Chapter Not Today, At Least #2
Matt takes the other corner. “So… what’s up?”
Robert takes a deep breath and asks, “Did you ever come out to my dad?”
“Um…” It wasn’t really a coming out, more like an accident. “Not exactly?”
“But you talked with him about it? About being gay?”
“Yeah, once.” It wasn’t weird to have those big talks with Mr. Miller when he was the only adult they’d see for weeks at a time.
“Once,” Robert repeats with a scoff.
Was he upset he wasn’t the first to know? “What’s this about?”
“Did my dad ever tell you to choose between being gay and racing in Formation 1?”
“No.” Matt was never under the impression his sexuality was a choice. “Like I said before, he just cautioned—”
“He told you to hide it.”
“Well, yeah.”
Robert stands again and paces in front of the television, his arms swinging. It’s a nervous thing, or a frustrated thing—something he used to do when he was filled with rage, anguish, or any other sort of big, negative emotion.
Matt watches him and struggles to find something to say. “That was years ago, though. Why are you bringing it up now? It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine,” Robert growls. “Every single time you say something’s fine, it’s not fine.”
From his seated position, it’s like being scolded by a schoolteacher. Matt stands and keeps his chin raised. “You like your privacy too, right? What’s the difference between your silence and mine?”
“This isn’t about privacy, it’s about fear. The way you talked to me backstage? That was fear. And it was my father who did that to you.”
“You can’t blame your father for—”
“The fuck I can!” Robert’s hands fly out, punctuating his frustration. “He’s always been such a Texas boy. A misogynist, racist, homophobic asshole! For his words to still be haunting—”
“I probably would’ve kept it quiet anyways!” Matt snaps back. “Fuck knows I’ve always been the weird one—I don’t need to be gay on top of it. Your dad did me a favor.”
“Oh yeah, what a big fuckin’ favor. Who the fuck is Matthew?!”
Matt tenses. “That’s different.”
“I don’t see how! Tell me why I looked at the fuckin’ Form 4 roster, and there was some ‘Matthew Hernandez’ bullshit staring back at me. What happened to Mateo? What happened to Teo?!”
Mateo needed sponsors. Even moreso after his father died and left him the man of the house. If changing his name made him more appealing to people who had money, Matt would've become anyone.
“I saw that and I knew my dad had a hand—”
“Stop!” This conversation has already gone on for too long.
“Your father is the only reason I’m able to live my dream.
I don’t give a fuck if people call me the wrong name or if I don’t date anyone or whatever.
He gave me this life, and I won’t just sit around while you tear it to pieces. Not everyone can be you!”
“I don’t want you to be me!” The cords of Robert’s neck stand out when he yells. “And you don’t owe him anything.”
“Ha!”
“You don’t.” Robert’s stare is unwavering as he says, “Just let it go. You don’t owe him anything.”
Oh, of course. Silver-Spoon-Fed Robert doesn’t understand money makes the world turn. He doesn’t know that countless other poor kids out there have the same dream, the same hunger to race, without any means to back it.
“Only several million dollars,” Matt bites back.
“It wasn’t that much.”
Semantics. “Whatever the cost, it was more than my family ever had. Jesus, you still don’t get it, do you?! If your father didn’t invest in me, I’d be doing oil changes at my dad’s old garage for a living right now. Why can’t you understand that?”
“I—” Robert starts, but he snaps his mouth closed again. He may be silent, but his clenched jaw is screaming that he’s wrong and he doesn’t have a retort.
“Ya wanna say somethin’?” Matt taunts.
Robert narrows his glare and pinches his mouth tighter.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. You need to show your father some respect. Neither of us would be here if it weren’t for him.”
“Okay, no.” Robert steps forward, towering over Matt. “No, I showed restraint, but this is too fucking much. You wanna talk money? My dad paid for summer camp when I turned five. He also paid for you, because I liked you more than the kids who could’ve afforded it. Happy?”
‘You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t like you when I was four’ is such an old take.
“I knew that already.”
“Yes.” Robert nods, just once. “But that is the only thing—the only thing—he paid for.”
“What?” Matt cracks a confused smile.
Did Robert honestly believe that Mama had cleaned his giant-ass house often enough to finance an entire karting career? Or did he think everything else was freely handed to him?
“I paid for everything.”
“What?” Matt’s smile evolves into confused laughter. “What do you mean you paid for everything? You were five.”
“Yes. And then six, seven, eight. You know, all the way up until you were picked up by Primero.”
Matt scoffs. “So you just happened to have tens of millions of dollars to spare in your childhood?”
“I told you.” Robert closes his eyes and exhales. “It wasn’t that much.”
