Chapter Text
The low thrum of the Mercedes-AMG team radio in Kimi’s earpiece was almost meditative, a stark counterpoint to the controlled chaos of the Monte Carlo paddock. He was standing, shoulder-to-shoulder with Toto Wolff, fielding questions about the aerodynamic package for Barcelona, but his mind was twenty feet away, where Oliver Bearman was leaning against the Haas motorhome, laughing—a loud, unashamed sound—with his race engineer. Kimi had to look away, irrational jealousy pooling in the pit of this stomach, when he heard the yell of the media; 'ANDREA!'.
Andrea. The name settled like a heavy stone in Kimi’s stomach. It was his real name, his royal name, and the one he hadn’t answered to in three years. Here, under the brutalist glamour of Monaco, he was Kimi: the prodigy, the future of Mercedes, the intensely focused, almost perpetually silent rookie who had already exceeded every expectation placed upon him.
He was also, secretly, Crown Prince Andrea Kimi Antonelli of Italy, and the two lives were currently tearing him in half.“Kimi?” Toto’s voice snapped, sharp and paternal. “Your thoughts on the medium-to-hard compound degradation in the heat, please.”Kimi’s mind, which had been calculating the time difference between Monaco and the Italian capital, Rome, shifted gears instantly. “The degradation is manageable, but the out-lap is critical. We can push the hard for a longer second stint if we manage tyre surface temps through Rascasse.”
The technical jargon was a shield, thick and comforting.The journalist nodded, satisfied. Kimi offered a practiced, small smile that didn't reach his eyes—the Kimi Antonelli brand smile.The press scrum finally dispersed, and Kimi walked straight into his secure motorhome.
He barely waited for the door to seal before tearing off his headphones and snatching the secondary, heavily encrypted satellite phone from its charging dock. He had fifteen minutes before he was due in the simulator.The caller ID was simply "Regent’s Office." He hit connect, his voice dropping an octave into a formal, almost theatrical tone.“Good evening, Your Grace.”The screen flashed to life, revealing his grandmother, Queen Lucia, sitting at the mahogany desk in Valencia Palace. She looked tired, her famous silver hair pulled back tightly, but her eyes held the piercing severity that had ruled the small, oil-rich kingdom for fifty years.
“Andrea,” she said, dispensing with pleasantries. “You are late. I watched the press conference. Well done. But you looked distracted. Is everything ok, Andrea?”Kimi ran a hand through his damp, dark hair, feeling the familiar, suffocating pressure.
“With respect, Mama, I am driving a Formula One car at 200 miles per hour, whilst balancing a royal life. I think it's ok to be tired”.
“Your focus needs to be on your future, not this motorsport sideshow. The Council is pressing. Felipe VI and Queen Letizia of Austria will be arriving for a diplomatic dinner. Your presence would be lovely, my child".
Kimi smiles at the names, then sighs.“I understand, and it will be lovely to see them again, but I have to honor my commitments here with Mercedes before any political agreements there, as much as I would love to come home for a bit.”
A flicker of sadness and understanding crosses the Queen’s face. " I, of course, understand you committment to your team. I will tell Felipe and Letizia that you cannot come.”
"Thank you, mama." The beat that followed was broken by a sudden, loud rap on the motorhome door, followed by a familiar, boisterous voice.
“Oi, Kimi! You alive in there? Need to steal your spare clothes, mine smell like burnt clutch and regret!”Kimi’s cheeks went warm immediately. It was Oliver.“I must go, Mama. Team duty calls,” Kimi whispered into the microphone, his eyes glued to the door handle.“Of course, Andrea. It was lovely to hear your voice, even for a short while.” The Queen’s smiling face vanished as Kimi ended the call, before quickly shoving the secure phone under a pile of strategy documents.
Kimi quickly unlocked the door. Ollie stood there, grinning, sweat plastered to his dark curls after his own session. He was wearing his bright red Haas polo and the kind of easy confidence Kimi had always envied.“Seriously, man, I think a pigeon died in my bag,” Oliver chuckled, stepping inside. He paused, looking Kimi over. “Whoa. You look like you just argued with a tax collector. Everything okay?”
“Fine. Just... wondering how on earth you always go this long without washing your clothes.” Kimi lied smoothly, retrieving his innocuous black gym bag—the same one that contained a small, heavily engraved platinum lapel pin: the Italian Royal Seal. He wore it on the inside pocket as a bizarre, private tether to his real life.
He quickly pulled out the spare set of clothes - extra large of course, Ollie was practically a giant - and handed them to him.Ollie flashed him a grateful smile then leaned forward to grab the clothes.
As he leaned closer, his blue eyes met Kimi’s. It was always startling to look into Ollie's eyes. It was like they could see through him, had always been. They had been best friends since their karting days, sharing countless hotel rooms, broken bones, and scraped knees. Oliver knew Kimi's tells, and vice versa. "Kimi mate, you look exhausted. When was the last time you slept a full 9 hours?”
The sincerity in Oliver’s voice was a physical ache. Kimi wanted, more than anything, to pull Oliver close, sink into his genuine care, and tell him everything: I’m not who you think I am. My life isn't my own. And I am utterly, irrevocably in love with you. The reason I'm exhausted is because I'm literally juggling two lives. But the words stuck in his throat, choked by protocol and duty.He settled for the second-best thing: distance.
“I think I just spent a bit to long analysing data” Kimi laughed, praying that Ollie couldn't hear the lie in his voice. He stepped past him, before turning back towards Ollie. “Cmon, Toto will have my head if I'm not at debrief in 5.” Ollie chuckled before following Kimi out his driver's room, waving a goodbye as they went their separate ways.
If only he could tell Ollie about his secret identity. Not yet, but soon, he was sure of it. He just had to keep the two worlds separated until then.He had to keep Andrea hidden, until he had a chance to reveal all, until he was sure he would loose Ollie.
Because if the man who had known him his entire life discovered that he had been lied to before Kimi was ready to tell him, Kimi knew he would most likely lose him forever.