Page 13 of Retrograde

‘There she is, my sunshine girl.’ Brett sat propped up in bed four hours later, surrounded by room-service food with a superhero film playing on the flat-screen TV at the foot of the bed.

He looked like he hadn’t slept for days, his hair sticking out at odd angles.

In all honesty, he looked adorable. She had always loved how he looked in the mornings: innocent, na?ve.

He didn’t look like he was recovering from a wild drinking binge, he just looked like Brett.

Lucie’s facade almost crumbled, but she couldn’t let his treatment of her this morning slide.

She wanted to come in here with a tough-love approach, because it was exactly what she would want Brett to do if she was in his position.

It was also the nature of the sport Brett loved.

Jasper and the team at Revolution Racing approached things the same way.

They yelled at each other over the radio, they had blazing rows in conference rooms, but it was because they cared.

They had passion. They were a team. Just like she and Brett were and had been for a decade. This was a blip.

‘Uh huh. Good to see you’re feeling chipper.’ Lucie raised an eyebrow as mayonnaise fell out of his chicken burger and landed on his bare chest. ‘You need a bib. You’re like a big baby.’ She willed herself not to laugh as he wiped it off.

‘Do you hate me?’ He looked up at her with big, round eyes. He looked just like that GIF of the cat from Shrek and it almost succeeded in making Lucie melt.

‘I’m certainly not impressed.’ She crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe.

‘I woke up on the wrong side of the bed and my head was pounding.’

‘That’s no excuse for that kind of behaviour, Brett.’

‘I know.’ He looked nauseous, and she didn’t think it was just the result of alcohol.

‘You scared me. I’ve never seen you in that state before. And for you to speak to me the way you did?’

‘I’m so sorry, Luce. Seriously. I shouldn’t have let myself get that drunk.’

‘You hurt me.’ She felt her eyes sting again.

‘Oh, Sunny. Come here.’ Brett put his food aside and held his arms out.

When she settled into him, like he was made for her, and laid her head on his mayo-free chest, she felt him breathe a sigh of relief.

It was the same relief she felt the second he embraced her, and it was then that she knew if she had to lie here for the next twenty-four hours, flight to London be damned, watching crappy action movies and gorging out on greasy food until he felt human again, she would.

‘You deserve better, Sunny,’ he muttered into her hair, running his fingers through it in an effort to soothe her.

‘You owe me big time, Anderson. I want a lifetime of unlimited blueberry pancakes. Might as well just hand your credit card over now.’

‘How about we go out tonight? There’s a really cool bar on the Strip that we didn’t get to last night.

I know the owner; I can get us a booth. Just me and you, fuck everyone else.

I’ve got the room until tomorrow anyway.

’ She felt the low rumble of his voice as he spoke, felt his chest rise and fall.

But surely she had heard wrong? Surely those words had not just come out of his mouth.

‘Brett, are you serious?’ She sat up and stared at him in bewilderment.

‘What?’ He looked at her blankly.

‘What do you mean, what ?’

He shrugged nonchalantly. ‘It’s just a hangover, Luce. I’m fine.’

‘You’re not fine, Brett. You are so far from fine. Do you not see it?’

‘Lucie.’ He attempted to silence her.

‘Brett.’ She was firm, staring him down and ensuring he knew just how serious her tone was.

‘Lucie…’ Brett trailed off upon realising this had the potential to be a huge blowout.

‘This is not just a hangover. You know that. You know deep down that this is so much more than just a hangover, Brett. Please. You drank two bottles of JD on your own!’ She got up from the bed and stood with her arms crossed.

Brett never took her seriously when she was mad, but this time was an exception.

He looked guiltier than she’d ever seen him.

But the guilt didn’t mean he was going to admit to having a problem.

‘It’s not a big deal, Lucie,’ he shrugged.

‘We’re in Las Vegas. Loosen up a bit, you’re supposed to take it too far in a place like this.

I mean, look out the window. What do you see?

Bars, casinos and nightclubs everywhere.

