Rafael’s face falls, his expression intense when he asks, “Is someone threatening you?”
“No! No, I just—I know them. It’s people who I, uh, value the opinion of.” It doesn’t matter. Julien isn’t weak enough to let a few comments derail him. Besides, it’ll only get worse when he’s a full-time driver. “Forget it—it doesn’t matter. Forget I said anything.”
“Ça va?”Thomas sets his tray on the other side of Julien and makes a disapproving tut as he sits. “It’s bad luck to drink that on race day.”
Who cares as long as it keeps him awake? Julien pointedly upends the cup over his mouth, chugging the rest before his brother can snatch it from him.
Rafael leans around Julien and asks. “Did you know he has friends who talk shit about him?”
“Hey!” The whole point of Julien discussing it with Rafael was to keep the issueawayfrom his brother. “I told you to drop it. They didn’t know I was listening.”
“You did notstreamlast night?!” Great. Now Thomas is involved. “But you are racing today! You need to sleep, you cannot keep?—”
“I’mfine.” Julien lifts his cup, but it’s already empty. Damnit. “I can handle myself.”
“Streaming?” Rafael asks. “Streaming what?”
Thomas ignores him. “You are my responsibility. You cannot be up all night before a race. It is dangerous for you and for everyone else on the track.”
“Yourresponsibility?!” Oh yeah, because Julien belongs to his brother like a dog he has to remember to feed and walk. Like he isn’t an entire human man with his own autonomy.
“Keep your voice down.”
But Thomas has never understood that. He’s always tried to control Julien, tried to fit him into a neat little box. He’s neverseen him as an adult capable of making his own decisions, just a child that needs to be dealt with.
A child that needs to be sent away.
“I stopped beingyour responsibilitywhen you shipped me off to England!”
Thomas groans. “Not this again.”
“Yeah, this again.”This. As if it isn’t the most traumatic time of Julien’s life. “Youstilldon’t get it. I idolized you—I wanted to bejustlike you—but I was some annoying brat, huh? Something you didn’t want to deal with. Well, now you don’t have to deal with me! So leave me the fuck alone.”
“England was afavor.” Thomas doesn’t even look at him. He just spoons his granola-topped yogurt with an unbothered air. “You got to go karting more than I ever did,andyou learned English. I thought you would be grateful by now.”
“Grateful?!”
“Hey.” Rafael’s hand is a heavy weight when it rests on Julien’s thigh. It’s reassuring, grounding even. “I think you should leave. Cool off a bit.”
“Yeah. Leave us, Thomas.” Julien’s hand finds Rafael’s, but the older driver slides out from under his touch.
“I meant you, Julien. Take a moment for yourself before the meeting.”
“Me?”What part of that conversation made it sound like Julien was the problem?! “I—fine. Whatever.”
Julien only jerked Rafael off. What was he expecting? A knight in shining armor to rescue him?
Not when the dragon is the perfect Thomas Dubois. Golden child Thomas Dubois. Once-in-a-generation driver Thomas Dubois.
Fuck it. Fuck both of them.
Julien stands and storms out. He made it this far by himself. He won the Formation 2 Championship by himself. He doesn’t need Rafael and hedefinitelydoesn’t need Thomas.
He probably should’ve grabbed some of his food, though. Julien’s empty stomach gurgles as the red boar burns through the lining.
It’s too late now. He’s already stomping through the door and shuffling down the stairs of hospitality. Maybe someone in the garage has food. Unlikely, but not impossible.
With his eyes on the garage in the distance, Julien doesn’t notice the peach-clad driver until they collide.
