#flash forward mv33

[vitalverstappen]

Quietly Yours // a Flash Forward blurb

summary: navigating the paddock with a secret romance isn't easy. unfortunately, Charles can't keep a secret to save his life.

pairing: Max Verstappen x fem!reader (Ferrari photographer, graffiti artist, childhood enemies), Charles Leclerc x platonic fem!reader

warnings: use of y/n, swearing

a/n: i told you i'd be bringing back flash forward at some point. i've had this blurb in my drafts for a while, and now it's yours :) takes place during the 2024 season

word count: 2.3k

flash forward masterlist // main masterlist

You were honestly impressed at how well you and Max were able to keep your relationship hidden from the media. After Isabella constantly posting about her adventures with the Verstappens, you knew the second that Max asked you to be his girlfriend it was going to be under wraps for a while. 

Working for different teams, it was easy to ignore each other. While you were busy following Charles around like a lost puppy capturing content, Max would be elsewhere in the paddock, hopping between meetings and media. The only time you would truly be near each other was if both teams landed on the podium, which somehow only happened once between making it official and making it public. 

And even then, in the blazing sun of Austin, you had to be careful. The brief moments you shared, exchanging smiles from the track, felt like a lifetime, yet they always had to be subtle. A quiet nod here, a fleeting glance there, nothing too obvious. You both knew the importance of keeping your relationship under wraps, especially with the ever-watchful eyes of the media and the fans. 

Working for other teams though, made it difficult when you wanted to see each other. The logistics were a nightmare at times. You’d sneak away from your media obligations, pretending to run errands or look for Annalese, just to steal a few minutes of his company. Max, in turn, would have to duck out of a few meetings or pretend to be buried in his phone when he really just wanted to text you. But you both had a quiet understanding: the secrecy was temporary, just a small sacrifice. 

Of course, those close to you were aware of the blossoming romance. You had told both of your families, Isabella, and Annalese. It was a relief to have the support system, even if it just meant sharing your secret with just a select few. But no matter how much you two tried to hide it, someone was always watching. 

It wasn’t long before the whispers started. At first, it was just the occasional comment from Checo noticing your presence near Red Bull again. You knew he’d keep a secret, most of the drivers would. But there was one in particular that you were worried about finding out. 

Charles. 

You loved working with Charles, you really did. He kept the content interesting and the atmosphere light. Over the years, he had quickly become one of your close friends in the paddock, but you knew you could never share a secret with him. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust him. It was just that he was a blabber mouth.

Charles was one of those people who couldn’t hold onto a secret, even if his life depended on it. He was the first to share a funny story or revealing bit of gossip, and though you loved him for it, you knew this trait would be your undoing. The thought of him casually mentioning something about you and Max in front of the wrong person made your stomach churn. 

So, you and Max kept sneaking around. 

Nights spent tucked away in Max’s hotel room became a small escape from the pressure of the paddock. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was perfect. Takeout containers scattered across the coffee table, empty water bottles, and the soft glow of the TV screen provided the perfect backdrop to those fleeting moments of normalcy. There was no need to sneak glances or worry about being caught in public. 

Max had quickly become a pro at finding ways to keep the relationship low-key. He’d even gotten good at suggesting quiet activities that wouldn’t raise suspicion. Video games were an easy distraction, and it became a running joke between you both - Max laughing at your less-than-ideal skills behind the wheel of his sim. But you didn’t mind; it was a perfect enough excuse to be close to him. 

The Mexico Grand Prix marked almost a month of you and Max sneaking around, your relationship hidden under layers of secrecy. At first, it felt exhilarating - like a thrilling game of cat and mouse. But now, the weight of it all was starting to wear on you. Every time you worked with Charles, you felt the urge to be extra cautious, wondering if they’d catch on. 

Charles, however, was one of those people who noticed everything. He was incredibly observant, which was great for his career, but terrible for your dating life. You’d always been able to trust him, but now, more than ever, you knew there was a chance he’d see right through your facade. 

It started when Max began popping up near the Ferrari garages more frequently. At first, you tried to brush it off. He was friends with Charles after all, and they shared a lot of casual conversations. It wasn’t entirely out of place for Max to be around. But you couldn’t ignore the feeling in the pit of your stomach every time you saw Charles’ eyes flicker toward Max’s presence. He wasn’t stupid, and he certainly wasn’t one to miss small details. 

It was the Friday evening of the Mexico Grand Prix weekend when it finally happened. You and Charles were wrapping up a media session, and you had just sent a quick text to Max, asking if he wanted to grab dinner later. 

You knew you had to be careful, but you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. Charles, ever the observant one, raised an eyebrow as he saw your phone light up. 

“You and Max, huh?” he said casually, pushing his sunglasses to sit on top of his head as the two of you headed toward the exit. 

You froze, your heart skipping a beat. You tried to keep your face neutral, but Charles wasn’t an easy person to fool.

“What?” you asked, your voice just a little too high pitched. “What do you mean?” 

Charles glanced at you, a grin spreading across his face. “You’re not exactly subtle,” he teased. “You’ve been spending an awful lot of time near Red Bull recently… and I can’t help but notice how much time you’ve been texting or sneaking off. And then there’s the way you two look at each other. I’m not blind.” 

Your fingers ran through your hair as a defeated sigh left your lips. “Fine. Yeah, we’re together” you admitted, before your tone hardened and you stuck a finger at the Monegasque. “But, you cannot tell anyone. We’re keeping it private for a while. Away from the media.” 

While his eyes widened for a second before returning to normal size, Charles nodded. “I get it. You don’t need to explain. Your secret is safe with me.”

That claim lasted maybe 42 hours. 

Now, you couldn’t entirely blame him this time, the post race media scrum was always full of high emotions. You were in the back of the media pen, snapping photos of the Ferrari drivers and listening to them drone on about how the race could’ve gone better. You were half listening to Charles and Carlos as they talked about their performance in the race, nodding along politely while your mind wandered. 

You glanced over your shoulder, just for a moment, but it was enough. There, amidst the sea of reporters and photographers, you spotted Max making his way to the media pen. He was talking to a few media personnel, but your eyes locked for a brief second. It was a quiet moment, but it was yours - and it was so easy to forget about everything else when it was just the two of you in the world. 

You snapped back to reality as Max approached Charles, congratulating him on the podium. Clicks of your camera captured the conversation between the two of them, and that’s when you heard it. 

“Congrats on the relationship.” 

You froze for a second, your camera still raised in front of your face. Charles’ voice, casual and light, carried over the noise of the media pen. The words were simple, yet they hit like a sucker punch. 

Max’s face didn’t show much. His usual stoic expression settled back into place almost immediately, but you could see the slight tightening of his jaw. He was trying to keep it together, but Charles’ slip up had caught him off guard. 

You quickly adjusted your camera’s focus, snapping more photos of Charles and Max, hoping it would somehow mask the panic you were feeling. You’d already been on edge for days, wondering when it would happen, and now Charles had inadvertently dropped the bomb. 

Max thanked him, but his gaze flickered between Charles and you. Your stomach churned, your hands suddenly felt clammy. You couldn’t help but feel exposed, like everyone could hear the weight behind the comment, even if they didn’t understand its full meaning. 

Thankfully, you and Charles were flying to Brazil on AirMax, so there was plenty of time to yell at him for his slip up. You were the last one on board, tossing your bags onto an empty seat, but continued walking until you stopped in front of Charles. 

“What did I tell you?” you asked, crossing your arms and glaring at the Ferrari driver

Charles, who had been scrolling through his phone before you approached, went rigid at the sound of your voice. He looked up at you, a sheepish smile spreading across his face, already expecting an earful to come his way. 

“I didn’t mean any harm,” he said, voice tinged with a hint of nervousness. “It didn’t help that you two were practically eye-fucking when he walked into the media pen.” 

You raised an eyebrow, letting the tension build slightly as you stood in front of him. “That still doesn’t mean you can say that in front of the media!” you exclaimed

Max appeared from the back of the plane, presumably finishing loading his stuff on. He was a few steps behind you, and let out a soft exhale as he leaned against one of the seats. He didn’t need to step in - this was between you and Charles - but you could still feel his presence, like a calm buffer. Still, you couldn’t help but feel the strain of keeping this secret for so long, especially now that it seemed to be slipping out. 

Charles shifted uncomfortably under your gaze, but he was still wearing that sheepish grin. “I didn’t say anything too bad, did I?” he asked, clearly trying to deflect the heat. 

You took a deep breath, trying to keep your cool. It. was hard when your heart was still racing from that moment in the media pen. “It’s not just about what you said,” you said, your tone still firm but a little less heated. “It’s about timing. You know how important it is for us to keep this private. The moment you say something like that, especially where you said it, makes it public, Charles.” 

“But no one asked about it, no?” he asked, his head tilting slightly 

You opened your mouth to answer, to say people did ask and that it all blew up in your face. But you couldn’t, because no one asked you. Everyone else went on with their day like it was nothing. 

Your eyes darted to Max for help, almost hoping that someone asked him about it to prove your point to Charles. But he looked as lost as you felt. You could see the gears turning in his head as he recalled his media duties. But there was no immediate savior in his gaze, no quick answer to make everything right. 

“I mean… I didn’t get asked anything about it,” he admitted, shrugging 

“Exactly,” Charles said, his sheepish grin turning more into a more relaxed smirk. “I fucked up, I know. But it definitely could’ve been a lot worse.”

“Yes, it could’ve,” you agreed. “And I’m glad it wasn’t. But you need to be a lot more careful with what you say and where you say it,” you continued, the firmness creeping back slightly into your voice. 

Charles looked at you, his expression softening. He could tell you weren’t just mad; you were genuinely worried. About him. About the situation. About everything. It was rare for you to let your guard down like this, but Charles was one of the few who could see right through it. 

“I know,” he said quietly, his playful tone gone. “I’m sorry, really. I didn’t mean to cause any harm.”

The air in the cabin felt a little less heavy after that, but there was still some lingering unease. You exchanged a glance with Max, and for the first time in a while, he seemed just as uncertain about how to move forward. Keeping your relationship a secret had always been a delicate dance, and Charles had almost just waltzed right into a landmine. 

You let out a long breath, trying to release some of the frustration that had been building. “Okay. I forgive you, but please, be careful next time,” you said, trying to sound more forgiving than you felt. “This is important to us. We’re doing this for a reason.” 

Charles nodded, “I promise, I won’t make that mistake again. I’ll keep my mouth shut.” 

You smiled a little, your frustration fading into something a bit more lighthearted. “Good,” you said, then turned to Max, offering him a small but genuine smile. “We’ve got enough to worry about without adding unnecessary drama.”

As the plane touched down in Brazil, you couldn’t shake the thought that maybe keeping the relationship under wraps wouldn’t be as hard as it seemed.

But one thing was clear: your secret was no longer just between you and Max. It was shared, whispered among those who cared, and now it was just a matter of how long you could keep the world from finding out. 

[whatsverstappeningnow]

how f1 drivers react

to girlfriend!reader wearing a necklace with their race number on it (some slightly suggestive lines included) (requested)

drivers mentioned: MV33, LN4, OP81, AA23, CS55, CL16, LH44, GR63

max verstappen

The sun shines in through the kitchen window in golden strings of light. It's a quiet day at home, with no plans till the afternoon and no need to hurry there. Still, you've already dressed yourself in a new summer dress you've bought. The material flows down over your hips, swishing as you turn in the mirror and then as you walk from your bedroom to the living room to show Max your chosen outfit. But you dress isn't the only new item you're wearing.

You'd bought it secretly. A suprise. One you hoped he'd love.

Max spots the necklace right away, his gaze flicking from your eyes, to the dress and then landing on it with a sudden, knowing smirk curling at his mouth. From where's he's sat on the couch, he leans in just a little, elbows on his knees and head resting on his upturned hand. His voice low and teasing as he speaks.

“Well, well, look at you,” he says, voice thick with amusement and something a bit more dangerous.

"You like my new dress?" You ask, giving him a quick spin, hands in the air for a moment and then settling on your waist. His gaze lingers over you with careful precision.

"Not the only new thing you've got on," he muses, tilting his head to the side slightly, "Where'd you get that?"

"Ordered it," you say simply, as if it were nothing at all, as you readjust the necklace chain.

“Careful, schat. Trying to make sure no one forgets who you belong to, huh?”

He stands, slowly, holding your gaze. He stalks towards you, one hand reaching out to hold your waist, the other fingering the chain of the necklace, his eyes lingering on the number and then dragging up to meet your gaze.

You catch the challenge in his eyes and flash him a grin in return. “Maybe I just like the idea of having you close, all the time.”

The teasing in his expression softens in an instant. His fingers gently brush the pendant as he looks at you, eyes warm and serious now.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, voice softer, “I like the sound of that.”

He pulls you into a quick kiss, no dramatics, just the softnes of quiet love, then he lets his forehead rest against yours.

“You don't know what you do to me,” he whispers into the small space between the two of you, his eyes resting closed like he's still processing the necklace and the dress. It's barely any distsnce at all, yet it feels like a mile. You can feel the warmth of his breath on your lips.

"I think I've got some idea." You smile. He does too.

lando norris

He notices it while you’re lying beside each other on the couch, limbs tangled up together in a familar way, and watching some random movie you're only half paying attention to. It's background noise more than anything. You couldn't care less though, just being with Lando was enough to make you relax.

It's about halfway through the movie, with some museum scene plays across the screen, when he notices the new shiny necklace hanging around your neck.

“Wait—hang on. Is that… is that my number?” His voice, though scratchy and slow from tiredness, goes up slightly as he speaks. The little queaks of excitement in his words make you smile.

You can only nod, biting back a smile, desperate to see his reaction. You'd bought the necklace on a whim a few nights ago and were lucy it had arrived while Lando wasn't home. The fun was the suprise of it, after all.

He stretches forward for the remote, sat on the coffee table infront of you two, and pauses the movie dramatically.

“You love me.”

You blink, a small laugh bubbling in your chest at his sudden and sombre declaration.

“I mean, yeah, obviously—”

“No, no. This is serious,” he says, grinning from ear to ear like an madman, all teeth and dimples. “You got a number four on your chest. That’s, like, actual dedication.”

You raise a brow, amused. “It’s just a necklace.”

“Just a—?” He gasps, scandalised, hand to his chest and all, like you’ve personally offended him. “That’s my number. You realise what you’ve done, right? You’re basically branded now.”

“Branded?”

He nods solemnly, though his eyes are still sparkling with excitement. “Yup. You wear that out and people are gonna know. Like, know know. I won’t even have to introduce you anymore. They’ll see it and go, ‘Ah, that’s Lando’s girl.’”

You can't help but laugh now, full bellied and joyful, and he grins wider as he hears it, if that’s even possible.

He tackles you into the cushions, kissing your neck with soft pecks. “Next step: matching tattoos. Just saying.”

"Lando!" you cry out with a huff of amusement, knowing he's entirely joking.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding..." His quiet for a moment, then looks up at you again with a cheeky grin. "Unless..."

"Lando, no. If you want everyone to know you’re mine, I have a few other ways in mind..." Your hand reaches out to his collarbone, then traces soft lines up to his neck and jawline. Your touch is hot and familiar, slow and intentional. You can see him swallow hard as you do it.