“It was still more than a child’s allowance. Even for you.”
“Jesus, it wasn’t an allowance, it was an inheritance. My grandpa’s, remember? He died right around the time we met.”
“Wait.” Matt remembers that, but just barely. The grandfather who used to race—Bobby’s dad’s dad. “You’re serious?”
“Of course I’m serious! Why would I lie about something like this?”
“You paid for me?!” Matt’s face falls as he tries to remember if he ever saw Bobby with a credit card. “How could you possibly pay for me?”
“Remember that stupid brochure? For the weekend camp? Mom thought it was too dangerous and expensive for a kid, but Dad said I could do it if I paid with the money Grandpa left me. I didn’t give a shit about money yet, ‘cause I was literally five.
I just wanted to play with you ‘cause you were older and cooler and you seemed super into racing.”
“You didn’t even—?”
“Oh and—by the way—they didn’t pick me to be in the advanced group. We found out when we went to pay. So thanks for that embarrassment.”
The blood drains from Matt’s face as he tries to keep up. “I thought it was just a paid thing.”
“It ended up that way, at least.” Robert shrugs. “I asked them if you were in my group, and they said you hadn’t paid yet, so I made Dad put you on my tab. The rest was history.”
“But—but that was your money!”
“Yeah. It was supposed to be for college or whatever, but I wanted to spend it on you. Us.” Robert motions between the two of them. “Our friendship, y’know? You were my best friend.”
No. Matt didn’t know.
He only ever wanted to race. As a child, he never thought of Bobby as anything other than a stepping stone to get there. He didn’t even like talking to the younger boy until they started traveling together. Until they were teenagers.
Matt had just been focused on racing.
“I need to sit down,” he says, wobbling in place.
Robert steps back as Matt stumbles forward and collapses on the bed. “I understand that it’s probably a lot to take in.”
Matt makes a wholly undignified “Ha!” noise into the mattress.
“But that’s why I didn’t want to tell you.” The bed shifts when Robert sits on the edge of it. “Ever. Never. Even when we weren’t good. I thought I’d take it to my grave.”
“Uhhn,” Matt groans. It’s muffled since he’s face down, but Robert probably gets the gist.
It’s good that Matt knows who to thank for his entire life. But, still, he can’t fathom someone liking him enough to sacrifice anything for him, much less however many millions of dollars Robert must have spent over the years.
Bobby hadn’t even wanted to race. He wanted to play football.
“Hey.”
A hand softly cards through Matt’s hair, fingertips just grazing his scalp. It’s comforting in a way he doesn’t deserve.
He forgot what it’s like to be vulnerable around Robert—about physical touch and letting himself let go. Matt has relied on Laurent and his penchant for avoidance for so long that it feels wrong to let someone in.
Feels like he’s setting himself up to be hurt. Again.
“Hey,” Robert says again. “You okay?”
“I owe you so much.” Not just money—everything.
“That wasn’t the point of me telling you.” Robert presses against the side of Matt’s skull until his face turns towards him on the mattress. “The point is that you don’t owe my father anything. He had no business giving you that advice. It was shitty advice.”
Robert’s eyes are so light. In the warmth of the hotel lamp light, they almost look yellow.
Matt nods, but he’s not exactly sure what he’s agreeing to.
“Listen to me—you don’t have to be ashamed to be gay. Private? Sure. God knows how much press we all deal with—it’s nice to have privacy. But the shame? That fear you had when you thought someone might hear us? That’s not good for you. It’s not a healthy way to live.”
Matt exhales, melting deeper into the mattress. “It’s not that simple.”
“Sometimes it really is.” Robert’s fingers stiffen as he musses Matt’s hair up, ruining any of the nice ringlet curls he might’ve still had.
“Hey!” Matt kicks his legs out as he smacks at the offending digits like he’s swatting a fly.
Robert ignores him, standing and stretching his neck. “All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be happy. You don’t look happy.”
“Yeah, ‘cause you fucked up my hair.” Matt hauls himself upright and fingers at his curls for an excuse to turn away.
Robert huffs and says, “Alright, I’m gonna head on out.”
“Okay.” Matt’s fine, he just needs a little time to process his entire life.
“Anyways.” There’s a pause long enough for Matt to turn back around, to see if Robert is still there. He catches his eye and gives him a small smile. “See ya, Teo.”
Despite everything he knew crashing down around him, Matt can’t help but smile back. “See ya, Bobby.”
Robert’s toothy grin is all Matt can see, even after the door closes behind him.
Matt spins out, stranding his car in a gravel trap during Free Practice 3.
“I’m okay,” he says on the radio, though he feels anything but.