*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧—chapter four: happy birthday

March 21, 1994

THE NEWLY TURNED FOUR-YEAR OLD IS ALREADY AWAKE BY THE CRACK OF DAWN. A smile is plastered on his face as he gets out of bed and runs across the hall, knocking on the door to his father's bedroom. The door opens and Ayrton stands there, half-asleep. His hair is disheveled and there's a sleepy look on his face considering he literally just woke up. A tired smile forms on his face as he reached down and scoops the little boy up from the floor.

A giggle leaves Caio's lips as he looks up at his father. "Feliz aniversário, papai." he says.

"Feliz aniversário, filho." Ayrton says through a yawn. "Not tired?"

"No, I slept early last night!" Caio says proudly, smiling. "Podemos ir à cozinha, por favor, papai?"

Ayrton nods. He heads down the hall, going into the kitchen. Caio lets him set him down on the counter. The boy is already bored as he swings his legs back and forth, humming softly to himself as he watches Ayrton go to the refrigerator and take out a bottle of Heineken.

For the past two years, on their birthday, Ayrton would let Caio have just a taste of whatever alcoholic beverage the man felt like having a glass of that morning. Just a tiny sip. He wasn't trying to go overboard—come on, Caio's only four, why would a little kid have anything more than just a sip of a drink they're not even legally supposed to have? Maybe when he was older, he could have a little bit more than just a taste.

When Ayrton sets the green glass bottle on the counter, Caio stares at the label, trying to read it. He knew it said Heineken, but he didn't know how to pronounce it. He always struggled with it. "Hi... nuh... Hi-nuh... ken."

"Heineken," Ayrton corrects. "Tente novamente. Diga assim: hai-nuh-kn."

"Hai-nuh-kn," Caio pronounces slowly. Ayrton smiles at him and nods. "Heineken." He looks at his father for approval. The smile never leaves Ayrton's face.

"Bom trabalho, filho." He then screws the cap off and pours a tiny bit of the beer into it and offers it to Caio. "Here."

Caio takes it from him, but as soon as the drink touches his tongue, he sticks out his tongue in disgust as he hands the cap back to Ayrton.

"Eca. É nojento, papai." Caio complains. "How do people like beer? It tastes bad."

Ayrton shrugs, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. A beat of silence passes between the father and son before they both burst out into a fit of laughter. But it's short lived, as Ayrton didn't want their family to be woken up.

As their laughter dies down, Caio watches Ayrton grab a glass and pour some of the drink into it, before downing it.

He then heads over to the sink. He rises out the glass and sets it down before putting the bottle of beer back into the refrigerator and then heading over to the freezer. He takes out a tub of ice cream and sets it down on the counter, letting it sit out for a few minutes.

That was the next thing in the list of birthday activities: have ice cream before breakfast.

While the ice cream softens, Ayrton grabs two spoons from one of the drawers. When he walks back over to the counter, Caio's already taking the lid off of the tub of ice cream. Ayrton hands him the smaller spoon and lets him take a scoop of ice cream first.

Caio carefully holds the spoon, making sure the ice cream doesn't fall off, as he brings it to his mouth. Licking the spoon clean, he grins at Ayrton before tossing the spoon into the sink.

This would be the last of the happy birthdays.

In less than two months, Ayrton would be gone and it would just be Caio.

Caio would be celebrating any future birthdays alone.

Without his father.

Because Ayrton Senna da Silva would be dead.

✧ ✧ ✧

March 21, 1995

Caio is supposed to wake up happy today. It's his birthday and he was supposed to be excited, like all little kids should be on their birthday. He was supposed to spend it with family and friends, singing happy birthday, eating cake, and having the time of his life. But this day is different. So much different.

He was missing a part of himself.

His birthday twin.

His father.

Ayrton Senna da Silva.

They were supposed to celebrate together, like they did all those other times their birthday rolled around. The tradition from the fast three birthdays, from when he was two, three, and four years old, were supposed to happen this morning.

