind his words. Though he didn’t answer, not that it was needed; John cleared his throat embarrassed and forced a smile as he turned back to the German. “Now excuse me, but I think you really should go, boys.”
Sebastian, who was just staring at the two men nervously standing from one leg to the other now returned the older Button’s smile and reached a hand to the man.
“Yeah,” he agreed. “It was a pleasure, John.”
John gladly accepted the hand nodding to the German satisfied. He was clearly happy about the fact Sebastian not only meant he liked the little chat with him, but the guy also called him on his name, just as he asked him to.
“Me too. Good luck to the race, Seb!”
Sebastian nodded and turned to his rival. Jenson unintentionally straightened forcing a smile, hands still in his pockets as he was waiting for the other’s greetings.
“We’ll meet on the track.”
“Yeah,” he said, before with a last nod the younger man left for the Red Bull garage.
Jenson was staring at the point where the man disappeared, letting out a tired sigh, and after a bizarre, silent moment he quickly turned to his father.
“What the hell was that?”
John seemingly felt uncomfortable as he looked up at the sky before he shrugged unimpressed.
“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”
“Oh, no, no, don’t play this game with me, I’m not a fool. Come on, out with it!”
“Out with what?” he looked in his son’s eyes confused but Jenson could see through his acting, he knew his dad too well.
“You know it. That since when you’re such a big fan of Seb?”
“You heard it. Explain me this show of you, please.”
“Well, the one you just performed a minute ago, of course.”
John inhaled sharp raising his brows bored. Jenson hated when his dad acted like this, when he tried to pretend not knowing anything. Sometimes he felt the Old Boy was more childish than him.
“Okay, I’ll be honest; I honestly don’t know what are you curious about? There was no any show. I saw you two together and wanted to greeting, that’s all.”
“Greeting and almost ask an autograph too, huh?
“What on Earth!”
“Well, that’s what you did here. You were acting like an uncle or... I don’t know. What the hell came over you lately?”
“Why you ask? Am I not allowed to be kind to your rivals?”
“Yes, you are, but I don’t know when did you start liking this kid so much?”
“When did I stop liking him?” Jenson’s eyes widened and after a shocked second he already opened his mouth to respond but John just waved his hand silencing him. “Yes, I always liked him, and it’s a wonder why you not. I’m happy to see the two of you together again. Period. And just to clarifying it: he is not a kid anymore.
Jenson could only mouth. He never thought his father had such thoughts about the German and he was totally stunned hearing the Old Boy was actually liking him that much.
Before he could reply something a strict voice interrupted him.
“Jenson Button, go to your team, now!” Martin shouted impatiently with a scary grimace, sitting at the pit wall.
The British stared at the man and mutely nodded before turning back to his dad.
“Let’s go” the man said clapping on his shoulder and turned his back on his son. Jenson was still for a second watching dismayed as John was leaving for the team. This whole little conversation with the man was hardly believable; it was like someone changed his dad. Well, if he wanted to be honest the whole situation with Sebastian was barely understandable, wasn’t it? Too much strange things and coincidences once at a time and he couldn’t see where all these things would lead them.
That’s why he decided it would be the best just let the destiny guiding their lives.
As he casted one last glance at the sky now standing at the entry of the garage he could feel the growing excitement in his stomach and his chest. That sweet and also annoying feeling why he loved the sport so much.
Maybe this race will be different; maybe it will be better than all the others were before.
Jenson stopped the car a bit more headily than he intended.
The race seemed to be fine; he had a good start on the medium tyres, he even had a little battle for the third position with Nico Rosberg but this time the German won. Next he had another fight against his Spaniard friend and he acknowledged it satisfied the man couldn’t overtake him. It was in the first five laps of the race and he really thought that they finally achieved something with the team but it didn’t last long.