"Oh, yeah? Maybe you could show me them. Just to make sure we're on the same page, love."

oscar piastri

Coffee dates with Oscar are a constant in your life. There's a small shop around the corner from his place that you love to visit on quiet, sunny days. When the sun rose that morning, seemingly shinning brighter than normal, and with a particually joyful sparkle, you knew it was a coffee date day.

It was the perfect time to show Oscar your new piece of jewellery.

He notices the necklace while you’re talking, halfway through a sip of his coffee, eyes slipping from your gaze to the number hanging around you neck. The unexpected, but not undesired, sight causes him to do a double take.

“Wait…” he leans in, interupting your sentence, though you don't mind. You only smile softly as he squints slightly, slowly taking in the sight infront of him, then blinks up at you with slight disbelief. “Is that... 81. My number?”

You nod just once, a little shy, and pick up the charm that dangle from the end of the chain, holding it closer for him to see. He leans in to meet you halfway. But before you can say anything else, a deep blush spreads across his face. He cheeks go an adorable shade of pink as you watch the cogs turn in his brain.

His mouth opens like he has a joke ready, but nothing comes out except a breathy little laugh.

“That’s… kinda cute,” he mutters, eyes still fixed on it like he’s really trying to quickly process all the implications of you going outside wearing his number so casually. “But, like, uh, cool cute. Really cool.” He clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck.

When you smile and say it’s because you like having him close all the time, he looks down, shaking his head with a small, dimply smile. The blush on his cheeks remains, though he looks less caught off guard than before.

“You’re gonna make me soft,” he murmurs, his hands reaching out to hold yours across the table. Then under his breath, he adds, “Will you wear it to the race next week? Please. Even just under your jumper.”

You agree, of course. You hadn't bought the necklace to hide it away, and you tell him as much. Your words just make him smile and pull you hand closer towards him to plant a gentle kiss to your knuckles. Then it's your turn to blush, squeezing his hand with a smile.

And when you do wear it the next week, proudly walking into the paddock hand in had with Oscar, his smile is brighter than any coffee date day sun has ever been.

carlos sainz

Carlos, the gentleman that he is, loved to plan spontaneous dates. One more occasions than one, what you thought was going to be a quiet night at home had turned into the romantic night out. Candles on resturant tables, hands holding your and taking out the chair for you, the whole deal. Which was how you once again found yourself picking out a fancy outfit, wit no idea which resterant you were going to.

It was sweet of him, though you did wish you had a little more to go on than just wear something pretty, not so hard you you, yes? to go off of while trying to pick your outfit. Settling on an old favourite outfit, you slipped into it with ease, only calling Carlos in when you realised you needed help zipping up the back. Upon hearing his name, he pattered into the room obediently, already dressed in his dress shirt and pants, look perfectly put together.

"Gorgeous, cariño," he whispered into your ear after doing as you asked, "Anything else you need, my love?"

With a barely concelled smirk, you went over to your jewellery box and pulled out your new necklace.

"Help me put this on?" you asked innocently, walking over to him, placing it delicately in his hand and turning around, patiently awaiting his reaction.

“¿Qué es esto?” he asks, his voice light and breathy.

You smile, though it's more of a smirk than anything, but don't turn around. “A little something I got, it's new.”

“Number fifty five?” he says, fingertips ghosting along the back of your neck as he put it on for you, then settling his touch onto your hips to admire your outfit in the mirrors reflection, his head resting on your shoulder. “Dios mío, I’ve turned you into a fangirl, hm?”

“I've always been a fan.”

His brows lift, amused and smug, head tilted slightly to the side. “Of me? Or just the accent?

“Mostly the arms,” you quip, resting your hands ontop of his.

He laughs, pulling you closer and pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. “That’s permanent, right? Not just for today? Because I kind of love seeing my number right there.”

“So everyone will know I'm yours?” you joke, voice light.

He kisses your temple, voice low. “Sí. I like it that way. I'm yours. And you're mine.”

alex albon

He’s on his way out the door, backpack on and car keys in hand, when he finally notices it hanging from your neck.

You had it on all day and waited patiently at breakfast, then on your walk together, then through lunch, and then while he was getting ready to leave your apartment. for him to notice, but he simply hadn’t. The whole day. That was, until now.

You we're glad he finally had, you would have hated to have spoiled the fun and justed showed it to him yourself after going through all the trouble of buying it secretly and hiding in in the back of your pjamama drawer.

Oh, well. At least he had spotted it before leaving, now the fun could begin.

His mouth drops open into the perfect little ‘o’ shape as he stares at the little shinny 23 hanging down from around your neck. His eyes are glued to the necklace, one outstretched finger pointing at it.

“Wait, what is that?”

You smile, and wave your hands around it with fluttering fingers. “A new necklace. Nice, right?”

He squints, then closes the front door softly and steps closer to you. “Is that my number?”

“Don’t let it get to your head.” You smirk, and tilt your head slightly to the side, trying to hold in your laugh at the stunned, suprised look on his face.

He dramatically clutches his chest, standing right in front of you now. “Too late. You’ve turned me into a puddle. I've melted.”

Then he leans in, eyes glowing with mischief as his hands reach out to grab your upper arms. “Just promise me one thing. Please?”

His voice drips with glee.

“What?”

“If someone, some guy, ever comes up to you in public... ask for your number or something, you better point to that necklace, and then say my name. Clearly. Loudly. Alex. Alex Albon. 23. Got it? Yeah?”

You roll your eyes, laughing at his bright smile. “You’re unbelievable."

“Unbelievably lovable, yes. Hence you having my number arounf your neck.”

You could only laugh harder at his smug expression and mock dramatic tone. After pressing a soft kiss to his lips, you reply, "You're so stupid. Truly.”

"Stupidly in love with you? Definitely."

"You're lucky I love you too."

"Luckiest guy in the world, I know."

charles leclerc

You'd been wearing it for a few days already, under jumpers and high necked shirts. it felt like a little secret, a constant reminder that Charles was with you even when we wasn't actually next to you. You weren't exactly keeping it a secret, per say, but you hadn't yet put it on display.

He notices it at the most random time, while you’re brushing your teeth, hair up, wearing one of his old shirts. The collor of the shirt, well-worn and stretch, dipped over your collarbone and revealling the shiny little necklace you were wearing under neither..

He squints, rubbing his eye from tiredness, or maybe slight disbelief. “Sixteen?”

You nod around a mouthful of toothpaste, toothbrush sticking out one side of your mouth, the edge of your lips curling up into a small smirk.

“Mon dieu,” he mutters, half teasing, half stunned, coming to stand behind you and wrapping his arms around possessively around your waist. He rests his weight onto you, curling into your warmth. “You’re more sentimental than me.”

You spit, rinse, and smile, Charles never moving from his place behind you. It's a purely domestic scene, a moment that reminds you how comfortbale you exist in eachother's orbit. “I wanted something cute to remind me of you. Something to keep with me when your away.”

He watches you through the mirror, soft eyes watching you move with a tired ease, hands pressing comforting circles into your hips. A constant warm presence. “You should have told me, I would loved to buy it for you. You deserve many pretty things, chérie.”

You lean back into him, letting his body mold to yours. You fit perfectly into eachothers embrace.

“I didn’t need you to buy it,” you murmur, reaching down to toy with the charm. “It felt more special this way. Like it was mine to choose.”

He hums into the crook of your neck, nose brushing softly against your skin. “Still,” he says, voice low and a little hoarse from sleep, “I would’ve added matching earrings. A whole Charles Leclerc collection.”

You snort, turning around to look him in the eyes, hands reaching out to hold his face between your palms. “I don’t need anything else. Just you.”

His expression shifts, tender and quietly overcome. He presses a slow kiss to your lips, then you forehead, and pulls you against him. “You have me. Even when I’m not here. Especially then.”

There’s a pause. A quiet that isn’t awkward or heavy, just full of feeling. He looks down at the necklace again, then back at you with a soft smile, one you only ever see when he's looking at you.

Charles sighs, breath warm and ticklish against your skin. “Sixteen looks good on you,” he says eventually. And those simple words hold within them a hundred different meanings you can't wait to dream about all night.

"I'll have to wear it more often, then," you say simply, and the words make him smile even wider.

lewis hamilton

You and Lewis had gotten to the truly domestic era of your relationship. You had keys to each other’s apartments, and you knew you could let yourselves into each other's spaces. So when Lewis texted you, saying he had work to do at home, but you were welcome to come and sit with him while he did it, exist in his orbit for the afternoon, you were soon letting yourself in his front door. Any chance to spend time with Lewis was an opportunity you took, escpeccialy given his busy schedule.

Lewis notices it the second you walk in, even if you don’t realise he’s looking. He’s lounging on the sofa with his laptop resting on his lap, reading something, probably reviewing data notes or one of the endless supply of emails he recieved, but the moment his eyes flick up and land on your necklace, all his focus slips away from him.

He closes the laptop slowly, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, subtle and calm. The kind of smile that makes your chest ache with warmth and familiarity. Lewis' smiles had a way of making you feel whole.

“That’s for me?” he asks gently, nodding toward your necklace. His voice is quiet, curious. His gaze lingers on the number, just visible beneath the open collar of your shirt.

You glance down, fingers brushing over it self-consciously. “I thought it suited me,” you say, only half teasing.

He stands, putting the laptop on the coffee table infront of him, and crosses the room with unhurried ease.

One hand comes up to cradle the charm between his fingers, his thumb gliding over the number as though memorising it by touch.

“It suits you better than me,” he murmurs, a hint of joking in his tone, eyes lifting to yours. "I’m flattered.”

"Flattered?" you said, giggling slightly at his word choice.

"Well, yeah. A pretty girl is wearing my number, how else should I feel?" He lets the necklace fall back against your skin, then adds with a little smirk, “Might need to get something with your initials now. Y’know, to keep things balanced.”

You smirk, letting your hand rest on his chest. “What, like a bracelet? Property of...”

“Necklace. Tattoo. Your name embroidered on my socks... I’m not picky.” He shrugs and sighs dramatically, clearly enthralled by his own joke.

You lean into his embrace, shaking your head as he pulls you into a sweet kiss, his arms wrapping around you with familiar ease and comfort.

“You’re such a sap,” you murmured into his hoodie, resting your head on his chest as you speak.

“And you’re mine,” he said, grinning down at you, hand lingering on your lower back. “So I think we’re even.”

george russell

It’s a lazy Sunday morning spent at your usual breakfast spot. Just off a main road, the quiet atmosphere was the perfect place to unwind and relax on a slow morning. You were dressed casually, sunglasses pushed up on your head for look more than necessity, and your new favorite necklace catching the light and resting around your neck. The necklace, more than anything, you hoped he’d notice.

You slide into the booth across from him, pressing a kiss to his cheek first before sitting down, dropping your bag and stretching your arms out in front of you with a sleepy smile. You hadn't arrived together, George having to go to an extra early meeting and you prefering to sleep in on such a gorgeous morning. But it made it the perfect time to show off the new addition to your jewellery collection.

George doesn’t say anything at first, but you watch as his eyes widen slightly as he spots it. Instead of immediately reacting, he takes a slow moment to sip his coffee, watching you with that knowing look that makes your stomach flip.

Then, with a teasing smirk tugging at his lips, he tilts his head and says, “You’re really trying to make this obvious, huh?”

You glance across at him, shrugging and feigning confusion. “I don't know what you mean.”

He gestures toward your necklace with his half-finished coffee. “The whole ‘I’m madly in love with a certain F1 driver’ energy you’ve got going on with that necklace.”

You laugh, resting your chin on your upturned hand. “Maybe I just thought it looked cute. Favourite number. Totally nothing to do with you, sorry.”

“Mm,” he hums, matching your posture with his head on his own hand and leaning towards you slightly with a growing grin. “Or maybe you just wanted the world to know you’re taken.”

“Think it's working?”

“Oh, definitely,” he says, eyes gleaming and a light edge colouring his words. “But now I’m going to have to step up my game. Watch out. I might start wearing your initials. Embroidered. Everywhere. Just to make sure everyone knows I'm definitely off the market.”

You snort at his dramatics, but match his teasing tone. “George Russell, turning up to the paddock with my name monogrammed onto his fireproofs? Oh, the scandal!”

He grins, and laughs as he leans back in his chair. “You think I won’t?”

You roll your eyes and sigh, but you’re blushing now, and he can see it. He reaches across the table to tap your necklace gently with one finger and intertwined your hands with the other.

“It looks good on you,” he says, voice quieter now, sincere, like it’s a secret he doesn't want the rest of the room to hear. “I like knowing you carry a little piece of me around with you.”

Your smile softens, the moment suddenly feeling much softer than before. “I always do. Not just the necklace.”

He grins, like he’s won something more important than a race. “Still getting the monogrammed suit, though.”

“You’re such a menace.”

“A menace in love,” he says proudly, then flags down the waiter like nothing's happened.

taglist: @verogonewild

(comment if you would like to be added!)

[vitalverstappen]

Flash Forward - M. Verstappen (part one)

summary: The world of F1 is never easy. Throw in reuniting with your childhood enemy? You're in for a wild season.

pairing: Max Verstappen x Fem!reader (Ferrari photographer, graffiti artist, child hood enemies), Charles Leclerc x platonic fem!reader

warnings: imposter syndrome, mentions of Jos Verstappen, borderline anxiety attack, swearing, drinking, allusions to sex, lots of pining, use of y/n

a/n: This was written with the 2022 season in mind. I also know nothing about the Belgian/Dutch school systems so I took what I know about the American/UK systems. Hopefully it makes sense! Some of the race results are inaccurate to fit the storyline. Sue me.

word count: 20.3k

masterlist

part two // part three

Max Verstappen. A name you loathed as a child. He was always on edge, striving to be the best in anything he did. It didn’t matter if it was a karting race or a math quiz, he had to be number one. Max knew what it took to succeed in life and he spent day in and day out making sure that he was ahead of the game.

He was an overachiever to say the least. 

Y/n L/n, on the other hand, was relaxed. She went with the flow of life, truly only trying when it was necessary, or if it interested her. The girl wasn’t lazy, she just knew that school wasn’t going to help her in the long run. She was a rule breaker, pushing everything and everyone to their limits. 

They were on opposite ends of any spectrum. 

Age 4

Art class was always your favorite time of the day. It gave you the freedom to express yourself exactly how you wanted - no rules to follow, no one hovering over your shoulder criticizing you. 

It was finger painting day, which you adored. An excuse to get messy, what child didn’t love that? Your fingers swirled across the page as the world in your head came to life with the paint. A castle in the distance as the prince and princess fell in love in the center. 

“What is that?” Max asked from the table across from yours 

A toothy grin formed on your face as you turned the page around to show him. “It’s a princess!” 

A laugh came from Max as he took in your painting “A princess? That’s so lame” 

Quickly, you turned your painting back around, as a rosy glow formed on your cheeks. “What are you painting?” 

Max held up his paper with the same goofy grin you had on moments earlier. A single green blob was on the page. “It’s a racecar!” 

“That doesn’t look like a racecar” You said as you grabbed some paint “ Let me help!” 

“No!” 

Max was too slow with his words as you took the paper from him. He could only watch in horror as you glided your paint covered fingers across the page. 

“There. A race car!” You exclaimed as you passed the paper back to the boy

“You ruined my painting!” He cried “Teacher! Teacher!” 

And that’s how you found yourself being lectured by your art teacher about how you needed to respect other people’s belongings. 