Ayrton was supposed to sneak him a taste of whatever alcoholic beverage was stored away in the cupboards. Caio was supposed to go on a rant about how gross it was and how he didn't understand how anyone drank that and enjoyed it. They were supposed to laugh about it afterward. They were supposed to have ice cream before eating breakfast. All of this being a tradition since Caio was two years old.

But that would never happen. Not anymore.

Because Ayrton Senna da Silva had lost his life ten months and twenty days ago. Caio was never going to see his father ever again. He was never going to see his father's contagious smile. He was never going to hear his laugh. He was never going to be able to laugh at him again for waking up tired with bed head. He was never going to hear him cheering him and Bruno on when they went karting. He was never going to attend the races his father joined and cheer him on.

None of that was going to happen anymore.

The five-year-old stares up at the bedroom ceiling, lost in thought. His nose is running. His cheeks are red and tear-stained. His head hurts from crying so hard that morning.

Gripped tightly in his hands is a flag. The Brazilian flag. A gift from his father for his third birthday. Ayrton had wanted it to be special, so he had signed it. Bottom right corner. Small, but noticeable. Ayrton's signature, right in that little spot. Caio's taken special care of it ever since. The flag does get cleaned regularly, but he makes sure the permanent marker's ink doesn't ever bleed and wash out from the fabric. Otherwise, the flag would just be a normal flag.

There's a knock on the bedroom door, but Caio doesn't answer it. It was nearly the afternoon and he hadn't been out of his room since waking up. He knows that Bruno is on the other side of the door, probably coming to get him because Viviane told him to.

"Go away, Bruno!" Caio yells, glancing toward the closed door.

"Caio, you can't be in there all day!" Bruno was worried. "Did you even eat breakfast yet?"

"No, I didn't. Now, go away!"

"Caio—"

"Vai te foder."

"Whoa... Caio, don't say that!"

"Then leave me alone!"

The door opens in that same moment and Caio groans when Bruno enters the room. He lets go of the flag and grabs a pillow, covering his face with it so that he could hide himself from his cousin.

"Get up. Mãe said—"

"I don't care what Tia said," Caio mumbles through the pillow.

"Caio—"

"I'll throw this pillow at you."

Bruno sighs and goes to sit at the edge of the bed. "What are you going to do?" the twelve-year-old asks him.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Caio says as Bruno snatches the pillow and puts it back in its original spot on the bed.

"Today, tomorrow, next week, a year from today. What are you gonna do? Because you can't keep doing whatever this is. It's not healthy," Bruno explains. He understands that it was harder for Caio to deal with Ayrton's death for the past year. While no one in their family is over it, Caio's the one who struggles the most with coping. "Mãe consulted with a therapist. You're starting tomorrow."

"Ela fatou com um terapeuta?" Caio questions, a frown forming on his face as he sits up and crosses his arms. "Do I have to go?"

Bruno sighs again. "Sim."

Caio groans again, tossing his head back in frustration. "Why?"

Instead of answering, Bruno sits closer to him. Silence fills the room then. The older boy doesn't look at his younger cousin as they both sit there, not talking.

It's only a moment later when Bruno speaks up again. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"There's nothing to talk about..." Caio has picked up the flag again as he speaks, staring at the signature on the fabric.

"It'll help. I promise." Bruno reassures him. "You're gonna be doing this at therapy, so why not start now?"

Caio nods in understanding, though he still isn't so sure he even wants to talk about Ayrton. Just thinking about what happened, and just thinking about him in general, makes the five-year-old want to break down. Every single time. He would never come back, and that was the part Caio hated. Because his father was taken from the world too soon. Taken from him too soon. A part of Caio's heart has been missing ever since. There's just a hole in the void, filling the space of what once was.

"What's your favorite memory of him?"

"When he gave me the flag for my third birthday... Or when he got me my kart..." Caio says quietly. He turns away from Bruno in that same moment, feeling his eyes well up with tears.

It was going to be a very, very difficult healing journey for Caio.

Bruno frowns at this, seeing his cousin in this state. He didn't want to see him have another break down. He didn't want to see him upset.

"It'll be okay, primo." He says, rubbing his back in comfort. "I got you. I'm here. We'll get through this together."

author's note
i'm crying again guys
this isn't fair ☹️☹️

06.05.24