Was I meant to be on my best behaviour and go to bed after two beers?

Set my alarm for six a.m. and go for a run?

We’re on holiday, we’re away from a race weekend and we’re allowed to let our hair down and have some fun. ’

‘Have you lost all sense of control? It’s not just a weekend here and there any more, it’s all the time .

You just seem to no longer give a fuck about your health.

Mental or physical. We make these kind of mistakes at college, when we’re younger, we don’t do this now.

You’re damn lucky you have people who care about you, Anderson.

If you value your career and if you value us, if you value me , you’ll stop drinking so heavily.

Get some help for whatever it is that makes you need the alcohol. ’

‘Sunny. We’ve all done things we regret; we’ve all drunk too much before. It was my fault for not realising my limits last night.’ He looked at her with pleading eyes.

‘No. Don’t Sunny me. Don’t try to manipulate me into letting this go. What if you embarrass yourself publicly? Do something while intoxicated that paints you in a bad light? Hell, what if one day you drink so much that you don’t wake up?’

‘I drive fast cars for a living, Luce. My fans worship the ground I walk on. They’re not gonna go anywhere.’

‘Your fans might not, but the sponsors will. You lose them, and you lose your seat. Revolution will take a massive hit, and then Jules and Marco might lose their jobs, too. Are you really willing to risk it? You used to avoid excessive amounts of alcohol because you don’t like not being in control, you said it made your brain fuzzy and you needed to stay sharp to be the best driver the IEC has ever seen.

This is so unlike you. What changed? Am I that terrible of a friend that I didn’t notice something? ’

‘You’re not a bad friend, Luce, but damn I wish you’d stop making such a fucking fuss.

’ He gritted his teeth, his eyes burning with anger.

‘I liked you better when you just shut up and let me get on with my own life and you got on with yours. Except that has never been the case, really, has it? Because you just can’t leave me alone. ’

If his voice hadn’t cracked as he said it, she might have thought he meant it.

If she hadn’t witnessed the anger dissipate from his expression and morph into regret the second a tear rolled down her cheek, she might’ve believed every word.

Lucie had never been one for heartbreak; never let anyone get that close.

Her walls were always up. But Brett might just end up being the person to shatter her into a million pieces.

‘Screw you, Anderson.’

Lucie wasn’t even halfway down the corridor before Brett was chasing after her, but as tears blurred her vision and she slammed her fist against the call button for the lift, she ignored him calling out to her. If she looked back at him, she knew she would cave.

‘Sunny, wait,’ he pleaded. ‘I didn’t mean it.’

She let the door close on his guilt-ridden face and took a deep breath, half-wishing she’d heard him out and half-grateful to have a moment to gather her thoughts.

She walked through the hotel lobby in her oversized sweatpants and slippers, bypassing the Bellagio’s upper-class clientele and for once paying zero attention to whether or not she was out of place.

The Nevada sun had disappeared behind the clouds and as she headed to the nearest coffee shop round the corner, she thought about how they never should have come on this trip. But then, if they hadn’t, Brett’s declining mental health might have gone on unnoticed.

Maybe she and Julien were being dramatic.

Maybe Brett was right, it was Vegas, this was classic Las Vegas behaviour.

It wasn’t like he was recreating The Hangover , but the change in his behaviour was scary.

It was the anger towards her that had been the giveaway.

Perhaps if he had been his usual cheery self, she could have overlooked it.

Lucie hadn’t even taken a sip of her iced latte before Brett was walking through the door, pulling out a chair and making himself comfortable at her table in the back corner. There was no point in stopping him and causing a scene.

‘Knew I’d find you in here.’

‘I don’t want to talk, Brett.’ Lucie sniffled then sighed.

‘Well, tough shit. You made me listen to you, now you’re going to listen to me.’

‘I don’t owe you anything. I don’t have to have this conversation if I don’t want to, regardless of your needs.’

‘Come on, Sunny. We’re a team, remember? I can’t do this without you,’ he pleaded.

‘Brett–’ She clenched her jaw, torn between letting rip again, storming out or giving in.