Fernando finally overtook him and Mark also followed him soon. At the beginning Jenson was positive; there were less than ten laps to the others going out for their new tyres in front of him, and when they did he got a chance to leading the race once more, though surely he knew it won’t last too long. And yeah, his mostly beloved German quickly left him behind. Shortly he went out for his new options too getting the harder ones this time; the plan “A” of the team was a one pit tactic, and when he went for the tyres there were twenty-six more laps remaining till the end. He kept his pace waiting for the others’ next pit stops and when they happened he became the third before Lewis. He was driving confidently trying to keep his pace, and the message from Martin about the possibility of a slight rain absolutely brightened his mood even more, especially since he wasn’t sure if his tyres would last till the end. After a little vacillation he and the team preferably decided to change into a two stop tactic.
That’s how he turned to be the sixth with ten seconds behind the Aussie. The team tried to allure him that maybe he still had the chance to overtake Mark on his new tyres but Jenson already knew it was all in vain. The car was so good compared to the earlier races, and it seemed everything was going to be fine, it was absolutely an improvement, yet it was still too little to get a chance getting on the podium again. He knew he should have appreciated the race, it was far better than any others before, and he was happy with the results but he was also slightly disappointed.
Jenson glanced at the German guy for a moment, while he was still sitting in his car for a while buried in his thoughts. The driver didn’t notice him; he was too busy celebrating himself standing on his car, his hated finger pointing to the sky.
The British slightly shook his head and was quickly crawling out of his car. He could hear the crowed cheering and booing as he looked around in the Parc Fermé but he didn’t care about it; a part of him just could understand the booing people.
He took his gloves off of his hands a bit frustrated as he started walking to the huge building in front of him. The short road to the usual supervisory place seemed very long with the awkward atmosphere which was filled with all hating tension thanks to the audience. It was like as if the whole place could have exploded in every moment. Well, it was all Sebastian’s fault, wasn’t it? He made the sport monotonous and boring not only for the fans but also the drivers. Jenson admitted he was talented, a really good driver, but actually he also had the best car under his butt. Of course it was very easy winning the championships like that.
The British could kick himself in the arse for the undeserved words in his head. Even though he knew he wasn’t right he just couldn’t stop the thoughts anyway; maybe there was a little bit of envy in his heart which made him more annoyed. It was like a poison flowing in his veins.
At last he took a deep breath and left the celebrating team behind not giving a damn anymore.
Well, it was still an enjoyable race.
There was a dark side of the sport what the drivers hated as much as they could during all the way its history. People called Formula One a circus which was really accurate in a hand. In the other hand it was nothing more but business; it was all about the money. Oh, and about entertaining the people, which was also a part of the business. No wonder why some people just couldn’t accept Formula One as a sport.
So as being part of such a big entertaining campaign drivers also had their own roles in this famous play and must do their duties what are mostly about giving interviews all the time, or advertising stuffs just to getting new sponsors or keeping the old ones; which is also a part of the business of course.
On closer examination you could tell something went very wrong in the system and it became worse by the years. Yet drivers barely complain about it; everyone wants back the old years when all the pilots and teams could have more freedom, when the FIA didn’t try to control everything in an almost unhealthy way, but those times are far away now and people should accept it’s a new generation and there’s no way back anymore. Well, they should, but it’s really hard. Anyway, drivers maybe tired of these games sometimes and would gladly push all the reporters away, or just be as much mindless as Kimi Raikkönen used to be, actually they almost used to live a life like that.
Jenson Button as well. It was boring hearing the same questions all the time, giving the answers almost automatically without using his brain. Sometimes Jenson wished there would be some reporters with more interesting questions and not just all the formal ones which could have been easily answered by anyone else who had some interest in the sport. However he didn’t blame anyone, it was understandable, actually he didn’t even know it himself what was he expecting from the journalists. Probably he would have been satisfied with anything unusual, but it was fine. There were times when he really enjoyed these talks; he got nice compliments or could hear his fans cheering him even in the actual circumstances, and he was just unbelievably grateful for it. It gave him lot of strength and made him think it was worth for all the hard work and sleepless nights with the team.
