Chapter 34
Chapter Thirty-Four
Caleb
We get through Shanghai – the team a mess, with Nils being out and trying to get Anton somewhat ready to drive in the final two races. Johannes finishes top of the podium, putting him just two points behind Harper.
I put in a call to our company’s employee rep to ask if he can be available for a meeting with Nathan and some of the other higher-ups, as well as someone from HR. I’d like to get it sorted before we head to Abu Dhabi so Johannes can focus on his race and nothing else.
He can celebrate, hopefully as the new world champion, then we can get on a plane out of there where he’ll post a picture of us together so the world can know we’re together.
Nathan pencils us in for 6 a.m., which surely has to be a joke, but I know it’s about to be stupid busy today as we go into the final race week. I’m lucky to get everyone I need in the room at one time, including my very sleepy boyfriend.
* * *
‘What’s this all about?’ Nathan asks as he sits at the head of the conference table.
‘Caleb and I wanted to make it official that we are together. Happy to sign any HR forms needed, as we want it to be all above board and in the open.’
I wasn’t expecting him to take the lead on this, but it probably is best that it’s coming from him.
I’ve played all the potential scenarios they could take from this.
My position of power, Johannes’s position of power as star driver, the fact that I’m older than him, coercion etc…
I don’t want to give them any of that ammunition.
Nathan looks between me and Johannes, then to the CEO of the team. I can’t quite read the CEO. It’s almost like he doesn’t believe us but at the same time is about to pop a lid at us for doing this to him now.
‘Fantastic. Just what we need the week before the biggest race of this team’s life.’ Nathan drops his head into his hands like he’s ready to thump the table and I’m left wishing we’d maybe left this till next week, after the race.
‘We aren’t planning to announce it till after the season is over. We obviously don’t want to make it official while we’re still in Abu Dhabi,’ I throw in, hoping it’ll stop him completely overreacting.
‘I just… Are you serious?’ We both nod at Nathan, and Johannes reaches for my hand where it’s resting on the table. ‘And I thought it was bad when we were sitting on the story about you and Jackson Calder.’
‘You were what?’ Johannes asks. ‘You knew?’ Jo’s hand tenses in mine and I’m glad this wasn’t how I found out, because this would be shitty timing.
‘The PR team informed me that someone had sent in an anonymous picture of you two about eighteen months ago. We squashed it but kept tabs on you both in case it blew up.’
‘Jackson Calder and I have been over for a long time. There’s no bad blood between us, not anymore, if that’s what you’re worried about.’
‘Good to know,’ Nathan says dourly.
‘Caleb and I really want to give this a go. This isn’t us asking for permission. This is more of a heads-up. We’ve got statements written that have been approved by PR, and we plan to post them in the days following the race.
I’m so proud of how he’s stood his ground. He holds pretty much all the cards right now since it’s possible he could win the World Championship in a matter of days, so it’s about the only time he can afford to be cocky.
‘You don’t like to make this easy for us, do you, Johannes? First all the stuff with Harper, and then Jackson, and now your race engineer.’
I have a name.
I also feel annoyed on Johannes’ behalf. I can’t work out if maybe Nathan’s slightly homophobic or just a dick at this point, because straight drivers often get caught doing much worse than having a couple of relationships. Plus, Johannes’s thing with Jackson isn’t and has never been public.
‘Look, like Johannes said, we just wanted to let you know so you’re prepared,’ I add. ‘Now, I’m sure we’ve all got a lot to do, given we fly out today.’
I’m about ready to cut this delight of a meeting short.
As we stand up, Nathan starts barking orders to HR and PR about how to handle this.
It doesn’t matter either way to me. He can’t fire us for this and it’s done now. We have a flight to catch and the final race weekend to prepare for.
* * *
The week descends into chaos from that moment onwards.
Someone in the meeting has clearly been breaking confidentiality because most of the team knows by the time we get to FP1.
I’m subjected to a lot of whispering and second glances, but I can hardly bring myself to care.
It makes it easier for me and Johannes to not have to hide.
I don’t go back to my accommodation with the other engineers and I’m not complaining, because every morning I get to wake up to Johannes and how could anyone complain about that?
In work we’re completely professional like we’ve always been, and I’d challenge anyone to say otherwise. He’s performing well. And with just two points in it between him and Harper for the championship, that’s exactly what we need to see.
He qualifies in P2 – because Harper won’t give up without a fight – but I tell Jo that it doesn’t matter where he starts. He’s going to take this. It’s going to have to be the drive of his life, but he has it in him. I know it. I feel it.
Harper was just stupid fast in his single laps, but when it comes to today that’s not important. Being good over one lap means nothing when there’s fifty-eight to complete today.
Presenting Johannes with his last cup of coffee for the season is an emotional moment for both of us.
‘This changed it all. I hope you know that, Caleb,’ he says, coffee cup in one hand and my hand in his other as he squeezes it.
‘Nah, you changed it. This was just fuel for the journey.’ He’s shaking his head, but he doesn’t protest. He’s got a race suit to put on and a national anthem to stand for and then it’s go-time and I need to be at pit wall getting ready.
‘You’ve got this, handsome. Go kick your best friend’s ass.
