LDR Ch 12

At Leo’s words, Harrison’s expression briefly soured. Though he always managed to get through social situations when necessary, his dislike for mingling with people never went away.

“Nora’s at school, and Adam and Finn are at home, right?”

As he said, Nora was at boarding school, but Adam and Finn were still young and at home.

“Yeah.”

“When are we seeing them?”

The intent behind his voice was obvious—he wanted to be included—but Leo answered firmly.

“Friday.”

On Friday, there were various press conferences and two practice sessions, but Leo wasn’t essential personnel, so his absence wouldn’t matter. Harrison, of course, was a different story.

“That’s unfair.”

At the slightly dejected tone, Leo reached out and playfully ruffled Harrison’s hair, pushing it back.

“Do the kids beg you to let them come to the circuit too?”

In truth, inviting Adam and Finn to the circuit would mean Harrison could see them too, but neither of them had ever tried that approach before.

“Would it be fun if they came?”

Though his tone was skeptical, Leo simply responded.

“There are lots of kids their age who come. I went to my first race at five, and you were six.”

So, it wouldn’t be an issue, but everyone was mindful of the implications.

“Would your dad allow it?”

“If the kids say they want to go, what’s he gonna do?”

Leo said it casually, but he continued.

“But if they end up wanting to try karting because of it, you’re the one who’s gotta deal with it.”

That was exactly the possibility no one wanted. Of course, karting itself wasn’t the problem. The worry was that they’d get too hooked on it to keep it just a hobby. Leo was already a case study, and Harrison was an even more extreme example.

“And I’ll be the one they resent.”

“They wouldn’t resent you.”

Leo replied reflexively, but maybe, just maybe, they might resent him a little. Karting isn’t exactly a common or everyday hobby. Thanks to Harrison, his younger siblings had naturally been exposed to it, and Leo’s dad, Johan, knew all too well from experience that it could potentially be dangerous. So, he wasn’t fond of it.

“Maybe they’d hold a bit of a grudge?”

When Leo added this, Harrison looked at him calmly.

“You’re responsible too.”

Leo brushed off the gentle attempt to shift blame.

“Realistically, would the kids want to kart because of me or because of you? They’d want to do it because they think it’s cool watching you race.”

Besides his half-siblings in Switzerland, Leo also had two half-siblings in England: a younger brother, Caleb, and a younger sister, Elizabeth. Both had tried karting, and Nora had too.

At least with Caleb, Elizabeth, and Nora, you could say Leo had some influence. But Leo had quit driving before Adam and Finn were even born. So, it was perfectly fine to pass all the responsibility to Harrison now.

“I started karting because I wanted to look cool to you.”

Leo glanced at Harrison. What nonsense. He was already karting before they even met. Still, it wasn’t a bad thing to hear, so Leo leaned in to kiss his cheek, only for Harrison to grab the back of his neck and pull him into a full kiss.

The playful yet affectionate sudden contact made Leo laugh through the gap, but he grabbed Harrison’s cheek and pulled away.

“Anyway, if that happens, you’re dealing with it.”

“Keep them from karting?”

“Harry, you think you’ve got that kind of power?”

“Exactly.”

At the all-too-easy response, Leo stared into Harrison’s brown eyes, still holding his cheek.

“You’d have to teach them.”

At that, Harrison’s soft gaze briefly shifted away. Tilting his head to follow, their eyes met again. They both knew Harrison couldn’t do that. During the year they spent at Leo’s grandfather’s villa, the younger siblings naturally visited often.

Finn was too young, and Adam was just old enough to try karting. When they did, unlike Leo or their grandfather, Harrison repeatedly checked to make sure it was okay to let them try.

And that wasn’t new. He’d been the same with Caleb, Elizabeth, and Nora when they tried karting. Elizabeth had karted the longest, but after she crashed on a wet track and hesitated to return, Leo encouraged her to give it another shot. Harrison, on the other hand, said if it wasn’t fun anymore and felt scary, she should stop.

What a contradiction. He seemed oblivious to the worries of those watching him, but in truth, Harrison understood that worry, anxiety, and concern better than anyone. He never wanted to experience it again.

“For now, let’s delay inviting them to the track as long as possible.”

His soft voice and gaze, almost pleading yet apologetic, made Leo sigh heavily and nod.

“I’ll call them.”