“I came on six” Jenson shrugged in the middle of his interview to Natalie. She was one of his favourite reporters because she was not only an expert in the sport but also never forced herself to the drivers; she was always kind and treated them like humans and not like animals in a zoo. Jenson couldn’t stop smiling at the woman. “It’s not the end result what we wanted but we were fighting by a lot more with the cars at the front which is nice, you know, as a Red Bull just in front and thirteen seconds behind third place, so it’s definitely an improvement” he nodded giving weight to his words. “So we should be happy with the progress we’ve made but there are few things that we expected to have here and we don’t have in terms of performance so I’m really happy with the weekend. We can work hard in the next two weeks and find that potential cause it’s, you know, the pace is there I think so... Looking forward to Monza.”
“Good luck for that one, Jenson. We’re excited to see you there. Thank you.”
The chat with the woman really made his day and suddenly he saw everything in a lot brighter way. So yes, that was why he couldn’t completely hate these interviews. However the next fifteen minutes was extremely boring and tiring, he felt like he was a parrot who had to repeat every stupid words of him and it became really annoying at the end. He wished the interview to come to an end soon, so he could go to his team and then go back to his silent room just to have a little rest before flying back to Monaco.
When the last reporter has left as well he couldn’t resist a relieved sigh as he was walking back to the garages. Well, if he thought he could spend the road to his team safely he was wrong. Just as he took the first step a firm hand weighed on his shoulder.
Jenson inhaled troubled before turning to the voice. He really wasn’t in the mood chatting with the beaming man.
“Congratulations, mate! It was a great race, wasn’t it? You were flying. I was really surprised seeing you in the front, just like in the past.” The smile on the German’s face was filled with recognition, the other could tell, though Jenson couldn’t help his disappointment and anger coming back. Somewhere deep in his mind he knew everything what the man said was a compliment yet he felt it to be some kind of mockery. As if he just shoved it in his face that to leading the race was a miracle lately.
“Oh, yes, it was incredible, especially for you. With such a car under your butt there’s no doubt you could won.” Sebastian’s eyes widened by dismay but Jenson didn’t stop. He couldn’t make himself to care about what was he doing. “With a car like that I could have won the race as well, so yes, nice job, mate!” he finished sarcastically grinning at the man before turning around not even waiting for any response.
Just in the moment as he turned his back on the German he crossed a familiar, now stunned face in front of him and for a moment he felt guilty, but didn’t care about it.
“Jenson!” he heard the indignant voice yet he didn’t stop; he stormed away quickly, leaving the two men behind.
He didn’t see those slightly parted lips or sad eyes of the driver, and neither the disappointed, apologising movements of John as the man was patting on Sebastian’s lowered shoulder before going after his son.
“So what is it, Jenson? What happened?”
Jenson looked confused as he glanced up at his girlfriend in the McLaren motor home. The music was pounding aloud around him locking almost all the other voices out of his mind, except his own thoughts. The team was extremely happy after a long time; everyone greeted him with pride and hugged him gladly. This after party was more similar to the old ones than all the others were in the season which understandable. The first time in the season they could finally achieve something, though they still couldn’t get on the podium.
Jessica was staring at him concerned as she put her drink down on the table.
“Something’s bothering you, I can see it.”
“I’m fine.” Jenson just smiled like everything was fine, touching one of the woman’s hands which was resting on his shoulder now, but Jessica was seemingly unsatisfied with the answer.
“Is it about the race? I thought it went good.”
“Yes, it did” Jenson nodded agreeing.
“Then what is it? You came on sixth, Jenson. It’s a real improvement, you should be happy with it. It was a great result and it’ll be better and better, you’ll see. Now it seems you finally found the right path.”
Jenson didn’t respond to this one. He totally agreed with the great result thing, but the future was still foggy. It seemed to be far away getting a chance to getting on the podium again. However, it wasn’t the thing which was actually bothering him. He was completely satisfied with the end of the race now, it couldn’t have been better to be honest.
There was something else which didn’t let him rest.
“I’ll go back to the hotel.”
“Now?” Jessica was clearly stunned but stood up as well.
“No, I’ll go alone.”
“Dad!” he called out for his father who was just about a meter away. “Dad!”
The man turned to him for the second call and went to the couple with curiosity in his eyes.
“Could you take care of Jessica, please?”
“What the hell are you doing? Of course I’m going with you!” the woman shouted dismayed.
