Chapter 1 – Richard #2
“Look, David,” I start, needing to get my mind away from a naked David, and back to the matter at hand, “as I’ve told you, you have years ahead of you, and I know Vincent isn’t going to let you go without a fight. You’re too good. Too valuable.”
“Maybe, but have you also considered that there might be something else making me want to leave, other than just driving?”
David glances at Lars and Vincent before turning back to look at me, and before I can question what he means, he walks away.
I have to fight every instinct in me, telling me to run after him and ask him what he means.
Does he want to get away from me? Why? We agreed a long time ago that ‘us’ not being together was the best option. Why would that have suddenly changed?
“One final question,” Charmaine announces.
“How do you think your ‘coming out’ has affected the industry?” The journalist asks, and I suddenly want to pay attention to the answer both Lars and Vincent give.
“I would hope it can only be a good thing,” Lars states. “Even though we have women in the teams, we all must admit, this is a very male oriented industry. I would hope us coming out, and the acceptance we have received, would encourage more of the LGBTQ community to look at joining the F1 family.
“We’re hoping it gives others out there the courage to come out, too,” Vincent adds, and with those final words, looks over to me.
“Thank you for your time, ladies and gentlemen, but our time is up,” Charmaine announces, as she rises to her feet.
All the journalists file out of the room, until it’s just me, Lars, and Vincent left, but leaving the doors wide open.
“Lars, I’ll meet you back upstairs. I need to talk to Richard for a moment,” Vincent says, and leans over, giving him a kiss.
“I don't think I’m ever going to get used to seeing you kiss a man, but I’m so happy for you,” I say.
“You deserve to be happy, too. I know you told me earlier that you’re happy being single, but you were lying. I’ve been your friend too long now.”
“I’m fine.”
“Did my words, just now, not mean anything to you?” Vincent asks.
“Why would your words mean anything to me?” I ask, staring at Vincent.
“You are such a dick at times.”
“Why am I suddenly a dick?” I’m getting so confused with where this conversation is going.
“Seriously?” Vincent asks, throwing his hands up in the air, and goes to walk past me. For some reason he’s pissed with me.
“Vincent, what?” I shout after him, causing a few people, just outside the door, to turn and look at us.
“I know, okay? It took me way too long to figure it out, and maybe I never would have if I hadn't found Lars.”
“Know what?” I ask, but I have a sinking feeling in my stomach that tells me I know what’s coming.
“That you’re gay.”
I just stand there looking at my best friend, wondering if I should finally come out to him, or if I should deny it, again. Vincent hasn't said anything more, just keeps on staring at me. The look on his face tells me I have no option but to confirm it.
“How did you figure it out?” I ask. “And why are you only bringing it up now?”
“Honestly, there was something in the way you wished me and Lars all the best. Maybe even your acceptance. There was a longing in your voice that I had never heard before. When I mentioned it to Lars, he suggested you could be gay.”
“Lars knows? Oh, for fuck's sake.”
“No, Lars doesn't know. I told him he was crazy, and that I had met too many of your girlfriends for you to be gay, but then I thought about my past. I had girlfriends too, and I acted like you. I can’t remember seeing a single press clip of you kissing a girl. Holding hands, yes, but never kissing.”
“So, I never kissed a girl in public,” I say, not sure why I’m suddenly trying to make Vincent change his mind about me.
“But there was something else, too, something that I could never put my finger on. Like there was something you’ve wanted to tell me, but couldn't, or wouldn't.”
“I’ve wanted to tell you.” Finally breaking down, I know there’s nothing I can do now, no matter how I try to tell him he's wrong, he wouldn't believe me. “Especially when you came out, but I couldn't.”
“I wish you’d told me, but I understand. You didn't have to tell anyone if you weren’t ready.”
“I guess I wasn't as good at hiding it as I thought,” I mumble back.
“Oh, you were. It’s just, we’ve been friends too long, and our actions are very similar.”
“So, what now?”
“What do you mean?” Vincent questions.
“Do we make an announcement? Tell the team?”
“Richard, if you don't want to come out, then you don't have to. No one needs to know, but I would suggest we get you some iron clad NDA’s. I might have some old ones.”
“I don't need any NDA’s,” I say, and regret the words the moment they’re out of my mouth. What the hell is wrong with me tonight?
“Really? Does this mean you have someone special already? How on earth have you kept him quiet all this time? Is he in the industry? Is that why he hasn't sold your story?”
“Vincent, no there isn't anyone special,” I reply. The words make me feel sick, because I know they’re a lie, but I can’t tell him about David.
“But there was, am I right?” The excitement that was in Vincent’s voice just a few seconds ago, dissipates.
“There was,” I say, “but it's over, and I’m not ready to date, or scratch an itch, or anything, so please, no NDA’s.”
“Rich.” My shortened name sounds so different coming from my best friend. Whereas, with David, it sent my feelings haywire, from Vincent, it’s just a deep understanding friendship. “I’m sorry he hurt you.”
“I think we hurt each other,” I say back. Vincent gives me a nod, but doesn't push me for further information.
“Look, when you’re ready, we’ll find you someone, but maybe someone outside the industry. I hate having to watch Lars drive around those tracks.”
“I thought you said when Lars is in the car, he’s just your driver.”
“Utter bullshit for the press. It’s hell on earth,” Vincent says, with a smile. “But Lars loves this sport, and I have no intentions of trying to stop him.”
I can’t help but laugh as Vincent and I head out of the conference room and up to the team rooms, upstairs. We find Lars already dressed in black jeans and a white shirt that has the Montague Racing emblem embroidered in the corner.
“Dad called. He booked a table at the hotel restaurant. He wants to celebrate,” Lars says, as we get to him.
“I wanted to celebrate in a different way,” comes Vincent’s reply, and I wish I hadn't been standing close enough to hear that.
“Please, just go,” I tell them both. “I’ll finish up everything here. And Lars,” Lars turns to look at me, “Congratulations. Never thought I would see the day that this one would get married. I wonder if Hell has frozen over.”
“Richard, you are not funny,” Vincent replies.
“I disagree. I’m fucking hilarious,” I tell him.
A few hours later, I finally leave the track.
I must be one of the last ones here. The rest of the team are long gone, but I couldn't quite face going back to the hotel. After the events of today, I don’t want to be alone, but I don’t have anyone to be with.
I know if I call Vincent he would come and have a drink with me, but he’s with Lars and I don’t want to spoil their celebration.
Calling the lift, I resign myself to spending an evening on my own. Maybe, if I get up early enough, I can join the team as they get ready to leave. It wouldn’t surprise them, as I often do this, I have always liked being hands on.
When the ding of the lift lets me know it’s arrived, I finally feel settled.
Me going with the team is a great idea, but I’m so lost in my thoughts that I hadn't even noticed the lift had arrived on my floor, that I had gotten off, and knocked on his door till he was standing there, a towel wrapped around his waist, and a droplet of water running down his chest.
“Vincent knows about me,” I rushed out. “Can I come in?”
David hesitates, for a second, before holding the door open for me.