Chapter 22
DAILY MAIL: DOUBLE WORLD CHAMPION CAMERON RICHTER IN SECRET ROMANCE SCANDAL WITH BILLIONAIRE HEIR?
Formula One may have its biggest off-track scandal in years brewing behind the scenes—because the Daily Mail has learned reigning World Champion Cameron Richter was allegedly caught in a compromising situation with American billionaire heir Scott Palmer.
Sources with direct knowledge tell the Daily Mail that explicit paparazzi photos of the two men were quietly circulated among high-level Formula One insiders after a photographer allegedly captured Richter and Palmer during what was believed to be a completely private moment inside Palmer’s luxury Geneva home.
According to insiders, the photos allegedly show the two men shirtless and kissing in Palmer’s living room.
The existence of the photos reportedly triggered an immediate crisis meeting involving Richter’s Formula One team principal and senior PR staff.
One insider described the atmosphere as “absolute nuclear panic.”
Why the meltdown? Because Formula One has never had an openly gay world champion, and several races take place in countries with strict anti-LGBT laws. Sources say team executives fear the scandal could create “serious commercial and political complications” for both Richter and the sport itself.
We are told Richter’s camp moved quickly to contain the situation before the images leaked. Last month, Richter publicly voiced support for LGBT rights in an interview while subtly pushing the narrative that Palmer’s rumored boyfriend merely “looks similar” to the racing superstar.
Insiders claim the plan was to create enough plausible deniability for fans and sponsors to dismiss the photos as a case of mistaken identity if they ever surfaced online.
As for Richter and Palmer personally, we’re told the fallout has been rough.
Sources close to the situation say Richter has been instructed to avoid Palmer entirely.
The pair used to be frequently spotted together in the paddock and at high-profile Palmer Corp events, but that abruptly stopped over the past month.
Neither Richter, Palmer, Palmer Corp, nor McLaren responded to the Daily Mail’s requests for comment.
One thing is clear: if those photos ever hit the internet, Formula One could be facing one of the biggest scandals in modern motorsport history.
@cameronrichternews: Please don’t believe everything tabloids write. Don’t give them clicks!
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@f1paddockindie if this is true the “boyfriend who looks like Cam” excuse is INSANE
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@camgirl94 Not Daily Fail acting like Cam Richter dating a man would collapse western civilization
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@teamrichter You people care more about who Cam kisses than the fact he’s leading the championship by 15 points with three races to go. Who the fuck cares. He’s my champion.
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@f1wagsandfamilywatch Scott hasn’t been seen in the paddock for a while and now THIS article drops? I’m not saying I necessarily believe Daily Mail, but the timing…
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@sennafan63 Disgusting. Drivers back in my day were real, normal men. Now it’s full of faggots. Wouldn’t be surprised if Bastien is one too. He looks like it.
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@cam3wdc If F1 can survive the crashgate, the spygate, and countless controversial championship deciders, it can survive one gay (bi?) driver.
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@richter43ever I’m so angry. I’m sure this bullshit article is a plant by Ferrari to destabilize Cam and help Hunter win the championship!
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@gay4richter Not to be parasocial but the part about them being forced to stop seeing each other made me sad…
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@rainmastercam the way they used to look at each other in the paddock and y’all thought they were just bros
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@mclarenfan13 Can’t wait for Cam to win Las Vegas GP while the entire internet debates whether he’s shagging his buddy.
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@motorsportgermany Sources close to Richter deny all rumors and insist the driver remains focused on the championship fight.
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@Palmercorppr The allegations published by the Daily Mail are entirely speculative. Mr. Palmer will not comment on them.
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***
“We knew it could happen,” Daniel said grimly.
Alice, the team’s PR officer, frowned at her laptop, fingers flying over the keyboard as she scrolled through pages of reactions and analytics.
“Yes, but it could have been worse,” she said.
“The Daily Mail didn’t get the pictures themselves, and according to our data, most people don’t believe the story without evidence.
The comments are split between people mocking the article and people treating it as gossip.
” She glanced up. “If this had been published by a more reputable outlet, or if the photographs had leaked alongside it, we’d be dealing with a full-scale crisis. ”
Cam said nothing. Frankly, he felt no panic at all. Or maybe he was too angry to feel it properly.