Age 8

As the two of you reached age 8, you each had found sports to fall in love with. In Max’s instance, he was forced into karting by his dad. You, on the other hand, fell in love with skateboarding on your own. Months were spent begging your parents to get you one after you saw a group of kids at a skatepark. For Christmas, your parents finally broke and got you a board to learn. 

Many hours were spent with one of your parents on the asphalt as they helped you learn how to skate properly. After what felt like decades with one of them holding your hand as you pushed off from the ground, you finally got the confidence to ride by yourself. 

A puffy blue jacket was wrapped around your body as you stood on your driveway. A chill rushed through your body as you strapped your bright pink helmet on your head before grabbing your board. 

Hours were spent practicing riding the board in straight lines, going back and forth on the driveway. Some runs were better than others, but you could feel yourself getting better as the day went on. 

The sound of engines quickly filled the neighborhood, a telltale sign that the Verstappens were doing their karting practice. Moments passed and the roar grew louder. It was a matter of time before they ended up on your street. 

Sure enough, you could see the Verstappen half siblings racing each other. The larger of the two, Max, was far ahead from his younger sister. You weren’t expecting Max to stop when he got to your house. 

“Skateboarding?” He asked over the sound of the kart “Isn’t that for boys?” 

You shook your head as you hopped back on your board “It’s for girls too!” 

“Yeah, and unicorns are real” He shot back. You couldn’t tell if you imagined it, or if Max truly had laughed at you as he revved his engine again before taking off, leaving you behind in a cloud of smoke. 

Age 12 

By the time you reached year eight, Max had been competing in national karting championships, leaving your interactions to be few and far between. You had continued your love of skateboarding and art, leaning into photography. 

Somehow you ended up in ownership of a cheap, small point and shoot camera. Regardless if the photos never turned out clear or if the battery ran out at the most inopportune times, you fell in love with the camera. It became a part of you, as your friends and family found it odd when you didn’t have the device in your hands. 

Your best friend Lindsay and her family had dragged you to the local karting track. Her brother was in the race, and Lindsay wanted someone to keep her company other than her parents. 

It was a rainy Sunday morning, but neither you or Lindsay cared. Rain boots splashed through puddles and mud around the track, as the two of you played games during the warmup laps. As the race drew nearer, the clouds began to part. 

“Lindsay!” You called, getting your friend's attention “I wanna take some photos!” 

“Okay!” She yelled back 

You quickly ran to get your camera, its bright red color sticking out of your bag. After you grabbed it, you ran back to where Lindsay was. She struck a pose with a toothy grinned smile. 

Click!

Giggles filled the air as the two of you looked at the photo. Your eyes were taken off the camera screen as the karts whizzed by. The karts captivated you, leaving you wanting more as they drove away.

You darted over to the fence, barely being able to stick your camera lens through the holes. Impatience grew as you waited for the karts to drive by again. A minute passed. Then another. Then the engines roared louder as you clicked your camera a few times. 

Once the karts rushed past, you jumped back from the fence. The screen showed the photos you had just taken. They were a bit blurry, but if anything it helped capture the speed.

When the race finished, you and Lindsay darted over to Parc ferme where Lindsay’s brother and his kart were. From a distance, you were able to watch as he climbed out of his kart, right behind the second place sign. 

Click! Click! 

The first place kart pulled up to its respective spot, and you couldn’t help but stare. Whoever was in the kart was a natural. All eyes were on him as he got out of his kart and threw his arms in the air in celebration.

Click! Click! Click!

The mysterious kart driver’s head whipped around when he heard the sound of your camera. When he finally found you, his helmet tipped in confusion, before he began taking it off. 

“Did you just take a photo of me?” The boy asked. Once the helmet was off of his head, regret filled your head. You should have never agreed to coming. 

“Uh yeah, Max. I did.” You answered

“Why?” He asked, causing you to shrug in response. You didn’t have a real answer.

“I just wanted to. I didn’t realize it was you” You spoke “Do you want to see?” 

“No.” Max answered bluntly before walking away. Typical. 

As the podium happened, you couldn’t help but to snap a few more photos of the top three. You hated that Max was the subject of most of the photos you took, but the excitement you got from snapping the raw emotions on everyone’s face made it worth it.

Age 16

When you reached sixteen, that love of photography grew, and you found a new love for graffiti, much to Max’s dismay. 

The sun was setting on the skatepark you had been practicing your tricks at all evening. When the lot finally emptied out of families and other teens, the sound of cans clanking filled the air as you dropped your backpack. You were never one to carry any books around, so you figured you’d make the bag useful for paint. 

You had been eyeing a blank spot on the base of a ramp the entire evening. After picking out the colors you needed for this project, you flipped your hood up and put on a mask, trying to hide your identity, and got to work. 

The sun was long set by the time you finished the base layers with only some of the details. The harsh lighting of the street lamp was your only help. Graffiti definitely took time, but it was time you wouldn’t spend anywhere else. Your artistry was stopped when you heard a familiar lisp. 

“Uh excuse me, you shouldn’t be doing that” The voice said. 

You didn’t need to turn around to know it was Max. His intonation was recognizable from miles away. What did puzzle you though, was what he was doing out so late. 

Regardless, you ignored him, hoping that he would just mind his business and go away. But that’s not how Max worked. 

“You need to stop. That’s vandalism” He said again 

“It’s none of your business, Max. Go away” You finally spoke, turning around 

In the light of the streetlamp, you could see Max’s eyebrows furrow. He was along the sidewalk, not too close to you, but close enough to roughly make out his features. 

“Y/n?” He asked “What are you doing out so late?” 

“I could ask you the same thing, Verstappen. You’re never in town anymore” You said, tossing the can of red paint into your bag before picking up the light blue.

“I was out for a run. I have the week off from racing” He explained before his eyes left yours and back to the art behind you. “You do graffiti?”  

“And still doing photography.” You added “I’ll swing by and take some photos of this place in the morning” 

“You’re going to get in trouble” He blurted out. Some things never change.

A laugh escaped your lips as you turned back to your art, spraying on the light blue in the shape of a ghost. “That’s why I’m doing it at night. Fewer people around, less likely to get caught” 

“But you got caught. I see you doing it right now. I could call the cops.” He suggested 

“Be my guest.” You scoffed as you turned back to him “They have no proof it was me except your eyes. There’s no security here at all. No cameras or anything” 

Max opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. He knew you were right. He would be the only witness, and you knew the police didn’t go solely off of that. Checkmate. 

He shook his head “Whatever. It better look good” He said as he started his run again 

“It’s not like you’re gonna be around here again anyway” You yelled after him before turning back to your painting of PacMan and his ghosts. 

The police sirens never did fill the air that night. 

You didn’t realize it at the time, but you were right that Max would rarely be around the town. While you barely graduated from grade school and dropped out after your first semester of university, Max broke onto the Formula One scene as the youngest driver in history. 

As you got older, you found yourself going out for spray painting adventures less frequently. You still loved the art of it, but turned to more legal ways of expressing it - by putting it on canvas. When you did put down the cans, you opted for a camera to fill its place. The point and shoot camera you got years ago turned into a high quality film one, which slowly phased into a DSLR. You adored your film cameras and loved being able to process your own photos, but digital photos truly captured your heart. 

You reignited your passion for sports photography from when you were younger. Any chance to photograph a sport, you jumped at it. Whether it was motorsports, soccer, or ice hockey, your favorite place to be was behind the camera, capturing the raw emotion of the athletes.

Age 24 // Sakhir, Bahrain 

Drills whirled as you walked down pit lane, each team perfecting their pit stop routines. You couldn’t help but stare as the team worked like a unit - moving in one singular motion. 

The first day in the paddock was overwhelming to say the least. There were so many new faces you had been introduced to, along with many rules that Annalese had word vomited at you. It was all hard to keep track of. 

You adjusted the collar of the bright red Ferrari polo that was underneath your camera strap. After countless rigorous interview rounds and portfolio submissions, the team finally offered you a spot on their photography staff. While you had loved jumping from sport to sport in the past, you were finally glad to have a home in Formula One. 

Both Charles and Carlos gave you a quick wave as you passed by the Ferrari garage. You had met them during the preseason meetings back at headquarters, and both boys welcomed you to the family with open arms. Annalease had mentioned you’d be working more with Charles, as he was your assigned driver, but there would always be opportunities to snap photos of Carlos. 

“And to our other side is the Red Bull garage.” She said as the two of you walked towards the blue terminal. She was finishing up your tour of pit lane, after starting from the very back of the stretch. 

You had expected the garage to be mostly empty, as you saw most of their team heading back to the Energy Station. A few engineers were left tinkering with the cars, getting ready for the first testing session. But a familiar blonde was standing in the middle of his garage, analyzing his machine. 

It was only a matter of time before you were going to see him, but you didn’t expect it to be on your first day. Years had passed since you last saw him - eight to be exact. Just like you had, Max grew up. His blonde hair was a little bit longer, but still just as neat as it was growing up. He had filled out his body more, his bobble head now looking normal sized. 

Max must’ve felt someone watching him, as his head snapped up from whatever he was looking at on his car. He looked around his garage before finally finding you outside of it.

“Y/n L/n?” Max asked as his eyes blinked a few times, clearly not believing what he saw. 

“Max” You replied, confirming it was in fact you. 

“Do you two know each other?” Annalese asked, her eyes moving from you to Max, and back to you.

“Yeah, uh, we were childhood…” You trailed off, not sure how to label your distaste for Max

“Classmates. We were in grade school together” The driver spoke. He walked from his spot beside his car towards the entrance to the garage, stopping only a few feet away from where you and Annalese were. “What are you doing here?” 

The camera in your hand seemed to grow heavier as you lifted it. “Photography. Ferrari hired me for the season” You explained, Max’s ears perking up in response. 

“Yeah, she’s the best one we’ve had in a while.” Annalease said before patting you on the shoulder, “Well I’ll leave the two of you alone to catch up”

You opened your mouth to protest both of her statements, but by the time you figured out how, she had disappeared into the Ferrari garage next door. Max was still looking at you as you turned your head back to him. As quickly as you met his eyes, you lost them as yours searched the area looking for something to talk about. 

When your eyes landed on his car, you spoke. “So number one, huh?” 

“Yeah, it’s still kind of unreal” He admitted, looking back at his car before turning back to look at you. You could tell Max was analyzing you, just as you did to him before he noticed your presence on pit lane. “So Ferrari photographer, huh?” 

A small smile crept onto your lips as you moved your camera away from your chest, revealing the team logo. “Yeah, it was a big step from what I’ve done in the past, but I hope it was the right one.” 

Max opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by one of his engineers. He turned to face the garage before looking back at you. “I gotta go. Last minute stuff before testing. I’ll see you around”

“I’ll see you around” You repeated before the two of you turned, making your way to your respective garages. 

Melbourne, Australia 

The early sunrise crept through your blinds, signaling it was time to get up. While you didn’t have much to do until media day tomorrow, you wanted to take advantage of traveling all around the world. 

After freshening up and changing into your bright red windbreaker, you creaked open your hotel door. It was still early, and you did not want to be the reason why the rest of the team woke up grumpy. The door shut silently behind you as you turned to find the elevators. 

“What are you doing up?” You heard, causing you to jump out of your skin. Down the hall was Max, leaving his hotel just as you were. 

“And what are you doing going around scaring people who are getting up?” You asked as you walked down the hall towards him and the elevators. 

He shrugged “I didn’t mean to. But seriously, no one except me is usually up this early. What are you doing out?”

“Going sightseeing.” You answered. You could hear the hum of the elevator from behind the doors. “What are you doing?” 

“Morning run,” He answered. “Why are you going sightseeing? It’s just a race weekend”

“Yeah, and it’s just my first time on the other side of the world” You chuckled. “How many times have you been to Melbourne?” 

“Uh I think six now?” He answered, though it sounded more like a question

The elevator dinged as the doors parted ways. Max followed you into the car as you hit the lobby button. 

“Six times, and how many times have you taken the opportunity to explore?” You asked. He was silent, the stare at the wall told you everything you needed to know. “Exactly.” 

Max was silent for a moment before finally admitting “I just never really knew where to go” 

“Come with me” You suggested, catching yourself off guard at your own idea. He despised you as a kid, there was no chance he would even think of saying yes. Max’s eyebrows furrowed as he turned to look at you. 

“What?” He asked, confused 

You had every opportunity to say literally anything else, forget that you even thought about hanging out with him. But there was something about the driver, maybe it was the glint in his eye, that prompted you to repeat “Come with me. See the city with me.” 

Max had never been one to cover his emotions, but standing there in the elevator with him, you had no idea what he was thinking. Seconds felt like hours as you waited for his response.

“Fine” He sighed as the elevator opened to the lobby “I can postpone my run a little bit.” 

You couldn’t help but to crack a small smile as the two of you walked out onto the streets of Melbourne. The phone in your hands guided you down the block to your destination. 

“Where are we even going?” Max asked, trailing behind you slightly “You better not be leading me somewhere sketchy”

“Don’t worry, I’m not. We’re going to graffiti alley” You told him. It had been a place you had dreamed of visiting ever since you started spray painting. 

Max stopped in his tracks, a new worry spread across his face. “Graffiti alley? Are you…?” His voice trails off as his eyes glance to your bag. He knew you were always one to express yourself through artwork, but he refused to be linked to any of it. 

“What? No. I mostly paint on canvas now. Besides, I wouldn’t want to cover anyone else’s work.” You answered 

Max didn’t know what to think. It had been years since he had spent more than five minutes with you, and most of that time was spent arguing or trying to annoy the hell out of you. But there he was, taking in the sight of you navigating through the hustle and bustle of Melbourne. You had grown up, just like he had, but unlike his wavering admiration for driving, your dedication to the arts never faltered. As you admired and captured the artwork spray painted along the brick of the buildings in the alleyway, he found his eyes landing on you more often. 

======

Race day could have gone better. While Charles finished on the topstep of the podium, both Carlos and Max were forced to retire. When the cars weren’t speeding past you on the track, you couldn’t help but to look at the photos you had taken earlier in the race. They were good but none of them truly stood out to you. 

Once the race concluded, you sprinted down pit lane towards parc ferme, where you happened to run into Max. 

“Hey! I’m sorry about the car. I’m sure you’ll get it next time” You said

“Yeah, I’m sure. But next time I’m not exploring the city with you” He replied, his voice lacking any emotion

As much as you wanted to ask him what he meant, you knew you had a job to do. Instead of pestering the man, you simply shrugged and continued your laboring sprint down to the cars. 

Miami, USA

Just like all those years ago, Max was right. 

The next time the twenty drivers met on the grid was Imola, where he finished on top of the podium. And sure enough, he did it without exploring the town with you. He was able to sneak through the paddock in Italy without seeing you once. It helped that neither of the Ferrari boys made it onto the podium with him.

But Miami was a different story. It was the first time Formula One made a stop in the 305, so it was no surprise that the media wanted to cover every step that each of these drivers took. Luckily for you, your job wasn’t with McLaren. You swore to have seen those boys in bedazzled crop tops and whispering to the tarmac with James Corden. Your job was just to cover Charles, something you’ve done all season. Unfortunately for you, when Charles wasn’t in the Ferrari garage, there was a high chance he was yapping to Max.

Charles had excused himself into the motorhome for a moment, leaving you and Max alone in the paddock. 

