LDR Ch 19

“Other people, those with different jobs, say they’ve achieved their dreams when they succeed, but we’re said to live in a dream. You were like that too.”

Leo had often heard such talk. The difference in those words, which he had never consciously noticed before, suddenly felt significant. He still didn’t fully grasp what it meant. Then Lorenzo responded.

“I still think that way. Anyone you ask would probably say the same.”

Leo shifted his gaze away from Harrison, whom he had been watching.

“But now, I don’t know what more I need to do here.”

Lorenzo’s voice no longer trembled as chaotically as it had when he first entered the room.

“Starting with karting, entering one or two competitions, then advancing to bigger events broadcast on TV, climbing through F4, F3, F2 step by step, getting into a junior team around F3 or, if lucky, F2, and making it to F1. Racing, earning points, standing on the podium, winning a Grand Prix, securing the Drivers’ Championship, and bringing the Constructors’ Championship to the team.”

His voice, without a trace of hesitation, was as clear as if he had rehearsed it countless times.

“Harry, what’s next?”

“You’ll go to headquarters for the season’s full debrief.”

At the unwavering, steady response, Leo looked at Lorenzo.

“Harry, you really.”

Lorenzo laughed as if he had no choice but to accept it.

“You love racing.”

Leo didn’t need to see Harrison’s face to know his expression. His eyebrows would be slightly furrowed, as if to say, “What’s so obvious about that?”

“I still love it too. But now, not as a driver.”

Then, in a much more relaxed atmosphere, they talked about this and that. Listening to Harrison occasionally respond to Lorenzo, Leo reacted appropriately to the conversation while thinking about daily life.

Squeezing out every possible moment to discuss the car with staff at headquarters, talking with on-site engineers and mechanics at race venues, reflecting on their efforts while getting into the car to race, whether disappointed by a ruined race or embraced by everyone for a good result, and then heading back to headquarters the next day—that was Harrison’s routine.

Knowing both the repetition and the variations, Leo grew curious. What lay beyond that?

As Leo sat on the private jet, staring blankly out the window with an unrelenting hangover, the last passenger boarded and sat in front of him.

“Where’s Harry?”

Lorenzo, who had been at the same party as Leo the previous night and was in a similar state, looked pale as he scanned the jet’s interior. The others were all asleep in the back. He must not have remembered Harrison saying he’d leave earlier, a sign he still wasn’t fully sober.

“England.”

As Leo said, Harrison had gone to England at the invitation of Ellington, the engine supplier and former long-time team owner, while Leo was on the private jet to Monaco for business.

Since he was heading to Monaco anyway, Leo had offered to give a ride to a few people from the party who lived there, including Lorenzo.

While everyone else was sleeping off their hangovers in the back, Leo and Lorenzo, unable to sleep properly when hungover, were the only ones awake, staring blankly out the window. Suddenly, Lorenzo asked.

“Does he really go to training every time the season ends? I’ve heard it’s physical training, but also technical camps.”

“Did you get a job somewhere?”

Many drivers took jobs at motorsport-related broadcasters after retiring, so despite Lorenzo saying he’d take a break, Leo wondered if he’d already landed a lucrative gig.

“And is it true you went on factory tours last time?”

Leo couldn’t understand how Lorenzo always managed to hear such accurate rumors. As Lorenzo suspected, Harrison went for physical training with a trainer and a few drivers from other categories after the season ended, then stayed with headquarters’ engineers to study the next season’s car.

Since Harrison was rarely around in the winter, Leo had gone on factory tours with Simon. Most factories were near Silverstone, and they accepted tour requests around winter, so it wasn’t difficult. Leo would be transitioning to a desk job next year, so he wouldn’t go this time.

“Which channel?”

At Leo’s question, Lorenzo laughed but quickly grimaced and clutched his head.

“Tea?”

When Leo asked, Lorenzo looked at the tea in front of him and answered as if repulsed.

“I’ll have water.”

Calling the flight attendant to bring water, Lorenzo drank slowly with a haggard face. Watching him made Leo feel worse himself. Normally, Leo wouldn’t have drunk so much, but he’d indulged in response to Lorenzo’s plea that he couldn’t fully enjoy himself during the glorious yet grueling season.

They weren’t exactly known for letting loose like that. In fact, everyone on this jet had come straight from the club. Amid it all, Lorenzo had gone back somewhere to retrieve something he’d forgotten.

[Arrived?]

At Harrison’s timely message, Leo rubbed his throbbing temples and typed a reply.

[Almost there]

Before he could add “You?” another message from Harrison arrived.

[You guys said you’d go straight to the hotel after the bar.]