The article itself hadn’t shocked him. He’d known this could happen the second Daniel had thrown those photographs across the desk a month ago. None of this was surprising.
What he felt instead was a constant, simmering irritation under his skin, hot and relentless and impossible to get rid of.
It had been there for weeks now, an itch with no outlet.
He was tired of being managed. Tired of carefully rehearsed statements and strategic distancing and pretending every interaction in his life needed to be filtered through sponsors and PR teams and championship implications.
Mostly, though, he was tired because every single thought in his head somehow circled back to Scotty.
His gaze drifted to his phone where it sat face-down on the conference table.
Scott hadn’t answered his calls or texts for weeks now.
Not properly, anyway. There had been a few dry replies to Cam’s messages in the beginning, polite and detached and painfully unlike Scott, but eventually even those had stopped.
Now their chat sat silent except for the occasional message from Cam that went unanswered for hours before receiving a bland reaction emoji or a one-word response.
It drove him fucking insane.
Scott hadn’t even texted him on his birthday. Instead of celebrating it in a medieval castle, Cam had gotten drunk alone in his apartment. Then he’d found a shirt Scott had left in his bedroom and jerked off with his face buried in it. In his defense, he’d been very drunk.
Daniel was still talking, oblivious to the fact that Cam had mentally checked out a few minutes ago. “The important thing now is consistency. We stay on message. No emotional reactions, no denials that sound too defensive, no sudden changes in behavior.”
Alice nodded. “I agree. The biggest risk now is overcorrecting. If you get a girlfriend now, the timing would make it more suspicious. It’s better to act like the article is nonsense and doesn’t deserve attention.”
“Yes, he can’t behave like he has something to hide,” Daniel said.
His jaw clenched, Cam wondered why he was even there. It wasn’t like they needed his input for this shit.
“We should also discuss the Las Vegas Grand Prix,” Alice said.
“There’s already speculation online about whether Palmer will attend the race.
Considering that he’s actually in the U.S.
now and the fact that the final two races take place in the Middle East, it would logically make sense that Palmer would attend the race in his country if you have nothing to hide. ”
“He’s not coming,” Cam said tersely.
The words came out sharper than he intended. Scott wasn’t coming. Cam knew that with the same certainty he knew the feel of a car losing grip beneath him. Scott had been giving him the cold shoulder for over a month now. At least, Cam hoped it was the cold shoulder rather than true indifference.
He didn’t want to believe it was indifference. Scott hadn’t sounded indifferent the last time they’d talked on the phone. Cam remembered that awful phone call with painful clarity: Scott’s flat voice, the forced cheerfulness, the grating dude at the end.
The memory made something twist unpleasantly in his chest every single time, but he’d also selfishly kept fixating on it.
It was proof that he’d hurt Scotty. He hated that he had, but he hated the thought of Scott not giving a shit even more.
Every time he thought about Scott moving on with his life, Cam got the irrational urge to text him immediately just to make sure he was still thinking about him—to make sure he hadn’t simply moved on.
Did that make him a dickhead? Most certainly.
He’d thought he was a better man.
Well, he’d clearly thought wrong. In his defense, he didn’t have many friends. Scott had been—was—his closest mate. It was only natural that he didn’t want to lose him.
Right, said a dark little voice at the back of his head. It’s not very normal to jerk off to the thought of sucking your mate’s tits or fucking his asshole.
Cam shoved the thought to the back of his mind and focused on what Alice was saying.
“…the online cycle will die down if there’s nothing new to feed it. Most likely this becomes another bullshit rumor within two weeks.”
“Maybe we should manufacture some conflict?” Daniel suggested.
They treated his life like one big marketing campaign.
Then again, it was.
For one brief, reckless moment, Cam wanted to tell them both to go fuck themselves. Wanted to walk out of the room, call Scott immediately, and say, Enough. I’m coming over.
The urge was so strong he had to clench his jaw to stop himself from saying it aloud.
Instead, he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “What about Scott?” he said flatly.
Daniel frowned. “What about him?”
Cam stared him down. “You realize this affects him too, right? Journalists are going to hound him.”