“Congrats on Imola” You said as soon as your coworker disappeared. “Shame you didn’t get to see the city. it was gorgeous” 

“Yeah, I had a lot of pre race prep to do.” He claimed. The glint in his eyes said otherwise. “But thanks, it was good to be back on the podium. It was way too long.”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you turned your head to look at him. “Didn’t you win in Saudi Arabia?” 

Max chuckled before taking a sip of the Red Bull that was in his hand “I did. But still, it’s been way too long.” 

It was no secret that Max held himself to an extremely high standard. Even back in his karting days, you knew that if he didn’t win, he’d be training bright and early the next day. But you had a feeling there was something more to it that Max only let on through the way his expression hardened after the stifled laugh. 

It took everything in you to bite your tongue. The urge to pester him about what he really truly meant lumped in your throat, but you quickly swallowed it back down when you heard Charles leaving the motorhome. 

======

The Ferrari garages were buzzing as both of their drivers locked out the front row, and you were sure to capture the smiles on everyone’s faces going into the race. 

The hot Miami sun beat down on your neck as the smell of burning rubber filled the air. From the video screen you had seen Max had overtaken Carlos, giving you no surprise when you spotted his blue Red Bull creeping behind the Ferrari in first. 

Following in the footsteps of the other photographers, you lifted your camera to your face as the engine roars grew ever so slightly. As the cars made their way around the bend, you, along with the rest of the photographers, captured the battle in front of you.

Charles had put on a show defensively through the first eight laps, giving you plenty of photos that told the story of the fight. As the race egged on though, it was clear that Max was in the faster car. 

By the time you got to pit lane, Max had already crossed the finish line. However he was so far ahead it took a few more seconds to even get sight of Charles and Carlos behind him. When you did, one of the engineers helped you lean out of the pit fence to capture the moments the teammates crossed the finish line. 

Both the Red Bull and the Ferrari garages had a new life to them as all four of the drivers finished in the top four. Along with the engineers, you sprinted down to Parc ferme to celebrate with the sea of red. 

Sweat dripped down your forehead as you finally reached the end of pit lane. Annalese stationed herself by the “3” sign on the right side of Parc ferme, while you squatted by the “2”. As all three cars pulled into their respective spots, camera clicks and cheers filled your ears.

======

Although the two teams were rivals on the track, off of it the teams rarely had bad blood. The Grand Prix after party was no different. Most of your night was spent with Annalese, Charles, and Carlos, but you occasionally found yourself mingling with the other drivers team staff. 

As the night drew on and more drinks filled your system, you could feel the effects of the liquor take place. While the first few drinks you had filled your body with a sense of euphoria, the crash that happened after having more wasn’t worth the high. 

You had excused yourself from the Ferrari group, and you found yourself a secluded booth in the club as your heart sank. It had been at least a few years since you last felt the churning of your stomach, the echoes of your former friends filling your head. 

What were you doing in a club in Miami with a bunch of racecar drivers? This wasn’t the place for you. You should be back in your hometown barely scraping by as everyone around you fulfilled their dreams. You shouldn’t be here. 

The club around you moved in slow motion as you drowned in your thoughts. Every time you thought you were reaching the surface, another wave crashed down and filled your lungs. 

A body sat down across the table from you, but you couldn’t find a way to look up. A muffled voice droned on, though you couldn’t attach a name to either.

It wasn’t until you felt a hand on yours that you snapped out of the fog you were in. Max was sitting across from you, with his hand holding yours. His eyes were intense as he looked at you, genuine concern painted all over his face. 

“Are you okay?” He asked

You shifted in your seat, softly nodding. “Yeah, I’m fine” Your voice wavered more than you would’ve liked.

Max picked up on it as he argued a simple “No you’re not. I’m walking you back to the hotel” 

Before you could protest and claim you were fine, Max had already stood up, taking your hand with him. He led you through the crowd out to the humid Miami night. He respected you enough to not ask what was wrong, but giving you the space to talk if need be.

Neither of you said a word as you walked the few blocks to the hotel, but the silence was enough. His hand never left yours as he navigated the city, eventually leading you to the corner the hotel towered on. 

A thank you left your lips as he walked you to your door. You unlocked the door and began to walk in as Max went on his way to his own. The thoughts from the club still lingered in your mind as you watched him leave. Exhaustion from the long day mixed with your foggy state of mind engulfed you.

“Do you think I belong here?” You asked the man down the hall. Max stopped and turned around to face you.

“Well, do you think you do?” He asked, retracing his footsteps back to your door.

A sigh escaped your lips as you leaned up against the cold door frame. “Honestly? I don’t know.” 

Max simply pushed open the cracked door, guiding you inside. You didn’t need to be stone cold sober to figure out what he was saying. Disappearing to the bathroom, you changed out of your little black dress into an oversized Ferrari hoodie and lounge shorts.  He was sitting on the edge of your bed, his eyes lingering on you as you joined him. 

The bed was softer than you remembered, but your senses were still fuzzy. 

“I’m not meant to be here” You blurted out. “That’s why I was out of it at the club, just getting in my own head.” 

Max was quiet as he took in your words. He knew better than to chime in, you needed to rant, and he was going to give you the space to do so, though he couldn’t wrap his head around why you chose him of all people.

“It’s hard, y’know? Seeing all your friends graduating from university and getting real careers. I tried it - couldn’t even make it through the first semester though. Don’t know why I thought I could do it when I barely graduated grade school” You admitted, running your hand through your hair as you talked

It may have been the drinks you had, but you could’ve sworn Max looked at you with a sense of pity. Even with balancing the challenges that karting brought, he had always been the top of the class, acing every subject that was thrown at him. 

“You still have a real career though” Max finally spoke “You’re doing photography for the most well known team in Formula One. People would kill to have your job”

A scoff left your mouth as you laid back into your bed, allowing the plush mattress to consume you. “Try telling my friends that.” 

Max’s eyebrows furrowed as he turned to face you “Do they not support you?” 

As much as you loved your friends, they were confused as to why you would want to abandon traditional schooling. They constantly doubted your talent, and ultimately thought running away to join F1 was silly. 

“It's complicated” You paused. “They’re happy I’m living my dream right now, but they just don’t understand why it’s my dream.”

Max couldn’t help but chuckle, causing you to sit up. “Sorry, it’s not funny, just a little something I didn’t think you’d be able to relate to.” 

While you didn’t know much about the Verstappen family,not that you tried to know anything, you were aware that Jos was a former Formula One driver. You were clueless about his record, or if he even won a race, but you deduced he wasn’t a World Champion. 

Before you could ask what he meant, Max spoke again “I do think you belong here though” 

Your voice was barely a whisper as you asked “You do?” 

He nodded, placing his hand on your shoulder, “Yeah, I do. I’ve uh… seen a few of your photos on the Ferrari socials and I think they’re incredible.” 

“Really?” You asked, your eyes meeting his 

Max nodded “Really. The way you captured the fight between Charles and I today was insane.” 

“Thank you, Max. It’s just hard when there’s so many other talented and more experienced photographers all around.” 

His hand moved from your shoulder down to your hip, pulling you ever so slightly closer to him. “If you weren’t this good at photography, you wouldn’t be here. F1 is for the best of the best, regardless of the job” 

A smile crept on your lips as you took in Max’s words. Once again, he was right. If you weren’t a great photographer, you wouldn’t have the job you do. A soft “thank you” escaped your lips before a yawn shortly followed. 

“Come on, let’s get you to bed”

Monte Carlo, Monaco

Since that night in Miami, Max had been friendly.

The two of you had exchanged numbers in Spain, just in case you had another onset. Though you hadn’t felt the need to reach out, Max made sure you were comfortable in the paddock.

Whenever he saw you, he would go out of his way to say hi and catch up. Even if he was preoccupied and couldn’t say anything to you, he would make sure that he gave you a wave. You found him walking down pit lane more than usual, his eyes usually dancing around the Ferrari garages, as if he was looking for something, or rather someone. 

And when he did find you in the garage, you knew you were in for at least a thirty minute conversation. Topics ranged from his cats to any recent artworks you’ve done. Max insisted that it was because the two of you were “garage neighbors” and he wanted to make you feel welcome in the paddock. Just two childhood enemies slowly getting to know each other. Nothing more, nothing less. Though as the days in the paddock wore on, you found yourself looking forward to the interactions with Max. His visits were one of the only constants in the craziness of a race weekend. 

“What was that all about?” Charles asked as he watched Max leave his garage for the third time that day. 

“Oh nothing,” You answered, a small smile forming on your lips as you grabbed your camera from the table it had been sitting on “Just Max Veryappen doing his thing.”

Charles laughed, allowing you to snap a beautiful photo of the Monegasque. “He’s started ranting to you too? Good luck soldier” 

As you worked more with Charles, the more you found that you were alike. Both of you had an appreciation for the arts, and now were the victims to what the fans called “maxplaining”. 

“It’s not that bad” You replied, crouching down to get a good angle of Charles’ car. “He’s a nice guy.” 

The only sounds came from the clanking of metal in Carlos’ garage next door and the clicks of your camera. The silence was comfortable, both you and Charles knowing there was no bad blood about either of you choosing not to talk. 

“Waaiiit a second” Charles started, the wheels in his head turning slowly. “I thought you and Max hated each other as kids. How did you get to this?” 

A groan escaped your mouth, a result of the question and your knees flaring up as you stood up. “I was hoping you wouldn’t ask” 

You recounted the events of that night in Miami, excluding your bout of imposter syndrome, playing it off as you being “out of it”. Charles listened intently as you told your story, a smirk forming on his lips as you finished. 

“So let me get this straight: Max willingly left the club early to walk you back to your hotel?” He asked 

“Yeah, that sums it up” You shrugged 

“And now he’s being all friendly and yapping your ears off multiple times a day?” He asked 

“Yes” You answered “Charles what are you getting at?” 

“He totally likes you” He said, his smirk from earlier now turning into a full blown grin

“What? Ew. No.” You physically had to take a step back from the driver, as if he was Max. “Max is just a friend.” 

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that” Charles spoke as he left the garage, knowing he was running late for a meeting

======

The race could not have been worse if you tried. From a front row lockout being torn away by multiple delays - including a red flag - and poor strategy decisions, the best Charles could do was fourth.

Rainwater sloshed in your shoes as you climbed the stairs to the paddock club. Fans were huddled inside to escape the rain during the third delay of the day. Any attempts to capture photos were futile as your camera lens was littered with raindrops. 

“I just know both of them are fuming down there,” Annalese said as you joined her on the balcony that overlooked pit lane. The two of you watched both Ferrari cars pull into their garages as the red flag waved. 

“Oh my god yeah, this was not how Charles was expecting his home race to go.” You replied, finally choosing to cap your lens

“The poor guy can’t catch a break,” She agreed

“And I know for a fact Max is down there throwing a fit. He always does when something doesn’t go his way.” You laughed motioning to the Red Bull garage. The image of  the driver complaining about the weather or claiming that Mick can’t drive caused you to shake your head. 

“Speaking of Max, what’s he been doing lurking around Ferrari?” Annalese asked

“Did Charles tell you to ask me about this? He was on my ass yesterday,” You joked “But it’s nothing. Max and I have just become friends. That’s all” 

“Oh really?” She asked, wiggling her eyebrows 

“Will you stop?” You replied, a smile on your lips as you playfully flicked your boss’ arm. “There is nothing going on. I promise” 

“Well if there is, you better be the first one to tell me” She said, poking your side 

You quickly swatted her finger away, “You’ll be the first one to know.” 

While you didn’t get the chance to make it to the podium celebration, Max made it his mission to see you after the race. After scoping out the garage next door, he found you leaving the Ferrari motorhome, prepping to go back to the hotel for the night. 

“Hey y/n,” He said as you walked out into the night 

Your ears perked up as the sound of your name and your eyes landed on the Red Bull driver that stood at the bottom of the stairs.“Oh hey Max. Congrats on the podium” 

“Thanks” He said, a grin forming “It was a shitty race, but somehow managed a Red Bull double podium. How’s Charles been?” 

It was no secret that the Monegasque was always hard on himself, especially when driving through the grandstands he saw built every year as a kid. Just like any other driver, he wanted to win, and when a win slips from his grasp, he takes it personally.

“He’s uh, okay” You said, the memory of you consoling the driver replaying in your mind. “You probably know how he is better than anyone”

“He’s a tough kid, I’m sure he’ll be fine” Max assured you 

Relief washed over you when you realized he was heading the same way you were. The two of you made your way through the empty paddock, as most of the workers had left hours ago. Times like this made you thankful for street races, as your hotel was only a few blocks away. 

“Are you going out to celebrate tonight? I overheard Carlos saying he was going to Jimmy’z” You said 

Max shook his head “After how long today took? No. I’m going home and spending some time with my cats. What about you? Are you joining the team?”

“After what happened in Miami? No.” You laughed, though Max knew it wasn’t a joke. “I have a nice date with my bed, room service, and some shitty romcom” 

“Oh how romantic” Max joked, though secretly thanking the heavens you had no other plans. As he got to know you over the past few races, he found himself wanting to spend more and more time with you. 

“Shut it Verstappen.” Daggers shot from your gaze as you spoke, though you still had a smile on your lips “It’s not like I have anything else to do” 

A strange feeling curdled in Max’s stomach as he processed your words. 

“Come with me then.” Max blurted out without thinking, causing your head to snap towards him, surprise in your eyes. You weren’t sure if you heard him right. There was no way Max Verstappen invited you over to his place. 

“I’m sure Jimmy and Sassy would love to meet you. We can order takeout and watch your romcoms or whatever” Max continued, his eyes softening.

“Come with you?” You asked, taken back by his hospitality

“Yeah, you can meet the cats and show me the photos you took today,” Max said, motioning to the camera bag that was slung over your shoulder

“If you insist, though I don’t have any photos of you if that’s what you’re looking for” You said as you shook your head

“Fine by me” Max said as he led you off the smooth pavement of the paddock to the bumpy cobblestone streets of Monte Carlo.

Spielberg, Austria

The Red Bull Ring was scary. 

The second you entered the paddock, the feeling of a target being painted on your back lingered. Not that you did anything to deserve the feeling, the bright red of your shirt was enough to prompt the remarks. 

Somehow, it could have been worse. The words thrown at you were nothing compared to what Charles and Carlos had to endure. Mentions of their families, friends, and other loved ones filled your ears as you followed the duo down the paddock and into the Ferrari hospitality. 

“God that was brutal” Carlos said once the doors were fully closed 

“Are you guys okay?” You asked, your eyes darting back and forth between them. Normally the yelling you heard when clocking in for work were terms of endearment, not hoping for their downfall.

Charles ran his fingers through his hair as he sighed “Yeah, Austria is always tough with the fans. It’s nothing new” 

“Gotcha. I’m here if you need anything” You said, though your eyes darted to the doors the three of you just walked through. “Except now. I gotta go run to the garage” 

You could hear the two teammates laugh as you exited the building, finding yourself back in the thick of the commotion. Once out of the heat of the “fans”, you found a quiet spot off to the side of the Ferrari motorhome and took out a pad of paper from your bag. 

It wasn’t a complete lie that you had to go to the pits - there were always photos to be taken no matter what time of day. But you had a slightly different task that you wanted to accomplish before getting yelled at by the mechanics for getting in their way. 