They had said that. There weren’t usually clubs open on a weekday afternoon, but they’d open for drivers. So yesterday afternoon, Harrison had joined them at the club but left early for his flight. The plan was to have a quick drink at the bar afterward and call it a night.

But somehow, someone they met at the bar said they could get a club to open with a phone call, so they went, and it didn’t end until this morning.

“Did you post about us going to the club on Instagram?”

Leo hadn’t told Harrison yet, so if he knew, there was only one way. Harrison didn’t use social media, so normally he wouldn’t know, but since he was at an event, a staff member must have shown him.

“No? Or maybe I did? I don’t know. Why?”

Without responding directly, Leo sent Harrison a half-hearted excuse.

[It was just us]

[And a few people we know]

Before they started dating, Harrison was the one mingling at parties, but somehow Leo always ended up making excuses. At parties together, Harrison would appear out of nowhere to stand by Leo’s side whenever he talked to someone, watching closely. He knew Leo wouldn’t cheat, let alone pick up strangers at such events, but he still stuck close whenever someone approached.

“Who is it?”

“Harry.”

“He’s upset he left early? Tell him it wasn’t that kind of party.”

At that, Leo glanced at Lorenzo.

“That kind of party?”

“You know. Those kinds of parties.”

Of course he knew. The parties Harrison religiously attended after every Grand Prix from age 18 to early 19. Leo frowned slightly and looked down at his screen.

“Where are you?”

[Heading to headquarters.]

As Leo pondered how to remind Harrison he had no right to be suspicious, a familiar voice interrupted. Turning naturally, he saw Lorenzo on a video call, holding his phone. At Leo’s gesture, Lorenzo slowly turned the phone to show the jet’s interior.

“You called Leo because you were worried we were having fun without you.”

Leo looked at the camera now showing him and Harrison’s face on the screen. Harrison’s gaze seemed to accuse Leo of wrongdoing. Before Leo could explain, Lorenzo cut in.

“We just rented a club and drank. It’s not like they hold the parties you like on weekdays anyway.”

Leo took the phone from Lorenzo and stared at the screen. Harrison, who had just been looking at Leo accusingly, was now feigning indifference.

“What kind of parties does Harry like?”

Asking Lorenzo while looking at Harrison on the screen, Lorenzo answered excitedly.

“Oh, you don’t know? Right, you were preparing for college then. As soon as he turned 18, he went crazy for parties, hitting one after every Grand Prix. Even after entering F1, he did it for a while, but at some point—when was it?—he suddenly stopped going. Before that, he never missed one after a Grand Prix.”

“Harry liked parties?”

“But he didn’t stay long. You know.”

He knew. Without needing to say it, Leo conveyed the answer with his eyes, and Harrison finally broke his silence.

[I don’t like parties anymore.]

Anymore? So he did like them back then? Despite hearing it multiple times, Leo’s frustration with Harrison’s past flared, and he handed the phone back to Lorenzo.

[Drink moderately, everyone.]

At Harrison’s hollow, half-hearted words, Lorenzo responded with disbelief.

“Since when do you care about that?”

[You’re getting old.]

This time, Lorenzo fell silent. At just 31, he couldn’t argue back. Annoyed by his partner’s snarky remark, Leo hung up the call for Lorenzo.

“Why are you always the one contacting Harry first?”

Harrison wasn’t the type to reach out without a reason. He was consistently like that. So after a fight, unless the other person made the first move, things just lingered.

Harrison only tried to resolve things first with Leo, both then and now, which meant Lorenzo suffered a lot from it. The fact that Harrison and Lorenzo’s relationship had lasted this long was entirely due to Lorenzo’s efforts. This season, it hadn’t worked out, leading to awkwardness until Lorenzo recently reached out to mend things. It was a recurring pattern.

“Steve said something about that once.”

“Ugh…”

At Lorenzo’s words, a groan came from the back. Turning together, they saw Stephan, who had been sleeping under a blanket, sit up in discomfort.

“Did you just say my name?”

His reflex to wake up at the mention of his name was almost uncanny.

“You said before that Harry drives both the people he likes and those he doesn’t crazy. That’s what we were talking about.”

“Oh, if it’s about bashing Harry, count me in.”

Stephan shuffled over and sat next to Lorenzo. Though Stephan had teased Harrison early on, it was mutual in intensity and long in the past. More importantly, having been teammates for five years, Stephan always saw Leo when he visited Harrison in the garage.

“Then I’m out. If I bash Harry now, it’ll make headlines.”

Back then, Leo could trash-talk Harrison without issue, but now, as something like a team owner’s representative, saying anything could lead to headlines like “ABW Owner Says Harrison Doesn’t Fit the Team” the next morning.