‘Luce, put the coffee down. Look at me.’ He gestured at her cup, which she was clutching tightly with both hands. She didn’t want to look at him, not while they were both hurting.

‘For Christ’s sake.’ She heaved an almighty sigh, rolling her eyes at herself as she let him win the battle. She should’ve walked out of the café.

‘I’m sorry.’ Brett almost whispered it to her.

‘I know.’

‘No, you don’t know. You’ll never understand how awful I feel about what I said. For drinking too much and scaring you. You’re my best friend, Sunny. My right-hand woman. There is nothing on this earth I wouldn’t do for you. You know that, right? You’re my number one, always.’

‘I shouldn’t be your number one, Brett. You should be. You have to deal with whatever this is for yourself, not just for me.’ She shook her cup, the ice cubes rattling. Anything to distract from just how serious this conversation was getting.

‘I think you might be right, there’s more to it.’

‘Really?’

‘Yeah.’ He looked out of the window. ‘I’ll reel it in.’

‘I love you to pieces, Brett. Please, don’t let this get any worse. And never speak to me that way again, or trust me, Brett, I will consider walking out of your life.’

‘I’m scared,’ he admitted. ‘I don’t feel like myself any more.’

‘The Brett I know doesn’t let fear win.’

‘The Brett you know has been slowly disappearing for a while.’ He couldn’t even hide the sadness in his voice, and it broke her heart.

‘Hey.’ She reached for his hand. ‘He’s still in there.’

‘I want to go home, Sunny. I need to go back to Sydney. I think it’s about time I started facing my demons.’

‘I wish you’d told me you had demons in the first place.’

‘Yeah, well. I’m Brett Anderson, world-class racing driver. I can’t show weakness.’ He gave her a shaky smile, and the look of pain on his face made her want to wrap him up in her arms and never let go.

‘You can show weakness with me, Brett. You know you can. Nothing has changed from the beginning of our friendship.’

Lucie remembered the first time they met at Monza.

It was her first week on the job, and she’d been so nervous to meet him.

She could still recall the tremble of her voice.

Brett had been a pretty big name in motorsport for two years, ever since he was sixteen and racing in a junior championship, and Lucie had celebrated her eighteenth birthday a mere two weeks before she started on the catering team.

She had a baby face, and she was dinky to match.

She’d bumped into him outside his trailer before a race and he’d been flustered, and blurted out to her, a complete stranger, that he was nervous about the race, verging on a panic attack.

His usual pre-race ritual wasn’t working for him.

She’d offered him her headphones and played her favourite song and they had sat on the step of his trailer listening to it for three minutes and twenty-nine seconds.

It was in those three minutes and twenty-nine seconds that they had formed an unbreakable bond.

Brett confessed to her a year later that he had never admitted to being nervous about a race before, ever, but there was something about Lucie that made him feel instantly at home.

He had been listening to that song before every race for the whole season, and now, ten years later, it was still part of his ritual. She just got him.

‘I think… and please don’t take this the wrong way, but I think I need to go back to Sydney alone. Take a few weeks to figure myself out and get my head back in the game.’

‘Are you sure, Brett? What about the next race of the season?’

‘I think part of my problem is that I’ve finally allowed myself to get caught up in the whirlwind lifestyle of the rich and famous.

You and Faith have done too good a job at making us so well-known and in demand, I’ve let myself get carried away with it.

If I said that sentence to anyone else, they’d laugh at me.

They’d tell me to stop being ridiculous, to enjoy the life I’ve got and stop worrying, that it’s just a phase.

And maybe it is, but what if it isn’t? I’m sure Jasper can find a replacement for me. Just for one race.’

‘Okay. I’ll help you pack, and I’ll be there when you call Jasper. If you want, that is.’

‘Lucie?’ He took her hand in his.

‘Yeah?’ She turned to look at him and for a split second, he felt like that same vulnerable, eighteen-year-old Brett she’d met outside the trailer.

‘Thank you.’

‘You can thank me by just being your old self again.’