Ferrari had announced that they would be doing a special livery for the Italian Grand Prix this year. While it wasn’t uncommon for the team to slightly deviate from the solid red paint for their home race, it was special that they made it a contest. All employees were allowed to submit an entry, and the best one would be brought to life on the car. 

So, on your notepad you sketched out the shape of the Formula One car, practically by memory. You had tried a few different ideas since the contest was announced, ranging from the Italian flag to all black, but none of them ever seemed just right. 

You scribbled away at a new concept, choosing to play into the yellow and touches of green in the Ferrari logo. With every stroke of the colored pencil, you would move your head back to take a look at your work. And with every stroke, you hated the livery design more and more. It didn’t help that it looked less and less like a Ferrari car and more and more like Senna’s helmet. 

It eventually got to the point where the design was so outlandish, you wanted it in the trash. Crumpling up the paper, you aimed for the waste bin a few feet away, only for it to hop off the rim and land on the pavement. 

A groan escaped your lips as you realized your error in judgment. Before you could stand up to take care of the litter, a pair of dark blue and white shoes stood next to it. 

“Need some help?” A lisp asked. Sure enough, Max stood next to the trash can, bending over to pick up the crumpled paper. “Are you trying to pick up basketball as a hobby now too?” 

You rolled your eyes as a playful smile formed on your lips. “No, Max. I was just trying to throw something away” 

He refused to acknowledge why, but there was something about the way you said his name that made his head fog up. It was like the feeling he got back in Monaco, but still something he had never fully understood. Shaking his head to clear his mind, he spoke. 

“What’re you even getting rid of anyway?” Max asked

“It’s nothing - it’s just - don’t worry about it” You stuttered out in futile attempts

He had already unraveled the crumpled paper, causing a warmth to rush to your cheeks. You were never one to share your artwork with anyone unless you were one hundred percent proud of it. But there you were, hopelessly sitting on a concrete curb as Max took in the monstrosity that was your doodle. 

Max thought the artwork was truly something out of a gallery. The way the green and yellow flowed together while still popping individually amazed him. 

“Is this a special livery?” He finally asked after what felt like years of silence

“It’s just a mock up” You quickly dismissed. “Ferrari is doing a contest for its workers for a special livery for Monza”

“I think it’s really cool” He said, his eyes not leaving the page. No one other than your art teachers growing up had looked at your work with such intensity. 

“Really?” You asked, shocked that someone would even like it. Max finally tore his gaze from the piece of paper to your eyes. When he did, you swore your heart skipped a beat. Blaming it on the nerves of someone unexpectedly viewing your art, you pushed the thoughts away. “I don’t think it’s bad, it just isn’t my style”

“If your style is the same from childhood, then no, it’s not” Max agreed “But I do think it’s good.” 

“Thank you” You managed to peep out. Receiving compliments about your work was never one of your strong suits, though the night in Max’s apartment seemed to help. As you flipped through the photos on your camera that night, he would praise every single one. You had convinced yourself he had done it just to be nice.

“You still do graffiti, right?” Max asked, taking a seat next to you on the curb 

“Yeah, but nowhere near as much as I used to,” You admitted. As much as you loved sneaking around the town in your teens, you were too old to risk getting caught and put behind bars. 

“Why don’t you try doing something with that?” He suggested “It would definitely catch the eyes of the higher ups” 

The thought of going back to your graffiti roots intrigued you. You weren’t sure how you were going to get street art onto a racing car, but it was a challenge you were willing to tackle. 

“Honestly, that’s not a bad idea, thank you” You said, standing up “Now I gotta go actually do my job, but I’ll definitely keep you updated.”

As you started to walk away, Max remembered why he sought out to find you in the first place. 

“Y/n, wait” He called 

You turned around to see Max quickening his pace to catch up to you. “What’s up?” 

“I uh, wanted to apologize” He said, slightly catching his breath “For the fans. I know they can be a lot sometimes” 

“I appreciate it. But I know it’s out of your control. Every fanbase is going to have the handful that takes it too far.” You replied. It was definitely tough being on the receiving end of it all, but you knew it was out of love for the driver. 

A smile formed on Max’s face, thankful that you understood. “I’m planning on making a statement by the end of the day. I know it’s taken a toll on a lot of the drivers and their teams” 

“Thank you Max. You’re doing the right thing” 

======

As the weekend went on, the comments from the crowd lessened. Max had posted a statement after practice, just as he said he would, and it seemed to work. 

What didn’t lessen though was the mushy feeling Max got whenever he saw you. 

He couldn’t describe it exactly. It’s like he wanted to be with you more, regardless of how much time you two spent together. His mind kept replaying the night he invited you over in Monaco. 

The way Jimmy rubbed up against your legs the second you walked in the door while Sassy observed you from afar, warming up to you only an hour later. The way your face lit up when Max asked to see the photos that you took from the race, even if they were all of Charles, Ferrari, and the cars in the pouring rain. 

And the way you explained the thought process behind each photo? Max could have listened to that for hours. He didn’t know a damn thing about lighting or the rule of thirds, but he was going to learn if it meant he could hear your voice. 

Max didn’t know what to call it. The funny feeling that made his stomach bubble up to his throat. He could tell it was the same feeling that clouded his mind, making everything just a little bit foggy when you were around, but also clear as daylight at the same time. 

Charles, however, knew exactly what to call it. When he saw Max first start poking around near the Ferrari garages just a little too often, he knew something was up. So, he decided to do what he does best, and pry. Fortunately, Max had left a can of his favorite drink in the Ferrari pit, giving Charles the perfect excuse.

“Hey, uh I think you left your Red Bull in my garage” Charles said as he walked down towards Max’s

“What? Oh, thanks. I was looking for it” Max said, taking the can before cracking it open

Charles leaned up against one of the support beams, fighting the urge to smirk “What were you even doing there anyway?”

Max shook his head, dismissing the question “Nothing, just catching up with some people” 

“Some people? You mean y/n?” Charles asked 

“Yeah, I mean, she’s a person too, isn’t she?” Max countered, confused why his friend was pressing him

“We both know she’s not just a person. Whenever she’s even remotely nearby, you’re right behind her like a lost puppy” 

“I do not” Max protested, knowing it was in vain

“So what are you going to do about it?” Charles asked 

“Do about what?” Max countered, refusing to fall victim to what Charles was trying to do

“Do about your feelings towards y/n” Charles replied. 

Before Max could think of a reason as to why he wouldn’t have any feelings towards you, his phone went off. 

DING!

Max first ignored it, thinking it was something from the team, and turned his attention back to Charles. 

“I don’t have feelings for -“

DING! DING! 

Two more notifications came through, prompting the Dutchman to pick up his phone. When he did, his heart stopped. 

You: Max 

You: I did it 

You: I think I created the perfect livery

======

You couldn’t find Charles anywhere, no matter where you looked. Hospitality? Nope. The garage? Not there. His driver’s room? Empty. Pierre’s garage? You honestly don’t even know why you checked there. 

As you couldn’t find the one singular person you needed to do your job, you took the opportunity to draw. You found a secluded area in the Ferrari hospitality to get to work. 

Instead of the bright yellow and green you chose earlier, this time you opted for the standard red, black and white. Your colored pencils moved freely across the sketch of the car, you didn’t need to think where to go. Your body just knew. 

Even though you didn’t have your hands on a can of spray paint, it felt right to get back into the thick of it. As much as you hated to admit it, you had to thank Max for the idea. You loved graffiti, but you didn’t think it would fit a Formula One car. But there you sat, finally looking at a livery concept that you were proud to have made. 

Your eyes drifted to your phone that was sitting only a few inches away from the paper. The memory of Max practically demanding to put his number in your phone after the whole Miami incident replayed in your mind. Should you? You two were now friends, right? It’s not weird for friends to text each other, right? The questions made your head hurt. Why were you getting nervous about texting your friend about an idea he came up with? 

Somehow, you shook the doubts of him making fun of you from your mind, and picked up the phone, sending your message. 

As you set your phone down, you couldn’t help but reminisce about that night in Monaco. Max welcomed you with open arms to his apartment, sharing a part of his life you never thought you’d get to see. You admired the way he cared for both of his cats, the two of them were his world, pampering them whenever he got the chance. And the way he listened to you ramble on about your silly little photos, knowing damn well he didn’t give a shit about your camera settings or how to get the best angle on track. 

It was nice to have someone to talk to outside of racing. As much as you loved the sport, it was hard that it took over your entire life. Any time your family called, all you could talk about was the most recent race, or where you’re traveling to next. Being able to talk to Max about something as simple as your photos was almost comforting. 

DING!

Your head snapped to your phone, and sure enough, he had responded. 

Max: Great! Can’t wait to see it :)

======

Once again, the race led to a battle for first between Charles and Max. You knew both of the guys did this for a living, but you were still amazed how effortless they were as they fought for the top step of the podium. While you didn’t know what problems Max was facing in the car, you knew through the many radio complaints that Charles was struggling with his. 

Even with the problems, the Monegasque managed to come out on top. You got to Parc ferme in the nick of time to get into position as Charles pulled into the center spot. Max pulled in on the left, and Hamilton on the right. 

The click of your camera was measly compared to the roars echoing behind you from the team as Charles stepped onto the car, fist in the air in celebration. You followed him, snapping a few photos as he hopped to the ground and ran to the engineers. From the way they embraced the driver, you would have thought it was his first ever win. It was a hard fought race, and Charles deserved every moment of euphoria. 

Before you knew it, Charles had gone to the stand where his hat and water were. The helmet and balaclava were soon off, as he replaced it with his cap. You snapped a few photos as you knew someone from the socials team would post it for the girlies. Backing up to get a better shot, you felt your body press up against someone. 

“I am so sorry” You said, turning around. That someone happened to be Max. He was sweaty, his face beat red and hair all messed up, but somehow he never looked better. The thought of taking his photo then and there crossed your mind, but you refrained as you felt a warmth on your cheeks. “Congrats on P2” 

“Thanks” He replied, slowly finding his breathing

“Now get over there with your boyfriends” You joked as you pointed to Charles and Lewis who were already in conversation about the race. 

The Dutchman made his way over to the other drivers, and you snapped photos as he congratulated Charles on the win. You couldn’t hear what was said between the two of them, but they glanced at you before Charles broke out in laughter as Max’s face turned even more red than before. 

A smile formed on your lips as you looked through your viewfinder and focused on the two boys. Parc ferme and podium were always your favorite part of the race, as the pure joy from the driver’s accomplishments always seemed to radiate through your photos. 

You were able to squeeze yourself into the perfect spot front and center for the ceremony. Though the barrier dug into your side, it was a small price to pay for the photos you got. 

A few photos were snapped of Lewis when he walked out to ensure that your settings were just right, but as Max was announced, you couldn’t help but put your camera down and watch. His piercing blue eyes scanned the crowd for something, focusing when he finally found you. 

He didn’t know why he was searching for you, it just felt right. 

Maranello, Italy

The plan was to spend summer break back in the Netherlands. 

But that was all before you got the call that your design had been chosen for the Monza livery. 

Now, your break was spent in the factory in Maranello, painting the livery yourself. The livery designers figured it would be easier for you to do the work yourself, rather than fall flat on their attempts to replicate the art.

You didn’t mind it at all. In fact, you were ecstatic that you were able to paint the car yourself. It had been a while since you had a can of spray paint in your hand, and you were itching to graffiti again. 

The downside to constantly being in the factory though was that it was mostly just you. While the engineers popped in occasionally to say hi and see what you were up to, none of them were people you were super close with. 

Annalese and a few of the girls from the social team stopped in before you even touched the car, hoping for a promotional opportunity. They had bought you a white tarp that you spray painted the Ferrari logo on, hanging it on the wall. 

With the graffiti in the background, you snapped photos of spray paint cans littered around the blank bodywork, and the social team took no time posting it on all of their accounts. 

When their job was done, they left, eager to enjoy their summer break. Turning around, you were faced with the daunting task at hand: painting two Formula one cars that were going to be out on the track in a matter of weeks. 

The bodywork in front of you seemed to come to life, as the engine intake hole glared at you. It was as if the car was daring you to try to touch it. What were you doing about to paint a racing car? You weren’t qualified for this, not too long ago your canvases were literal brick walls. 

The temptation to call Annalese and make up some lie about why you couldn’t do the livery anymore grew. You picked up your phone, ready to make the call, only to find a text. 

It wasn’t unusual. Ever since you texted about the livery, the two of you were in almost constant communication. Whether it was racing, the cats, or what movies you had been watching, you guys always had something to say. But as it turns out, you seemed to forget to tell Max a small piece of information. 

Max: Y/n Y/l/n. 

Max: What is this? 

Attached to the text was a screenshot of the post that Ferrari had made, teasing about the livery.

Max: Tell me this means what I think it means 

You were tempted to mess with him and lie. Say that you had no idea what the post was about and someone else won the contest. He would definitely see right through you, so your fingers hovered over the “call” button, pressing it before you could think twice. 

Max thought he was dreaming. It started with seeing the familiar Ferrari logo graffitied on a bed sheet. Now, after a series of texts, your contact is the one trying to call him. He let a few rings go by to collect himself before clearing his throat and answering.

“Hello?” He asked, praying that the pounding of his heartbeat wasn’t heard from the other end

“Surprise?!” You replied, your voice showing the small smile on your face

Max sat up in his sim chair, his attention fully focused on you “So you did it? You won?” 

“Yeah, I’m in the factory right now about to start” You said, the pit in your stomach growing again

“That’s exciting! How’re you feeling?” Max asked 

A sigh escaped your lips, just audible enough for him to hear over the phone. “Nervous. I don’t wanna fuck it up.” 

“You’ll be fine” He said

“But what if I mess up” 

“You won’t.” He reassured. He knew you were a natural when it came to art. No matter the canvas, you’d make it work. “Treat it as if it were a wall or ramp. Something you’re used to spray painting.” 

“Okay” You said, your voice now down to a whisper. Silence overcame the two of you as you debated what to do next. The bodywork in front of you was still intimidating, but having Max on the other end of the line seemed to help a little. “Do you think you could stay on the call while I start? Just for a little confidence boost?”

“I wouldn’t want to do anything else” Max said, his smile even wider than before.

Both of your hearts were pounding out of your chests, nerves swarming your systems for very different reasons. Out of all the people in the world, you had picked Max to calm yourself. Something neither of you would have imagined twelve years ago. Through the speaker, Max could hear the sound of a can rattle, then the spray of its contents. Then, silence. 

“It’s started” You finally spoke

======

As summer break wore on and you spent more time on the livery, the calls with Max became more frequent. It all started with just wanting someone to talk to so you weren’t completely alone with your thoughts, but it quickly grew to you wanting to specifically talk to Max, learn about his day and everything going on in your life. In short, his voice quickly became your favorite sound. 

And Max wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. He always loved talking to you. So much in fact, he gave you a specific ringtone so he could ignore all of the other notifications that rolled in. 

Every time the two of you called, staying up way later than either of you would have liked, the warm fuzzy feeling Max got intensified. Maybe Charles was right. Maybe he did have something for you, though he wouldn’t dare acknowledge it by its full legal name. 

Little did he know, on the other end of the line, the same thoughts were racing through your head. He was your comfort as you navigated through the challenge of painting the cars. He was the face you always looked for when you ran around the paddock. He was the person you wanted to be with. 