As he spoke, Harrison took Leo’s hand, interlocking their fingers.

“Yeah.”

Leo rested his head on Harrison’s shoulder. The clasped hand was warm, the shoulder solid. Almost worryingly perfect.

The Monza circuit, with its long straights, favored cars with strong engine power. But at this point, more than halfway through the season, every engine was inevitably worn out, including ABW’s. On top of that, if Harrison or Nate changed their engine again, they’d face a penalty and have to start from the back.

Since other teams were in a similar boat, they used their existing engines for practice and qualifying, but for some reason, their speeds were particularly sluggish. Harrison barely managed 8th, and Nate 11th in qualifying.

At that point, the team considered swapping the engine entirely and starting from the back to overtake, given how much Monza relies on engine performance. But if they took that gamble and failed to overtake, the result could be disastrous. ABW’s Ellington engines were never great for straight-line speed to begin with, making the risk too high.

So, heading into the race, their only hope was Harrison. Monza is a high-speed circuit with a mix of straights and corners, requiring drivers to brake from over 300 km/h to below 100 km/h. This suited Harrison’s distinctive driving style.

The race began, and though Harrison started in 8th, he lived up to everyone’s expectations by overtaking two cars right at the start, climbing to 6th. Maybe not a podium, but 4th seemed within reach.

But as the chaos of the first lap settled and drivers began planning their next strategies, the 4th and 5th-placed cars ahead of Harrison collided during a corner battle. The 5th-placed car spun wildly, rapidly closing in on Harrison’s car. Fortunately, Harrison swerved sharply, though it looked like the cars might have made contact.

“Anyone hurt? My front wing okay?”

Harrison’s urgent voice was quickly followed by Manuel’s response.

“Both drivers are fine. Come to the pits.”

“Great, fuck, just perfect. This is why I fucking love racing.”

The biting sarcasm in his radio, likely censored for the race highlight reel, was unmistakable. The gamble to hold off on a pit stop in case of a safety car had paid off, but it led to needing a front wing change, making it a failure overall.

Tire changes take about 3 seconds, but a front wing change takes over 10. During a safety car period, cars bunch up, so factoring in pit entry and exit, Harrison’s 4th place would likely drop outside the top 10. Given the engine’s condition, overtaking was uncertain.

As Manuel instructed, Harrison pitted. The crew, ready with a new front wing and tires, swapped the tires in an impressive 2.3 seconds for ABW, but the front wing took 12 seconds despite their best efforts.

Fortunately, drivers behind Harrison also pitted, but his stop took over twice as long, rendering the “fortune” meaningless. Rejoining the track far down the order from 4th, Harrison followed the safety car with other cars and, as the race resumed, overtook the car ahead at the next corner.

On a circuit already demanding strong, late braking, Harrison pushed even harder for overtakes, raising concerns about whether the brakes would hold up. Brake temperature management was fundamental, but Harrison had long complained about ABW’s brake temperature issues, a chronic problem.

Yet, he pushed those brakes so hard that he’d already climbed to 9th. Even without seeing his face, his anger was palpable.

“Manny.”

Harrison’s voice over the team radio was unusually low and calm. A brief silence followed before his flat tone continued.

“I don’t know what’s wrong, but the car feels off.”

“Got it, Harry. We’ll check.”

As the communication cut off, Leo glanced at the pit wall. Manuel’s profile, speaking into his headset, wasn’t clear enough to read his expression, but Leo felt uneasy and approached.

Manuel was still talking on the engineers’ channel. Not wanting to interrupt, Leo turned to Simon instead.

“Is there a problem?”

Simon lifted one side of his headset and looked at Leo.

“We’re checking if there’s an issue.”

When Leo asked again, Simon pointed at the screen. Nate was a few places behind Harrison, outside the points but pushing to overtake.

“Harry, block James as much as possible.”

“What the hell? James isn’t the one behind me, is he?”

Indeed, James was the driver behind Harrison, but there was some distance.

“Right. Keep him from closing the gap.”

This meant slowing down to reduce the gap with James, preventing him from gaining speed. If Harrison defended against the car right behind him, keeping the gap tight, it would help Nate avoid losing ground and potentially score points. Leo, watching the standings, understood the request immediately, but Harrison likely didn’t.

“What the fuck does that…”

The request came with one key condition: it assumed Harrison wouldn’t finish. If he could finish, he’d naturally push to overtake the car ahead, not block the one behind.