’ I kiss his lips chastely before pulling away as he starts to laugh.
In the blink of an eye the race begins and all I can do is watch over him. He tries in the very first seconds to pull ahead of Harper, but he can’t get through.
There were 123 overtakes on this track last year. Johannes just needs one to bring this home.
Except the laps begin to tick down and Harper’s being, well, Harper, and making this impossible for us. He’s determined, but I don’t care. I want this for Johannes.
‘Box, box,’ I call out over the radio on lap thirty-two and he comes down the tunnel underneath the circuit into the pit lane. I watch the time it takes add up in the corner of my screen as I hope and pray for the quickest change over possible.
In a blink of an eye the wheels are on and ‘2.1’ flashes in the corner of the screen. Someone around me lets out a ‘Fuck, yeah,’ and my brain screams it, too. That’s exactly how it needed to be. You couldn’t write this.
Lap thirty-three begins and I’m on the edge of my seat.
The atmosphere around me grows tenser with every lap because the chances slip away with every one that goes by.
But Johannes never stops pushing, and with his fresh tyres and knowing that Harper pitted earlier than him, he’s playing it to his advantage.
He’s not overdoing it, but he’s making them work so that he won’t have to stop again.
Lap thirty-four hits us quicker than words and Johannes is now only 1.
2 seconds behind Harper. If he can just knock that pesky point two off before turn four, he’ll have DRS and a whole kilometre of straight to knock his best friend off the top position.
Except he can’t make it happen, not on this lap, because every time he gets closer, Harper pulls away.
It’s a frustrating game of push and pull and I’m ready to tear my hair out.
And then lap thirty-five begins, and my eyes light up when Johannes hits the 0.
9 mark going into turn four and this could be it.
This really could be it. ‘You’re in DRS range, Johannes,’ I comment, trying to keep my voice steady.
I don’t want to put any pressure on him unless I really have to. He knows what he needs to do.
‘Got it,’ he confirms and he’s not lying. He takes turn five like the absolute champion he is – and before I know it, he’s pulling up to the very back of Harper, the gap between them hardly noticeable. Then the second he knows the time is right, Jo pulls out to the right and speeds past him.
The way the pit wall erupts! And then less than half a second later, the paddock behind us goes absolutely insane. I’ve never seen anything like this, and I’ve watched Johannes win a lot of races at this point.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m out of my seat trying not to knock my headset off, keeping my eyes on the screen but celebrating, nonetheless. At the same time, I know it’s not over.
It’s wheel to wheel championship racing from then on. Lap forty Harper steals back, but lap forty-one comes just as fast and Johannes is right there taking it back and I’m sure the millions watching round the world are absolutely loving every second of this.
I’ve sweated through my RBF polo but I don’t care. It’s so fucking exciting.
‘Hold on, just hold on,’ I whisper to myself as they both brake going into turn six of lap forty-three and it could go either way as to who comes out on top after the turn.
Luckily it’s Johannes and I allow myself to breathe for a second, until they reach turn nine and Harper, the little bastard that he is, zips past Johannes into the lead again.
‘Fuuuuuckk,’ I growl and Ian lays a hand on my shoulder.
‘He’s got this,’ he says over the noise of everyone panicking around us.
He’s at least given me a bit of a break after we made it official with the team – now that it’s above board and signed off, it’s like Ian actually approves.
I didn’t need it from him, but I have looked up to him since joining the team, so it is nice.
I have to wait till lap forty-eight to breathe again, when, as they go into turn twelve, Harper makes a small mistake as he blind-brakes and Johannes capitalises on it in the best possible way.
He makes the last sector of that lap his bitch, putting a second and then two seconds between him and Harper – and finally he’s free.
He laps two drivers and finally speeds into clean air, Harper stuck behind the pair as the clock hits a six-second gap going into lap fifty.
Five to go. It’s my job to keep all eyes on the screen, but I couldn’t look away even if I tried.
It’s not been easy, but it was never going to be, not against Harper.
He’s the current world champion for a reason.
But right now, flying down the straight between turns five and six, I couldn’t be prouder to be Johannes Müller’s boyfriend.
It’s beautiful to watch and this is why F1 is the best sport in the world.
Nothing compares, nothing could possibly be as thrilling as this.
Watching someone test the absolute limits of a car and a track and their mind and body.
Don’t get me wrong, there’s a new layer of fear to the sport after falling for the man in the car, but I won’t let that get to me.
Not ever. It’s my job to keep him safe and if I allowed that fear to creep to the surface, I’d have to quit.
Three laps to go and it’s all coming together. I can hardly breathe, yet at the same time I’m beyond focused on being Johannes’s eyes and ears, keeping him together on the track.
Nathan paces behind me, his headset discarded like he can’t watch or listen. I can’t imagine how much money he’ll make if Johannes brings the team the biggest win of all. I hate that that’s what it seems to be about for him, not that he truly cares about Johannes and this team.
I won’t look away, though. Not with two laps to go, not with Johannes silent and focused. I don’t want to miss a thing when the man I love becomes world champion.
‘Last lap,’ I say into the mic as he crosses the line again. I’m not sure why because he’s definitely aware. Probably the most aware he’s ever been of a lap in his whole life.