Chapter Text
Charles had been having nightmares since he can remember.
He would wake up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat, screaming and thrashing. His maman or papa would rush to his side, trying to soothe him, but nothing worked. Charles was terrified of sleeping, and it was all Shadow’s fault.
He wasn’t even sure what his name was. In the dreams, he always heard someone calling him “papa”, but that made no sense. He had a papa, and he certainly wasn’t like that. So, Charles gave him another name, “Shadow”. A pretty good name, considering a seven-year-old was the one who came up with it.
Shadow was a terrifying man who did nothing but scream in a foreign language and beat up Charles, or rather, his soulmate. But in dreams, Charles felt everything as if it were happening to him. Because when you slept, you could see your soulmate’s memories.
Charles had no idea what he had done to deserve this.
All he dreamed about was Shadow and that damned kart he was forced to drive endlessly. Meanwhile, Lorenzo, his older brother, would talk about his dreams of baking cookies and going to the park. Boring, but at least peaceful. Arthur, his younger brother, was still too little to remember his dreams. If only Charles could be that lucky too.
The older Charles got, the worse it became.
The breaking point came when he was 17 and dreamed he was left in the middle of nowhere and put to walk alone to the hotel where he stayed with Shadow. And so he did. The sun was making him dizzy and he felt like he had sand in his mouth. When he reaches the hotel Shadow grabs him by his arm, drags him in their room and screams and beats him. That night, Charles decided he was done. He started setting alarms throughout the night so he wouldn't fall into deep sleep and dream. Sure, he was constantly exhausted and irritable, but it was a small price to pay for peace of mind.
One evening, he overheard his parents talking. He probably should have ignored them, but he was too annoyed to walk away.
His mother was saying they should find his soulmate as soon as possible. When soulmates finally met, their dream world merged. No longer would they be forced to experience one another’s separate pasts and they would share memories instead. His father agreed, even suggesting a ridiculous plan to track the person down.
Charles stormed into the room without bothering to knock and declared, “I don’t want to find my soulmate! Ever!”
Silence. His parents stared at him, wide-eyed. Nobody ever mentioned it again.
***
At 24 years old, Charles was still completely uninterested in meeting his soulmate.
In fact, he had no clue what they were up to.
After that last nightmare, he perfected his lifestyle of caffeine and pills for not dreaming he stole from his mom. He had no time to worry about whoever-the-hell his soulmate was, now he was too busy running the salon. Managing Le Quai 28 was no joke, and while he preferred handling the administrative work, busy periods meant he had to take clients himself.
And this week was chaotic because of the Monaco Grand Prix and everyone wanted to look their best. Charles barely had a moment to breathe between the sound of clippers and the latest gossip floating around.
Then his mother appeared, looking mildly exhausted.
“Would you mind taking my next client? I need a break,” she asked. “I suppose age is catching up to me,” she added with a sigh.
“Go rest, maman. I got it,” Charles replied, flipping open her appointment book.
His next client was Max Verstappen. His mother drew a flower next to his name so he was a good customer. Odd. He knew all the flower customers and he had never heard of that guy.
Before he could think much about it, the bell above the door chimed.
And then…
A chill ran down his spine. His heartbeat thundered in his chest.
A guy entered the salon. Outside, Charles saw Shadow. Older than Charles remembered, but unmistakable. Every single cell in Charles' body screamed to run, but his legs refused to cooperate.
His mind was trying to reassure him that there was still glass between them, that Shadow was outside and couldn't hurt him.
“Hey! You okay?” someone asked in English.
Charles tried to answer, but his throat had closed up. A hand landed on his shoulder.
Shadow left, but he kept watching Charles as he walked away. Relief flooded his body, but his heart was still hammering painfully.
“Here, take this,” the same voice said.
Charles blinked, grounding himself. Someone was standing in front of him, holding out a bottle of water. His fingers barely worked as he grabbed it, struggling to twist the cap open.
Charles gulped down a mouthful before muttering, “Merci.”
Finally, he forced himself to look at the person who had handed it to him.
Dark blond hair under a Red Bull cap. Also a Red Bull shirt. In fact, the guy was practically a walking billboard for the brand.
“You have a reservation?” Charles asked, trying to sound normal.
“Yeah. Max Verstappen.”
“I’ll be cutting your hair today,” Charles said quickly. “Pascale’s on break.”
“Oh, that’s fine.”
Max sat down, removing his cap as Charles draped a barber’s cape over him. He explained what he wanted and Charles got to work.
After a beat of silence, he tried making conversation.
“Are you in town for the race?”
Max made a weird face, but then smiled. “Yeah.”
“I take it you’re a huge Red Bull fan,” Charles teased, gesturing to the outfit.
Max laughed. “Kinda obvious, huh?”
“I don’t really like motorsport,” Charles smirked. “But let me tell you a secret, I drink so much Red Bull, I could be personally sponsoring this team.”
Max laughed so hard he nearly threw his head back. Thankfully, Charles had paused the clippers. Charles didn’t find himself that funny.
“Seriously?!”
“I drink two a day. More if it’s busy here.”
Given the minor heart attack he had earlier, he probably wouldn’t need caffeine for hours. What the hell was Thing doing here anyway? Maybe he is here for the race.
“Okay, but that’s not healthy,” Max said, shaking his head.
“Yeah, I know. Sometimes I switch to coffee, but then I worry sales might drop.”
“Well, I appreciate you supporting my team.” Max checked his reflection. “All done?”
“Yep. Just let me clean you up.”
Charles brushed off any stray hairs and removed the cape before Max headed to the register. But before leaving, he turned back.
“Do you take tips? Or should I just come back with a can of Red Bull?”
A flower customer… Maybe he is a good tipper or just a nice person, but also he is unconventionally handsome and Charles would like to see him again.
“I don’t take tips, so…” Charles left the rest unspoken.
Max took his cap and put it back, then nodded. And then he was gone.
Charles barely had time to process before his next client arrived. But later, during his lunch break, he found himself wondering if Max really would come back with a Red Bull.
He didn’t.
Still, Charles caught himself scanning the door every time the bell chimed, almost disappointed. Ridiculous. Clients weren’t supposed to get stuck in his head like this.
That night, after closing the salon and dropping his mother home, Charles returned to his apartment, got ready for bed, took his pills and double-checked that his alarms were set.
The next day, he woke up in the afternoon, still exhausted, but nothing a cup of coffee couldn’t fix. By the time he arrived at the salon, his mother was already waiting for him with another coffee.
“Did I ever tell you you’re my favorite mom?”
“I’d better be,” she replied. “I’m the only one you’ve got.”
They start to talk about the equipment and reservation for the day. Their conversation was interrupted by Jacques, the delivery guy.
“I didn’t order anything for this week,” Charles muttered, glancing at his mom.
She just shrugged.
Charles followed the delivery guy outside, only to find a two-meter-tall box.
“Help me to open this,” he said.
With great effort, they managed to pry it open.
Inside?
A fridge. Full of Red Bull. The glass door had a note taped to it: “For my best sponsor.”
Charles’ face went bright red. Impossible.
He yanked out his phone, quickly typing Max Verstappen into Google.
The first result?
A picture of the same guy from yesterday.
Above it?
Formula 1 Driver.