“Please, just give me an hour, okay? I wanna be alone for an hour.”
Jessica was searching for something in his eyes. The anger completely faded away from her glance replacing with concern just to make Jenson feel guilty. The last time he asked her to let him alone for a while was after he won the championship in 2009. Then he went to his room, lay on his bed and tried to grasp the fact he became a world champion. Now he just wanted to be alone and putting his thoughts together.
“Okay” the woman sighed approvingly. “But don’t do anything stupid!”
“What stupid could I do?” Jenson smiled honestly as he placed his arms tightly around her waist. He loved the woman so much, especially in these moments when she was so understanding. He’s never ever met anyone else like her before.
“Who knows?” Jessica shrugged and hugged back, pressing a light kiss on his love’s lips.
Finally the Old Boy broke the idyllic moment as he uncomfortably cleared his throat.
“I’m sorry guys, but may I ask if you still need me, or you rather need a room?”
Jenson knitted his brows, he looked pissed off but his face lightened quickly as he let his girlfriend go.
“No, I need you to take care of Jessie at least for an hour, or more, if she wants to stay of course. I just need some time alone. Would you be so nice and escorting her to the hotel then?”
“Of course I would!” the Old Boy said with a bit more enthusiastic then Jenson expected; the frightening look just showed up on the man’s face again scaring the driver but he just shook his had and nodded to his dad.
He turned back to Jessie for kissing her the last time before left the motor home for his hotel room.
The silent room was not as relaxing as he expected it to be; his mind was filled with more thoughts than it was before.
John was very furious after the incident with Sebastian. Jenson still could hear the man’s voice in his head; “What did you do, you idiot? Didn’t you see how confused he was? The boy was clearly disappointed and sad. It was such a good race, so I don’t understand your childish behaving.”
He neither did. He did it unconsciously, he didn’t even know what was he doing, the words left his mouth before realising it. Actually he just worked his anger off on the boy because the podium was so close, and even thought he was happy with the end of the race, he was still a competitor. And competitors couldn’t be satisfied with any place but first. Even Ayrton said: he was not designed to come second or third. He was designed to win. And it was the same with Jenson. He just realised it after the German congratulated him and the envious feeling flowed his heart. His father was right. It was a childish behaving and now he hurt the other man with no reason.
Jenson was lying on his bed for half of an hour buried in his thoughts, just staring at the ceiling tired. The mobile lay in his hand; he was turning it, playing with the object for a while before finally looked at the display and started typing a message to the German.
‘I’m sorry for my childish behaving today. I think I was slightly disappointed. I shouldn’t have treated you like that, it was not your fault. Hope you can forgive me. Have a good party.’
The mobile lightened in a second showing the man read the message. Jenson read his words again and again waiting for the other’s answer while his heart was beating faster by every second. He wasn’t sure if it was the best thing to do, a part of him said he was stupid and it was pitiful, while another part of him said the opposite. Sebastian did it more than once when the boy felt guilty for something what he did to the British so it was the least what he could do. Maybe it would have been better to calling him instead of writing a message but he was too coward to do that.
The time was passing by painfully slow and Jenson was more and more frustrated; after the twenty-eighth minutes of waiting he gave up and put his mobile aside with a long sigh. He wasn’t angry with the boy. He could understand he didn’t want to answer to him. However it made his heart aching in a way. Just after their relationship seemed to be fixed again he screwed everything up.
A knock on the door suddenly broke the silence and Jenson looked up confused. He checked the time on his wristwatch; it showed 22:57. Who the hell would bother him in such a late hour? The stranger didn’t give up though, they knocked on the door again and again until the British got bored and finally got up to opening it.
He gently pushed the door handle down and carefully opened the door, just a little bit at first, but a moment later he opened it wide totally stunned by his visitor.
Sebastian was standing on the doorstep with a serious look on his face but a moment later a slight smile formed in the corner of his lips.
If Jenson’s heart was racing while texting to the man then he didn’t know what it was doing right now. He only knew it was absolutely intended to jump out of his chest right through his throat.
Note: Sebastian's first text message was a real quote from an episode of the Monty Python work, Flying Circus. (Ep.35)