Twelve year old you would have thought you were crazy if you told her you were crushing on Max Verstappen. He was a bully, a pain in your butt, the worst person you knew. But as a twelve year old you didn’t know that people change. You had, and so did Max. He grew into someone you admire. 

The Netherlands

As much as you loved being in Italy, you were glad to finally have a few days visiting your family in the Netherlands. The Belgian and Dutch Grand Prixs were back to back, and both were close enough for you to spend the two weeks in your childhood home. 

The biggest perk to being home had to be the family dinners. You missed the hearty home cooked stick to your ribs dinners that your mother made, and the memories that were created around the dinner table. Of course, the conversation was never dull either. Tonight’s topic? A certain Dutchman. 

“So, have you seen Max at all at work?” Your mother asked. She was aware of your childhood rivalry with him, but you failed to update her on any of the recent developments. Your mother was convinced the two of you would eventually become close, and you were scared she would blow it out of proportion.

Picking at your food on your plate, you answered “Uh yeah, actually. We’ve seen each other a lot. He’s become a really good friend” 

Your mother’s eyes lit up as your words hit her ears . “Oh really? I’m so glad. You know I always thought the two of you were meant for each other-”

“I know, mama. You reminded me almost everyday” You said, half joking

“You know he’s in town, right?” Your father asked “I saw Jos earlier today and he mentioned he was visiting family for the week. Same thing you are.” 

As you registered what your father said, your head snapped up from your plate. “Really? He’s here?” 

“Why are you so excited? Do you have a crushhhh?” Your little sister teased

“What? No” You lied, silently praying you were convincing enough “I’m just surprised he didn’t mention that he’d be home. That’s all.” 

The dishes were done at a lightning speed. As your family was settling in the living room for their nightly routine of watching cringey game shows, you darted up to your room, grabbing your phone that rested on the bed. After a few rings, Max’s voice filled your room. 

“Hello?” 

“You didn’t tell me you were going to be home” You said, completely disregarding his greeting 

“You’re home too?” He asked

Before you knew it, you made plans to meet Max at the local ice cream shop. He had already gotten you a double scoop of your favorite flavor, something he had learned from the countless conversations you had. For once he wasn’t wearing any sort of Red Bull merch, and you couldn’t help but stare as you greeted him.

“Hey stranger” You said as you approached the table Max was at 

“Long time no see” He replied, handing you your bowl. “How’s everything?” 

“Good! I was able to finish the liveries before the end of summer break. As fun as it was, I’m glad it’s off my chest” You admitted 

“You take any photos of it?” He asked. It was a question you had heard countless times from him. Almost every single time you talked, he begged for a reveal of your artwork, and everytime you turned him down. It frustrated him to no end that you wouldn’t share, but you insisted that it needed to be a surprise for everyone not associated with Ferrari.

“Yes I did Max,” You answered, his face lighting up “No, you can’t see them” 

The smile on his face dropped a frown as he registered what you said “Why not?” 

“Because it’s classified information. If you wanted to see what it looks like early, you should’ve joined Ferrari” 

As the night drew on, the air got colder, prompting the two of you to go back to your childhood home. Your family greeted Max as if he was one of their own before you made your way up to your bedroom. 

The room Max walked into was honestly everything he had pictured it would be. Photographs and artwork that he presumed were yours covered the walls as an easel along with plenty of paint supplies tucked in the corner. 

“Sorry if it’s a bit crazy. I actually haven’t been in here much since I moved to Italy.” You said as you followed him into your room. 

“You don’t need to apologize. I like it” He said as his eyes took in everything

“Thanks. Make yourself comfy” 

Max didn’t waste any time as he plopped himself on your bed. You followed suit, placing yourself next to him, with just enough space in between you two. Every urge to rest up against him was fought, as he was doing the same. 

“If you had told me when we were kids that I’d be spending time in your childhood house, much less your room, I think I woulda puked” Max laughed as he ran his fingers through his hair. “We’ve come a long way since then”

You chuckled as you spoke “You’re telling me. I never thought I’d be excited that Max Verstappen came back to town.” 

“Funny how life works. Maybe we need to go to the old skatepark to see if your artwork is still there” He said 

“Maybe,” You paused as you looked at the framed photo of the Pac Man ghosts that hung on your wall. “Thank you, by the way.” 

Max’s eyebrows furrowed as he turned to face you. “For what?” 

“For not calling the cops that one night when I was spray painting. If I was caught, I definitely would’ve gotten arrested” You admitted 

He knew you were right. If he had made the phone call instead of continuing on his run all those years ago, things would be different. Much different. 

“It’s nothing, really. You were just trying to express yourself. It’s not like you killed someone” Max finally said 

“True. Anyway, how’s being home been?” You asked, trying to think of anything to change the topic

“Pretty good. I’ve been mostly spending time with my mama. I rarely get to see her during the season, but she’s always been one of my biggest supporters.” He said, a soft smile playing on his lips

“What about your father? I feel like I see him at almost every race.” You said.

The second you finished the question, you wanted to stuff the words back in your mouth, swallow them, and pretend you hadn't said anything. Max’s eyes glossed over at the mention of his father as you cursed yourself for ever bringing him up. 

Cautiously, you placed your hand on top of his. Playful flicks and friendly hugs were common between you two, but you weren’t sure how he’d react to touching your hand, “I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to. If you don’t want to talk about it-”

“I don’t see him much outside of racing” Max said as he flipped his hand over to take yours. His calloused fingers brushed against the softness of yours. “He just really cares about the on track stuff.” 

You didn’t dare say anything, if you knew anything about learning the deeper parts of someone, it was to let people share when they’re ready. Your eyes lifted from looking at your hand being intertwined with Max’s, up to his face. His gaze was already focused on you. 

“It’s been tough.” He admitted “Living out my father’s dream. Having all of this pressure on me to perform well and exceed expectations. I just wanted to have fun racing around a track.” 

If there was anything else you knew about letting people share, it’s that you needed an out when they got a little too deep. From the way you spiraled yourself, you could tell Max was on the cliff edge, moments away from diving in. 

“I think you have” You spoke softly

“What do you mean?” Max asked, causing him to snap out of his dive at least temporarily 

“Let me show you” You said getting up from your spot on the bed. It stung a little as you dropped Max’s hand, but it would be worth it in a moment. 

You couldn’t find it at first. Max watched as your eyes darted around the room, searching for something. After a few seconds, the object became clear as day, though in front of it was your old red point and shoot camera. Moving the camera, you grabbed the old photo book that rested behind and returned to your spot next to Max.  

Max watched intently as you flipped through the book. Childhood memories were immortalized in the photos in front of him. What your old childhood photos had to do with him enjoying racing, he had no idea. 

Until you found the photo. 

“Is that me?” He asked. A young boy in a race suit with his hands in the air stared back at Max. There was a glimmer in the kid’s eyes that could be seen through the helmet on his head. The memory of Max getting mad at you for taking the photo was foggy in his mind, but the photo in front of him negated any doubt of it happening. 

“Yeah, it was the first time I took photos of racing” You admitted “I think we were both like twelve” 

He tore his eyes from the old photo of him back to you. “You kept it all these years?” 

You nodded as you took the photo out of its protective sleeve and gave it to Max. “It’s one of my favorite photos, but I want you to have it. I think you need it more than I do.” 

Max couldn’t believe what was happening as his heart was on the verge of exploding. Your favorite photo, which happened to be of him, was being gifted to him. The woman who dare he say has a crush on, kept a photo of him for the past twelve years. 

“Thank you” was all he managed to whisper

“Of course Max” You replied, taking his hand again

Zandvoort, The Netherlands 

Getting to the podium was all you wanted for the weekend. 

Regardless of who was on it or what national anthem was being played, you wanted to be at the podium of your home race. But as life, and your job, would have it, the podium was the last place you were needed. 

It all started with Charles’ team having to replace the entire power unit and gearbox, causing him to start at the back of the grid. He managed to finish in sixth which was big for the team, but still a long way away from being on a step. 

Carlos did make it to the bottom of the podium and after pestering a few of your coworkers, you convinced one of them to swap media duties with you. They covered Charles’ debrief while you took the podium. However, your coworker forgot to tell you he didn’t know how to do a driver debrief, so you were stuck with Charles.

What made it worse was that the winner happened to be the hometown boy. In the distance, you could hear the Dutch national anthem as you were stuck filming Charles’ PR written reasons for why the car was shit. 

Max assumed you were going to be swarmed with the celebrations, as you wouldn’t shut up about how much you wanted to be involved with them at your home Grand Prix. He couldn’t find you in parc ferme, assuming you got caught in the foot traffic. But as he took to the top step of the podium, he scanned the crowd, paying extra attention to the Ferrari team, only for you and your camera to be nowhere to be found. 

Both of you trudged through your post race routines, longing for a minute to see each other. As Max worked his way through the media pen, he couldn’t help but hope to get a glimpse of you. You hadn’t replied to his text, and he knew calls were out the window on race weekends. 

The sun had long set by the time the two of you were relieved of your duties. You made your way out of the Ferrari hospitality, eyes sore from staring at your laptop screen editing photos. As you made your way to your car, any sense of exhaustion washed away as you found Max in the parking lot. 

“Congrats” You yelled as you darted to him

Max stopped in his tracks when he heard your voice. Sure enough, as he turned around, you were jogging straight to him, arms wide open. He flung his open just in time to catch your hug. 

“Woah there, thank you” Max said, relieved that you were okay. “What’ve you been up to? I was looking for you all day” 

Max Verstappen had been looking for you all day. Taking a deep breath so your heart wouldn’t jump up out of your throat, you composed yourself and pulled away from him. Genuine concern played in his eyes. 

“I would’ve texted but I got so wrapped up with doing Charles’ post race media and then editing photos.” You sighed “I am so sorry I missed the podium. I truly wanted to see you… and hear the Dutch anthem again.” 

“You don’t need to apologize, hopefully you’ll hear it again before the season ends” He joked “In all seriousness, you’re all good.” 

Max paused, as if he was contemplating something. The sound of cicadas filled the warm summer air as Max debated with himself. After a few moments, he spoke again. 

“If you want to, and only if you want to, you can help celebrate by joining me out at the club tonight. Red Bull is going out to celebrate the win.” He offered 

It was your turn to have an internal argument. Going out with Max and celebrating his much deserved win sounded fun, but lingering in the back of your mind was Miami. 

“Fuck it” You blurted out, startling the driver “I’ll go, but I’m not drinking too much” 

“Deal. Let me know when you’re finished getting ready, and I’ll pick you up from your room.” He said, leading you to your car. 

You had never gotten ready faster in your life. Max was a patient person, but you absolutely hated making anyone wait for you. Sending him a quick text, you did once last look in the mirror. A quick knock was placed on your door, peeling you away from your reflection. 

When the door opened, Max felt his heartbeat slam on the accelerator. The shorts you were wearing were very short and the top didn’t leave much to the imagination. Not that he minded the change, it was just an outfit he didn’t expect you to wear. Outside of the bright red Ferrari polo and khakis, you mostly donned some sort of oversized shirt and sweats. Comfort was usually your top priority. 

The confidence you had when you answered the door wavered as you caught Max staring. “Is it okay? It’s not too much, right?” 

His head snapped up from your body to meet your eyes “No no not at all. You look amazing actually” 

As quickly as your confidence faltered, it grew right back hearing Max’s reassurance. Little did you know he was fighting every bone in his body not to turn you around and make a night out of you and the bed. 

While you had partied with Red Bull in the past, nothing prepared you for the scene in front of you. Bottle service was in full swing as every single team member had a glass of something in their hands. 

Being the reason why the team was celebrating tonight, Max got whisked away from you almost as soon as he walked in the door. Luckily, you spotted a few of the Red Bull photographers and social media team members, giving you a group to go to. You had gotten close to them over the course of the season through media collabs between Ferrari and Red Bull. 

“Y/n!!” Meg yelled as soon as she spotted you. “You look hot!” She embraced you in a hug, as did Jess, Sofi, and Becca when you made your way through the crowd. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” Sofi asked as the two of you pulled away

“Max invited me” You yelled over the boosted bass, “Some of his engineers nabbed him as soon as we got here though” 

“So you finally got the nerves to tell him how you feel?” Jess asked as she handed you a cup

As the drink burned your throat, you quickly pieced together it was a vodka cranberry. “No, I haven’t said anything to him.” The four girls exchanged knowing glances as you continued to sip on your drink. “What?” 

“You mean, he asked you to come celebrate with him even though you have no affiliation with the team, and you haven’t confessed your massive crush on him?” Sofi asked 

“Yes?” You answered, unsure of where she was getting at. 

“He totally likes you” Becca spoke this time

Cheers erupted in the building, and you turned to find Max up on someone’s shoulders. He was double fisting drinks - two gin and tonics most likely - looking like he was on cloud nine. 

“I don’t know” You said, peeling your eyes away from the sight in front of you and back to the girls “I feel like he would have said something, he’s a blunt guy” 

“Yeah with everything except how he feels” Jess said “Just trust us” 

The rest of the night had been a blur. At some point, your group made its way to the dancefloor, taking any and every drink a team member would offer you. The five of you danced with each other, as well as anyone who would even remotely get close. Everything blended together into one foggy echo. 

At some point, a pair of hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to whoever they belonged to. A chorus of drunken giggles filled your ears as the girls in front of you smiled and waved, leaving you alone with the person who was behind you. You couldn’t help but to lean back into the person, as the feeling of calloused and scabbed fingers traced your exposed skin. 

Leaning your head back to get a look at whose hands were on your body, you found Max’s beaming blue eyes staring back at you. Nothing was said between you two as swayed up against his body, knowing exactly where it was rubbing against. 

Stifled moans escaped Max’s lips as you danced against him. He didn’t know how many drinks he had at that point, all he knew was that he needed to be with you. And by the way you melted into his body, you needed him just as badly. He planted a soft kiss on your neck, sending a chill down your spine and his name breathily coming out of your mouth. 

Now Max wasn’t an asshole. He wasn’t going to take you in the state you were in and do anything. That just wasn’t the type of guy he was. But as you rubbed up against him, he wanted nothing more than to drag you to the bathroom. 

The last thing you wanted was the night to end. Max was finally all over you, his hands exploring every inch of your body that he could in public. Drunken kisses were planted on both of your bodies, landing anywhere but each other's lips. But as the music lowered, and the lights in the club slowly started to turn on, it was only a matter of time before the pace shut down. 

“You wanna get out of here?” Max whispered in your ear before placing his lips on your cheek. 

Nodding your head, Max took your arm and led you out into the night. The darkness of the night sky was quickly replaced with yells and camera flashes. 

“Head down” Max instructed, his hands never leaving yours “Can never escape the fucking paps” 

The flashes continued as Max guided you into the taxi. Sighs left both of your mouths once the door finally shut. 

“I am so sorry about that.” Max apologized “Thought I could have one fucking night without them” 

“Maxie,” You began, the nickname you had given him rolling easily off of your tongue. “It isn’t your fault. You don’t need to apologize” 

The two of you tumbled out of the taxi and into the elevator of your hotel. His arm was wrapped around you as you leaned into his side. The tension thick between the two of you, but neither of you dared to move. A ding filled your ears as the elevator landed on your floor. 

“Thank you for the invite, I had a really fun time tonight” You said as Max walked you to your door. 