A brief silence fell over the room.
Alice’s expression softened slightly. “I’m sure Palmer Corp has their own PR people handling it.”
Right. Of course. That was all they cared about, after all.
“He’s hardly unprotected, Cam,” Daniel said, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“If anything, with his resources, he has far more protection than you do. You’re a public figure and can’t simply refuse interviews.
He can. He has lawyers, security, enough money to bury stories if necessary. He’ll be fine.”
Daniel wasn’t wrong.
But—
Cam rubbed at his jaw, restless. He needed to make sure Scott was okay. Not wanted—needed. Like it was something physical lodged beneath his ribs.
You don’t want to make sure he’s okay, the same nasty voice said at the back of his mind. It’s just an excuse to see him so you can stick your dick in him again.
Heat crawled up Cam’s neck, equal parts embarrassment and irritation. No, of course it wasn’t the reason. It wasn’t, damn it.
“I agree with Daniel,” Alice said. “Keep away from Scott Palmer.”
“What I do is none of your business,” he said coldly, his irritation flaring. “Either of you.”
Daniel sighed heavily. “Jesus Christ, Cam. We’re not your enemies. We’re trying to help here.”
“I don’t need your fucking help,” he snapped—and immediately felt guilty when they flinched.
Fuck.
He knew they meant well. He shouldn’t bite their heads off for doing their jobs—for trying to save his career. He knew he should be more appreciative of it.
But fuck, he was exhausted. Exhausted from constantly fighting himself, from trying to convince himself he’d done the right thing.
A month ago, keeping his distance from Scott had seemed logical.
Necessary. But all it had done was make him feel vaguely furious all the time.
Furious and restless and stressed and distracted as hell.
Like something important had been ripped out of his life without warning.
Something he couldn’t actually live without.
***
Cam knew what he was doing could technically qualify as stalking.
The rational side of his brain kept insisting it was creepy, but after more than a month without seeing Scott, that rational voice was getting quieter and quieter.
Which was how he found himself sprawled across his hotel bed two hours later, deep in the rabbit hole of stalking Scott’s friends’ Instagram accounts in hopes of catching a glimpse of him.
In his defense, Scott’s own Instagram page had become oddly inactive lately.
Cam was used to waking up to a new post every morning.
Scott had posted constantly—ridiculous selfies, pretentious black-and-white photography, blurry photos of expensive cocktails with captions that made no sense.
Sometimes entire dramatic quotes about things Cam had no clue about.
Cam had spent months pretending those posts annoyed him.
Apparently they’d become part of his routine without him noticing.
Now their absence felt wrong. Then again, everything felt fucking wrong these days.
It felt beyond wrong that he didn’t know what was happening in Scott’s life.
He didn’t like it. Didn’t like not knowing where he was or who he was with or—
Christ, he sounded like a psycho even in his own head.
He had never considered himself controlling. He’d never cared what his girlfriends did when they weren’t with him. Half the time he forgot to reply to their texts for days because racing consumed most of his life.
But with Scott it was different. With Scott it was like an itch beneath his skin, persistent and impossible to ignore no matter how hard he tried.
He kept trying to rationalize it. Scotty was loud and lively and impossible to miss.
Of course his absence felt noticeable. Except that explanation fell apart under scrutiny.
Cam knew plenty of loud people. Plenty of charismatic people.
He had never once felt compelled to know every tiny detail of their daily lives.
Cam stared at a picture one of Scott’s friends had posted from some premiere a few hours ago.
His thumb hovered over the screen as his gaze traced Scott’s face obsessively.
He didn’t even know what he was searching for. Signs that Scott was unhappy? Signs that he missed him? Signs that he hadn’t already moved on?
Scott looked… beautiful. His dark hair was artfully tousled and swept back, an expensive gray suit draping perfectly over his frame. A champagne glass rested loosely in his long fingers as he smiled at someone just outside the frame.
Who was he smiling at? Another man?
His jaw tightening, Cam zoomed in. He stared at the curve of Scott’s full, pink lips and felt his own fucking ache with the urge to kiss them, suck on them, bite them.
For fuck’s sake.
What was wrong with him?