Realizing this, Harrison fell silent for a moment before responding.

“Got it.”

Leo turned to Manuel.

“If he keeps going like this, he could crash. We need to bring him in now.”

The pit wall was loud with the sound of cars, but Manuel’s words came through all too clearly. They weren’t on the radio, so they must be on the engineers’ channel. That meant there was an issue with Harrison’s car. Manuel’s judgment was that Harrison needed to pit immediately, but for the team’s points, they were leaving him out.

F1 cars transmit everything—steering wheel adjustments, brake force, coolant temperature, battery voltage—via telemetry to the pit wall. Engineers can spot issues the driver might not feel and inform them.

But in this case, Harrison felt the problem, and Manuel agreed he should pit. He had to come in. Whatever the issue was, it could worsen.

“There’s no downforce at the rear.”

Following the team’s orders, Harrison reduced the gap with the driver behind, blocking an overtake attempt at a corner with zero margin. Not giving the pursuing driver any room meant the defense was risky. Both needed space to avoid a collision.

But Harrison, perhaps feeling he had nothing to lose since he’d likely retire soon, gave no quarter, defending as if daring the other driver to hit him.

Sure enough, the driver behind was visibly cursing Harrison over the radio on the monitor. At that moment, Nate overtook the driver ahead of him, reaching 11th—two places behind Harrison. Thanks to Harrison holding James back, the gap wasn’t large, and if Nate overtook the next driver, he’d enter the points in 10th. If Harrison pitted and retired, Nate would be at least 9th.

Finally, Manuel’s voice came through the headset.

“Harry, come to the pits.”

Harrison, busy defending against Nate’s pursuer, had let the car behind him pull away. Despite needing to pit, no response came.

“Now.”

“Harry.”

“Now. Come to the pits.”

Manuel’s firm, businesslike tone was followed by Harrison’s voice over the radio.

“Got it.”

As Harrison pitted, Nate overtook another driver, reaching 9th. The mechanics should’ve been thrilled at the overtake, but with another driver retiring, the garage’s mood wasn’t exactly bright.

Soon, the broadcast showed Harrison heading to the pits, but his car slowed on the way and eventually stopped. It couldn’t be. The issue seemed to be engine failure—after all the effort to avoid changing it.

“Harry?”

Even at Manuel’s call, Harrison sat silently in the cockpit for a moment before climbing out. An official came to guide him back to the pits, and Harrison, removing his helmet, waved to the spectators in that section. The smile on his face, visible on the screen, was perfunctory, and everyone knew he wasn’t in the mood to smile.

Fittingly, when Harrison entered the garage, his face was completely expressionless. Simon started to approach but stopped, and Manuel hesitated too. When a race went wrong, Harrison would curse if another team was to blame, sulk if it was his fault, or quietly suppress his anger if it was the team’s.

In this case, it was a mix of another driver’s crash and a car issue. He’d cursed right after the incident, so now it was time to bottle up his anger. The team, knowing this pattern, pretended not to notice as he headed straight to the driver’s private room, though they were all anxiously watching him.

Leo didn’t particularly want to deal with Harrison in this state, but he was his partner, so he started toward him.

Suddenly, a loud thud came from the room. Reflexively opening the door, Leo saw a water bottle rolling carelessly on the floor, with Harrison standing in the middle of the room, head bowed.

Leo quietly closed the door behind him and looked at Harrison. He must’ve sensed someone there but kept his eyes closed, head down, before finally looking up. His cold expression felt unfamiliar. Since when had this guy learned to bottle up his emotions so quickly?

Leo stopped Harrison as he moved to leave.

“You can stay a bit longer.”

At that, Harrison leaned his forehead on Leo’s shoulder and wrapped his arms around him.

In that warmth, Leo thought back to the pit wall. Why had he stayed silent? Why had he just watched? Knowing it was dangerous, why had he let him stay on the track? Was it really because it was overstepping, that rational judgment? There hadn’t been a single moment when that mattered more than him.

Pushing those thoughts aside, Leo focused on the breath against his neck. Soon, a knock would come, Harrison would face questions about his retirement, then return to the garage to review data with the engineers and analyze the race with Nate once it ended. But for now, the body in his arms was whole.

Leo held him, quietly bearing the weight of time.

Japanese Grand Prix

Suzuka Circuit