“Of course, anything to spend time with you.” He said. Just like you, he didn’t want the night to end. Whether it was the amount of liquid courage still in his system or what, he spoke. “Do you wanna spend the night? Only if you want to, of course.” 

You tried not to act like you had been waiting for this moment all night. Your eyes broke from Max to your hotel door, back to Max, as if you were debating your decision. 

“I mean, I guess it is safer to be with someone in case anything happens…” You pondered, even though you were fully aware you were going to say yes. “I’d probably be up all night in my head if I didn’t have anyone to keep me company… Yeah I’ll stay with you” 

Max tried to hide his smile as you accepted his invitation, guiding you only a few doors down. He slid the key card into the slot, easily unlocking the door in his fuzzy state. 

When he offered for you to stay in his room, you weren’t expecting a whole suite. The living room alone was around the size of your entire hotel room. 

“Go to the bathroom and get yourself ready for bed, I’ll slide you some of my clothes to wear” Max said as he motioned to one of the doors - the bathroom you presumed. 

You did as he said, and as you fought to get your makeup off with a ratty wet tissue, Max knocked on the door. As you opened it, he handed you one of his shirts and shorts to sleep in. As you walked out of the bathroom, you made your way to the couch, before getting stopped by Max.

“No, you get the bed. I’ll take the couch” He insisted, gently placing his hand on your back and guiding you to the bedroom. 

Exhaustion from the events prior washed over you as you climbed into the bed, not even bothering to argue with him. You crawled under the covers, getting nice and comfy, as Max watched over for a moment, making sure you were okay. 

The all too familiar warm and fuzzy feeling grew in his stomach, and he knew it wasn’t just the alcohol. All he wanted to do was join you in bed tonight, letting you climb into his arms, but he knew better. The couch was his tonight. Max turned to shut out the light and close the door, but failed to even get there. 

“Max?” You asked, your voice barely audible. At first he thought he was hallucinating, only turning when he heard his name a second time. 

“What’s up, y/n/n?” He wasn’t expecting you to scoot over in the bed, eyes heavy as you pulled the comforter back. You didn’t say a word, only patting the empty spot in bed next to you. 

Part of him knew he shouldn’t. There was a perfectly good couch for him only a few feet away. But he couldn’t say no to you, you were his weakness. Against his judgment, he climbed in the bed, as you snuggled into his arms. 

======

It was early when the sun broke through the curtains, waking you up. It took you a minute to remember where you were and how you ended up in a hotel room that wasn’t yours. Max was still asleep next to you, arms wrapping around you like you were his personal teddy bear. 

You needed to get out of there. And fast. 

Not to say that you didn’t enjoy the events of the evening prior, you definitely did. It was just the thought of being anything more than friends that quickly made your stomach churn, and you were positive it wasn’t from the amount you drank the night before. You were one to take your time when it came to dating and relationships, and whatever was going on between you and Max was moving full throttle. Someone needed to slam on the brakes. It wasn’t going to be Max. 

You managed to lay perfectly still as you took in your situation. Max’s clothes covered your body as yours were probably still in the bathroom across the suite. The gesture was nice at the time, but as the cotton in his shirt mixed with his own body heat, you were suffocating. 

The task at hand felt like something out of a sitcom. Somehow you managed to wiggle your way out of Max’s arms without waking him. It was graceless, yet better than a bull in a china shop. 

But you did it, navigating your way through the suite to the bathroom to find your clothes drunkenly thrown on the floor. You internally chided your past self for the messiness, but changed into the clothes nonetheless. Leaving Max’s outfit from the night before folded on the couch, you slipped out of his hotel suite unnoticed by him. 

Your eyes darted both ways down the halls as you closed the door behind you, thankful that no one was up this early. As you started to walk down the hall to your own room, you heard someone’s throat clear. 

“What were you doing in Max’s room?” 

Turning around, you felt like a deer in headlights as you met Charles’ eyes. He came up to you, clearly just finished getting ready for the day, taking in the sight before him: you in your clothes from last night, makeup probably still half on, and frazzled. An amused smirk formed on Charles’ face. 

“He finally did it, huh?” He asked, crossing his arms 

“I promise it’s not what it looks like” You defended “I swear he just let me stay the night. We did not have sex.” 

The driver muttered a curse under his breath, “Guess I owe Carlos twenty now. Shouldn’t have believed the stupid gossip pages” 

Your eyebrows furrowed as you took in what he said “You follow the gossip pages? And you two were betting on me?” 

“The betting is all in good fun, but yeah, the accounts are very entertaining. You and Max are all over them right now.” 

Charles took out his phone and after a few taps, he flipped it around. On the screen was a carousel of photos featuring you and Max at the club from the night before, ending with a photo of you holding hands. As you read the caption, your heart stopped. 

New WAG Alert! Max Verstappen is officially OFF the market! He was seen last night in a club in Zandvoort with a new mystery lady. Max girlies, how are we feeling about this?

Edit: The mystery girl has been identified as Y/N L/N, a team photographer for Ferrari, and good friends with Charles Leclerc. How are you feeling about romance being added to this rivalry?

“Oh this is bad.” You muttered, taking a step back from the driver. “Charles, this is bad.”

“You’re going to be fine, it's just a silly little rumor. It’ll pass within the week.” He reassured. He was no stranger to the gossip page rumors, but unlike you, Charles was used to the unwanted attention about his love life. 

“I don’t think you understand, I could lose my job. Ferrari is the only thing I have going for me right now!” You panicked, running your hands through your hair, trying to calm yourself 

“Does it state in your contract you can’t have anything with any drivers?” Charles asked 

You paused, trying to think of the day you signed your life away to the team, but you were drawing a blank. “Is it bad I don’t remember?” 

“Exactly! It’s not your problem right now.” Charles said, hanging his arm around your neck “Now let’s go get breakfast while you tell me everything, Mrs. Verstappen”

======

On the other side of the door, Max had woken by the opening and closing of doors in his suite. It took him a moment to piece together what happened, and the night leading up to him being alone in his bed. HIs heartbeat skyrocketed as he wiped the sleep from his eyes. You, happily staying the night in his arms, only to dart out before he could even wake up. What the hell did it all mean? 

Monza, Italy

The Red Bull Ring had been child’s play compared to Monza. While rival drivers didn’t endure the threats like Spielberg, everywhere you looked, Tifosi donned the Ferrari red. Chants supporting Charles and Carlos broke out whenever any of the fans spotted them, making it a place you hoped you would never have to enter wearing another team's gear. 

It didn’t help that everyone in Ferrari was slightly on edge. Carlos and Charles wanted to perform in front of the Tifosi, the engineers wanted to make sure the car was in top shape, and you were worried about the release of the livery that was dropping later that day. 

Even though you were the one who painted the livery, seeing it in the garage was surreal. Your artwork had finally finished coming to life and was on display for everyone to see. 

Being in Monza meant the media duties increased by tenfold. You didn’t mind, as it gave you the opportunity to work more with the team, and an excuse to avoid Max. 

You hadn’t talked to him since that night in Zandvoort. He didn’t bother to reach out, so neither did you. It stung at first, not talking to the one who quickly became a close friend, but as each day passed, everything got a little easier. 

The garage was bustling with engineers and mechanics making sure the cars were in perfect condition for the weekend ahead. You were squeezed in there as you were in charge of filming the drivers’ reaction to the livery. Your stomach twisted as you walked down the hall of the garage, where you met Charles. 

“Hey, are you ready?” You asked 

Charles gave you a quick hug before pulling away “Hey, yeah, it’s just looking at the livery, right?” 

You nodded as your stomach started to churn “Yep. And please be genuine. No hard feelings if you don’t like it” 

“I’m sure I’ll love it. You know I love your work.” He praised. It was genuine, you knew he loved seeing your art just as you loved hearing him play his music. 

“Thank you Charl. Now I’m gonna count down from three, and when I say go, I’m going to start recording. Do the usual intro spiel and then pretty much say how you’re feeling about seeing the new paint.” You briefed him. It wasn’t his first time filming one of these, but you always reminded him how to do it just in case he decided to forget.

“Oh, and you only have one shot to get this right, so you better not fuck it up” You teased as you took the lens off of your camera, sticking it in your pocket. 

“Got it, I’ll be sure to do my worst” Charles joked. As you set up to start recording, panic filled Charles’ face “Wait. Can I practice once?” 

“Yeah, of course” You said

The driver quickly went through his spiel, looking to you for help on the words he couldn’t remember the direct English translation to. When he was confident enough in what he was saying, you angled your camera, ready to record. 

“3… 2… 1… Go” You counted down, starting to walk backwards down the hallway. When you first started doing things like this, you were always scared of tripping over something or hitting the walls. But at this point, you had done the backwards walk so many times that you could do it in your sleep. 

“Hi guys. Charles here. It’s media day here in Monza, and it’s my first look at the special livery for the race. Our photographer Y/N designed and painted it, so if it’s anything like her paintings, it’s going to be amazing. This year is super special for Monza as it is its 100th year of operation. I can’t wait to see what the car looks like” Charles said, causing a small smile to form on your lips.

As you rounded the corner into the garage, through the camera screen you could see Charles’ face light up. He took in the sight in front of him before speaking. 

“Wow. This is incredible” He complimented “Y/n you really outdid yourself with this. I hope you guys enjoy seeing the car as much as I am excited to drive in it. See you next time. Ciao guys” 

You moved yourself to get a view of the car that was in front of its driver. After holding the position for a few seconds, you stopped recording. 

“And done” You said, allowing Charles to turn toward you

“How was that?” He asked. His eyes begged for validation that he didn’t ruin any content being posted. If there was one thing to know about Charles, it’s that he wanted the best for everyone on the team, regardless of their position. 

“You did great” You assured him “I’m glad you like the livery. It means a lot” 

“Of course! I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true” He said as he pulled you into a hug 

Before you could thank him again, the sound of laughter filled your ears. Laughter from a voice you hadn’t heard in a week. You quickly pulled away from Charles as your heart pounded out of your chest. 

“Pretend I’m not here” You instructed the driver before ducking behind a stack of tires in the corner

On the other side of the tires, Max entered the Ferrari garage. He assumed you would be around, as you were normally on media day. But to his surprise, you weren’t one of the many people packed into the terminal. Luckily for him though, Charles was there inspecting his car. 

“Hey mate” Max greeted “The car looks sick.” 

“Yeah it does.” Charles agreed “Y/n did a hell of a good job on the design”

“She did. But uh speaking of y/n, have you seen her anywhere? I haven’t been able to find her” Max asked. There it was. 

A silent prayer left your lips as you waited for Charles’ response. He wasn’t usually one to lie, but hopefully he made an exception for your sake. Otherwise, it would be real fun to explain why you were hiding. 

“Not recently, no. Last I saw of her she was in hospitality doing some editing. Lots of content needing to go out with it being Monza weekend.” Charles answered

“Ah I get it. Thanks anyway” Max replied. The sound of shoes scuffling filled the garage as the two drivers said their goodbyes. 

“He’s gone!” Charles called in the direction of the tire stack

As you crawled out from behind the tires, you released a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. For the third time that day, your arms wrapped around Charles as a chorus of thank you’s left your lips. 

“I genuinely owe you Charl, thank you, thank you, thank you. I don’t think I would have been able to face him.” You said as you finally pulled away from him 

“Yeah, of course. Is everything good between you two?” He asked, his tone filled with concern more than anything else

“I just realized some mistakes that happened last weekend.” You admitted “Meddling with anyone in the workplace just isn’t my thing” 

Even though the confession wasn’t to Max, it still felt good to get some of it off your chest. You should have never let your feelings get involved in work. You knew better than thinking they would mix well. 

======

The free practice sessions came and went, with both of the Ferraris looking strong. So far, you had managed to steer clear of Max. Most of your time being spent in the hospitality suite or trackside, as far away from the Red Bull garage as possible. 

Avoiding Max had given you ample opportunity to perfect your camera settings, as well as your editing presets for Monza. The race was a big task, and you wanted to make sure you delivered. 

But you knew it was only a matter of time before you ran into him. You had been assigned to cover the Fan Stage interview with the Ferrari drivers. As fate would have it, the combined interview with Red Bull and Haas was scheduled right before. 

As you and the Ferrari boys arrived, the four drivers wrapped up their interview and headed off the stage. There were only a handful of people backstage dressed in red, making you stand out like a sore thumb. You tried to blend in with the rest of the media team, but Max spotted you instantly, causing you to drop your head, pretending to look at past photos on your camera. 

As Max’s gaze landed on you, he could feel his thoughts disappear as his mind fogged up. He wanted - no, needed - more of that night in Zandvoort, but the two of you had to talk first. As he slowly made his way to you, his hands grew sweaty and he could feel his heart pound like a ticking time bomb. 

“Y/n! Hey, how’ve you been?” He asked, quickly pushing his nerves aside as he approached you

Your eyes quickly darted to Charles for assistance,  who only gave you a pity look. Some help he was. You shifted your weight, steadying yourself as you finally made eye contact with the man you’ve been avoiding. 

“Hi Max.” You answered

He repeated the question, “How’ve you been?”

You didn’t want to have a conversation with him. Not right now, at least. Not in front of everyone while you were working. If you were going to talk, it had to be in private, off the clock, when you were ready. So, you mustered out an “I’m sorry, I can’t really talk right now. I’m working” As you lifted up your camera, hoping he would get the hint. 

Being a guy, he of course didn’t have a clue on what you were trying to do. “Right. I just wanted to congratulate you on the livery. It looks amazing.” 

Before you could even think of a response, the sound of the host’s voice filled the speakers. “Now the duo you’ve all been waiting for. Tifosi, please welcome Charles Leclerc and Carlos Sainz of Ferrari!” 

The fans erupted as you gave Max a soft smile. “Thanks, but I have to go. I’ll see you around” 

Max watched as you followed the Ferrari boys up the stairs, focused on the camera in your hands. Questions of where he went wrong filled his mind as he tore his gaze away from you and made his way back to Red Bull.

======

While it wasn’t the double podium the team and the Tifosi had hoped for, both drivers made it into the top four, with Charles landing P2. 

You arrived at Parc ferme long before any of the drivers pulled in, giving you ample time to set up. The roar of the crowd sent a shiver down your spine as Charles pulled his car into position. If this was what it was like for him to be second, you couldn’t imagine what it would be like if he reached the top step. 

Hearing the Dutch national anthem was not on your ideal to do list for Monza, but you still trudged through the formalities of the podium. Max’s stare was fixed on you, burning like lasers, but you didn’t dare meet it. There were more important things to be done. 

Suzuka, Japan

Japan was easily the most miserable Grand Prix of the entire season. While the country was beautiful and the fans were amazing, everything in the paddock made it unbearable. The only bright side on the weekend was that your contract got extended for the next two seasons.

Yet again, everyone in the Ferrari garage was stressed, Charles especially. It was the second race that Max could win the Driver’s Championship, only needing to out score Charles by eight points. 

On top of the Driver’s Champion pending to be named, your plan to avoid Max the rest of the season had gone terribly wrong. The dark skies and rain showers didn’t help either. 

It started on media day, when Charles and Max had been put in the same group. Being forced to follow Charles around while being in the same proximity as Max was enough. The boys didn’t help in that they were constantly glued to each other's sides. 

Max nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard about that round’s groups. Being with Charles meant you weren’t too far behind, giving Max the opportunity to test the waters with you again. 