“I won’t tell anyone.”

“I can’t promise that.”

At Stephan and Lorenzo’s simultaneous responses, Stephan pointed at Lorenzo.

“Then if it makes headlines, it’s Renzo’s fault.”

Lorenzo’s face immediately showed indignation. Stephan was the one who always badmouthed Harrison in the media, so why blame Lorenzo for one joke? Still, Lorenzo seemed glum, having used the media himself this season.

“So what were you talking about?”

Not wanting to dwell on it, Stephan changed the subject, and Lorenzo answered.

“Leo was asking why I hang out with Harry. He doesn’t call first unless it’s for something he needs. And I’ve never seen him apologize first. Steve, you at least saw him after he came up. I raced with him in juniors sometimes and stuck with him in F2. Guess how many times he apologized first?”

“None, right? What’s the point of stating the obvious?”

At Stephan’s dismissive response and Lorenzo’s agreeing nod, Leo wanted to defend Harrison but, unsurprisingly, had no defense.

“Steve, you’re no better.”

Attacking instead, Leo left Stephan speechless, munching on crackers the flight attendant had brought. Until last year, Lorenzo was the odd one for admitting fault, while everyone else blamed others as much as possible.

“Anyway, Harry has a knack for driving both those he likes and those he doesn’t insane.”

At the sudden topic shift, Lorenzo nodded in agreement.

“Exactly. He’s annoying when he’s annoying. But when you want to talk racing, he’s the first person you think of. No matter how irritating he is, I’ve never seen anyone love racing as much as him.”

“When I first saw him—not the very first time, but when we became teammates—I thought, what kind of guy is this? Usually, inexperienced drivers fumble around, but he gathered all the data he could, analyzed it, and studied everything: where I braked in which corner, where I understeered, why I took a corner deep, every single detail. Not just me, but other drivers too.”

It was a grievance built up over five years.

“But then, even though I hated asking him, I had no choice but to ask if he noticed anything wrong with the car. He’d harass the engineers for days to figure something out. And since I asked first, he’d tell me everything without hiding it. That’s what drove me crazy.”

“That’s all he’s got.”

At Lorenzo’s response, Leo furrowed his brow, but Stephan nodded as if it were obvious.

“Harry’s useless outside of racing. He doesn’t know how to do anything else. He doesn’t even want to do anything else. I’ve never seen a driver with so little competitive drive. Outside of racing, he doesn’t care about winning anything.”

Having been teammates for five years, they did various content together, often involving competitions. Leo recalled tennis, cycling, basketball, cooking, swimming, and word games. While Stephan gave his all to beat Harrison, Harrison only did the bare minimum.

“Harry’s the type who’d die if he wasn’t a driver.”

At the sudden remark, Stephan and Leo’s gazes snapped to Lorenzo, who paused thoughtfully before continuing.

“Even if he wants it that badly, losing his seat wouldn’t literally kill him.”

Stephan thought for a moment before responding.

“I was supposed to retire this year, so I don’t even remember that feeling.”

In the industry, only Ferrari’s top brass, Harrison, and Leo knew about Lorenzo’s retirement. In contrast, everyone knew Stephan had planned to retire this year but was persuaded by the team to stay one more year until next season.

“I wouldn’t die either. Even without being a driver, I’d manage somehow. Steve, you’ll grow your business. That guy wants to open a karting school, so he’ll do that. That one’s going to work in media, and that one’s always talking about seeing their kids, so they’ll do that.”

Pointing at the sleeping passengers one by one, Lorenzo’s voice trailed off briefly.

“But with Harry, I just can’t imagine. He doesn’t do anything but racing.”

Leo wanted to say something but couldn’t. No matter what he said, Stephan and Lorenzo would see through it instantly, having been so close to Harrison.

“Everyone who watches F1 knows that, so they all flock to him, for better or worse.”

“Leo probably knows that better than we do.”

“True. That’s probably why you took him.”

In their lighthearted tones, Leo thought of Harrison. He’d never considered this scenario before. Harrison had been a driver since they first met, and Leo had never imagined him as anything else. Even trying to now, the result was the same. Harrison would retire someday, but Leo couldn’t picture it.

“Oh, Leo, you’re coming tonight, right?”

At the shifted topic, Leo rummaged through his memory. They’d talked a lot yesterday, but being drunk, he wasn’t sure what Stephan meant.

“Tonight?”

“We’re having a party on the yacht.”

“They’re really doing that?”

“They are, right? Probably? So far?”

Even though it was his yacht, Stephan sounded unsure, and Leo vaguely recalled yesterday’s conversation. They’d said it’d be a shame to end things like this, so they’d head straight to the yacht in Monaco.