His first goal was to get you to wave. Max and the rest of his group were leaving a press conference, causing you and the other photographers to hurry outside. You were getting ready to snap photos of Charles, but Max was not too far ahead of him. The wave was subtle, you honestly almost missed it, but you replied with a simple head nod. 

That head nod was enough of a greenlight for Max. The next step was to get you to actually talk. 

As the group moved between media areas, Max found you talking to Charles. While from the back of the group he couldn’t tell what you two were talking about, from the way you were laughing with the Monegasque, he knew it wasn’t anything serious. Max’s suspicions were confirmed as he ended up in the middle of the group and discovered the topic of conversation.

“I don’t understand how you don’t think spaghetti is good” Charles said “It’s a classic” 

You laughed, shaking your head “I never said it wasn’t good. I said that I think it’s an okay shape. It just doesn’t hold the sauce as well as cavatappi or penne” 

“You better not say that when we’re back in Italy. They’ll chase you out of the country” Charles joked 

“No shit, Sherlock. Why else do you think we’re talking about it here?” You said, a smile plastered on your lips 

“But do you think cavatappi or penne is better at holding sauce? They both have a tubular shape” Max asked

Your head whipped around to find Max behind you two. Looking at Charles for help, the pity in his eyes only screamed “be nice”.

“Cavatappi” You answered, your words lacking any of the enthusiasm you had before, “The spiral helps keep the sauce in”

Max was oblivious to the silent conversation you and Charles had prior and the change in your tone, but he was sure as hell over the moon that he got you to talk. 

======

As media day pushed on, you were reminded of every reason why you liked Max. From the way he held the door for you to the way he listened to you intently as you gave instructions for a photo. Maybe Charles was right, maybe you needed to be a bit nicer. 

The day was wrapping up, only giving Max a handful of chances to talk to you again. He caught you alone outside of the Ferrari garage in the pit lane. Your attention was on the phone in your hands, most likely at the content from the day. Should he say something? You looked busy, he didn’t want to annoy you even more. Before Max could decide what to do, he heard your voice. 

“Max, hey.” You called as you approached the Red Bull driver

“Oh uh hey” He replied, caught off guard by your sudden friendliness “How’s your day been?” 

“Pretty good, honestly” You answered, your tone much warmer than it was earlier in the day. “Always love media day. There’s always something to do” 

“Yeah, I guess it's nice for you, with the job and all. I always just want to get in the car and drive” He spoke 

Max continued to listen as you told him how the season has been from the garage next door, and through the lens. You recounted some of your favorite stories, including the time that you and Charles pranked the PR team into believing he had gotten into an argument with one of the members of the British Royal Family.

Neither of you were sure how long you stood there talking, but you had a feeling it had been a while. The sun had moved slightly in the sky, as people passed the two of you as if you were a road obstacle. 

It wasn’t until the paddock opened up to the fans with pit lane tours that you realized it had been at least an hour. The sound of camera clicks and bright light flashes filled the air as the fans took in the sights of their favorite teams garages. 

“Well, I should probably get back to work. The content doesn’t make itself” You joked “And plus, I’m sure some of the fans would love to meet you” 

“Yeah, I should go say hi” Max agreed “I’ll see you around” 

A silence overcame both of you, trying to figure out what to do. As much as you wanted to wrap your arms around him and wish him well, your gut begged you to walk away. The boundary needed to be set. You listened to your gut, opting for a wave before disappearing into the red painted garage. 

======

The hot tea burned your throat as you took a sip. You were always impatient waiting for the liquid to cool down, to the point that it was a part of your nighttime routine. 

Photo editing was one of the last things you did every night - giving you plenty of time to reflect on your work. Every photo got the same treatment of applying the preset, then adjusting the settings as needed. It was the perfect mind numbing task right before bed. The routine this time was broken up by the sound of your phone going off. 

DING!

One of the silly photos you had taken of Charles popped up on your phone screen, followed by the words “Have you seen this?”

The photo that accompanied the text was a screenshot of the stupid F1 gossip page that Charles was obsessed with. Their most recent post had been a photo of you and Max from earlier. 

Max Verstappen and his alleged girlfriend, Y/N L/N, a Ferrari photographer, were spotted along pit lane earlier today. Fans at the Japanese GP Pit Lane Walk said both of them were in deep conversation, only focused on each other and completely oblivious to the outside world.

You nearly choked on your tea as you read the caption. They weren’t wrong that you had been completely lost in chatting, but they didn’t need to call you out on it. They also didn’t need to continue assuming you and Max were dating. 

A curse left your lips as you thanked Charles for keeping you updated. It pained you to come to terms with, but you couldn’t have Max in your life. He needed to stay just another F1 driver. 

======

The rain egged on as qualifying rolled around. As boots splashed through muddy puddles, you were fortunate enough to be in the garage and along the pit wall. 

Someone was approaching, the squeaks of wet shoes on the epoxy floor getting louder with every step. Annalese found you crouching on the floor of the garage, trying to get some aesthetic photo of the tires. 

“Hiding in the tire stacks again?” She asked 

Standing up from your squat, you turned to your boss, “Charles told you about that?” 

“Yeah, honestly it was kind of funny” Annalese chuckled 

Your jaw dropped. Your coworker was a blabber mouth. “That’s ridiculous. I can’t believe him.” 

“You better. He’s a total gossip” She said, taking a pause before speaking again “But that’s it? You and Max are done?” 

“You can’t be done with something that never even started” You retorted “It was a fun one off thing, but I can’t have some driver messing with my work.” 

======

Somehow, the rain turned into a torrential downpour come race time. The red rain jacket on your back was soaked from the short sprint between Ferrari’s hospitality and the garage. A shiver crept down your spine as the cold droplets fell on the limited exposed skin

“I cannot believe they’re racing in this shit” You muttered as you entered the packed garage. ‘

Mechanics and engineers alike were huddled for warmth around the TV for the race start. You opted to stay in the garage and photograph their raw reactions instead of risking damaging your camera. 

When two o’clock hit, it was lights out and under a yellow flag, the cars took off. You were so used to the high speeds that you couldn’t help but chuckle seeing the cars practically crawl. 

The chuckle quickly silenced as a Ferrari car crashed into the boards. All eyes were on the screen as everyone was trying to figure out which of the cars it was. Seconds felt like hours before the team announced it was Carlos that had crashed, leading to a slight sigh of relief. Charles was still in the fight. 

Fortunately Carlos was okay, but he wasn’t the only one who had starting errors. Albon and Magnussen had connected, and it appeared Vettel had some damage as well. Just as quickly as the race began, a red flag led to its delay. 

You watched as the cars pulled into pit lane, giving you the opportunity to snap photos at an angle you wouldn’t normally get. 

After multiple failed restarts later, the race had resumed. A little over thirty minutes were left in the three hour time limit, meaning every single second mattered for the Driver’s Championship. 

Max was the first one to cross the finish line, with Charles not too far behind. Max hadn’t won the championship, at least yet. 

You emerged from the cave (otherwise known as the garage) for the first time all race to be at Parc ferme. Max’s eyes lit up the second he saw you, but you were too focused on Charles to even notice. 

Like usual, the post race interviews were zoned out. Once you've heard someone talk about why they could or couldn’t drive properly, you don't need to hear it again. That is until Charles’ five second penalty was announced. 

Cheers broke out on the Red Bull side of Parc ferme, while the Ferrari staff exchanged glances. There was no possible way that Max Verstappen won his second championship over a simple penalty. But there he was, celebrating with his team. 

As he was engulfed by his engineers and mechanics, he couldn’t help but to wonder what it would be like to have you on that side of the barrier, celebrating with him. 

The formalities of the interviews wrapped up, letting you turn to the rest of the Ferrari team. Somber looks filled their faces, and as much as you hated to do it, the scene did paint a pretty photo. 

“So that’s it? It all came down to a penalty?” You asked once you removed the camera from your face 

“It all depends on if the FIA chooses to give full points or not for the race” One of the engineers responded 

Time stood still as everyone on every team waited for the stewards’ final decision. There was a silence in the air that you had never experienced before, as if everyone was holding their breath. 

The TV screen changed from an early played graphic of the potential Driver’s Champion, to live footage of the Driver’s cool down room. 

“Max you have to” A lady off screen must’ve motioned to the room around the corner

“See what’s there?” Max asked, a puzzled look on his face as Checo made a remark about him being the World Champion. “But I’m not” 

Another man off screen told Max to go to the room, leading him to question again. “But I’m not.” 

“Yes you are” 

“I am? You sure?” 

The roar that followed from Red Bull was almost deafening. Engineers and mechanics were on each other’s shoulders as they celebrated their driver. A mere twenty feet away, no one in red dared to make a sound. 

As podium procedure ensued, it took everything in you not to keep your eyes on Max. He was the main attraction after all. His eyes crinkled as his name was announced and his smile only grew wider once the trophy was in his hands. Pulling your eyes away from Max was tough, but once you eventually did, you focused on Charles and got back to work.

His only goal of the podium was to meet your eyes. Max scanned the Ferrari red, searching for the lens of your camera. With no surprise, it was angled to his left, directly at Charles. As the Dutch and Austrian national anthems droned on, Max couldn’t take his eyes off of you, while you fought every bone in your body not to meet his. 

======

You had never been happier than the moment you were done with all of your post race duties. The paddock still had people in it, most of them also making their way out for the weekend, and you were able to slip past Red Bull without seeing a particular World Champion. 

That is, until you got to the parking lot. 

Wet gravel crunched underneath your shoes as you made your way through the lot, careful not to ruin the pair of black and red Puma’s on your feet. Chatter from the people around you filled the air, one voice making an already terrible day even more miserable.

“Hey!” Max’s voice filled the parking area

He’s talking to someone else. Keep walking. 

“Y/n!” Max yelled 

Just don’t answer. He’ll go away. 

“Y/n!” 

Max’s walk quickly turned into a jog, trying to catch up to you. You could hear his footsteps quicken on the wet gravel, but you couldn’t get yourself to walk any faster. 

“Y/n. Why won’t you talk to me? Did I do something?” Max asked, grabbing your wrist

“Well the whole world thinks we’re dating right now but we’re barely even friends.” You replied, finally turning to face him

Max’s head tilted slightly “What are you talking about?” 

“That night in Zandvoort. It was a mistake, Max. I wasn’t ready then and I’m still not now. Congrats on the championship. I’ll see you around.” You answered, yanking your wrist out of his grasp before finally making your way to your car.

The wallet in his pocket grew heavy as he watched you walk away. The photo of the young boy rested inside of it as an aching reminder. 

[vitalverstappen]

Flash Forward - M. Verstappen (part two)

summary: The world of F1 is never easy. Throw in your childhood enemy and a new coworker you can't quite get a read on? You're in for a wild season.

pairing: Max Verstappen x fem!reader (Ferrari photographer, graffiti artist, childhood enemies), Charles Leclerc x platonic fem!reader, Logan Sargeant x platonic fem!reader

warnings: swearing, drinking, use of y/n, google translated Dutch, inaccurate descriptions of the Ferrari factory (literally couldn’t find ANY photos), mild slut shaming, brief mention of Jos Verstappen. Some of the race results are slightly inaccurate to fit the storyline. Sue me.

a/n: part 2 is finally here!!! Hope y'all enjoy reading this as much as i did writing it!

word count: 24.7k

masterlist

part one // part three

Monte Carlo, Monaco

The smell of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies filled your apartment as the oven timer beeped. You got up from your spot on the floor, past the dozens of half unpacked boxes that littered the floor, and transferred the treats from the oven to a cooling rack.

The offseason had treated you well so far. Charles and Alexandra had helped you pick out an apartment in Monaco, you had visited your friends and family back home, and you hadn’t seen a single gossip page post about you and a certain Dutchman.

Charles, Alexandra, and yourself were in the middle of attempting to unpack your stuff. You were grateful for the two of them helping you, but the building you had chosen felt oddly familiar. Though a finger couldn’t be placed on why it did.

“What are you even doing with all of those?” Charles asked as he got off of the couch and made his way to the counter opposite of you. 

“Giving them away to the neighbors” You said “A little offering for me being in the building” 

It was a gesture your mama had suggested when she heard you were moving out of the Netherlands. Three dozen cookies were scattered around your counter, with one last dozen being scooped onto the baking tray. Plenty for the people on your floor, and a few left over for snacking. 

“Why? You’re probably never going to see your neighbors ever again” He said, grabbing one of the cooled cookies and taking a bite out of it “These are really good” 

“Charl!” Alexandra chided her boyfriend as she finished setting up a few of your framed photos on the bookcase

“It’s all good, Alex. I made extra for a reason. Help yourself” You said as you slid one of the plates of cooled cookies closer to the girl 

You watched as her eyes lit up when she took a bite of the treat “He’s right. These are so good. Where’s the recipe from?” 

“Family recipe. I got it from mama” You replied 

“Ugh I’ll have to bug her for it. But I know your neighbors are going to love them” She said 

She was right, the neighbors that you got to meet did love them. As the days passed, you were able to meet the couple that lived to the left, the girl that lived to the right, and the group of guys that lived down the hall. But no matter how many times you knocked on the door across from you, no one was home. 

You assumed the apartment was empty at first. There were a handful of units that the building was trying to rent out, and the one across the hall must have been one of them. But your idea was quickly thrown out the window by small signs of life from the apartment. 

They started small, with Amazon packages in front of the door. The idea to check and see who they were addressed to popped in your head, but you quickly dismissed the thought. You wouldn’t be able to live down the embarrassment of someone catching you in the act.

A pair of APL sneakers were the next thing you found out by the door. They had to be male, with a size around size 41, and painted white with touches of navy blue. No distinctive marks about who the shoes belonged to. The shoes stayed there for a few days, occasionally with a padel racquet propped up against them. 

It wasn’t until you returned home one day that you got to meet the person who lived across the hall. You had been out and about taking photos while exploring the city of Monte Carlo. Your feet ached and all you wanted was to lay down and take a nap. 

You were at your door, fiddling to find the right key to your apartment, when the door from across the hall flew open. Jumping out of your skin, you turned to see who was the cause, and came face to face with the man you thought you wouldn’t have to see for at least a few more months. 

“Y/n? What are you doing here?” Max questioned, his eyebrows furrowed 

“Trying to remember which key is the one to my door.” You said, jiggling the keys you had on your lanyard like it was obvious, “What the hell are you doing here?” 

“I live here” Max answered, pointing back to the apartment he had just come out of

At that moment, everything made sense. Of course the building felt familiar, you were in it roughly eight months prior after the Monaco Grand Prix. Of course Charles got all giggly when you told him this was the unit you chose. 

“Oh, riiighhtt” You said, pretending to remember as you searched through your keys once again. Thankfully, you quickly found the one you were looking for as you sped the next sentence out of your mouth, “Well it was great seeing you but I have things to do. I’ll see you around” 

Max couldn’t get a word out as you hastily unlocked your door and entered your apartment, closing the door behind you. 

But Max stood there in the hall, processing what happened. And you missed the small whisper of “It’s good to see you too” that left his mouth. 

Your camera bag was tossed carelessly on the floor as you whipped out your phone. Normally disregarding your prized possession like that would cause you to wince, but you had more pressing matters on your hands. 

The phone rang once, then twice, then a third time, and you were starting to think she wouldn’t pick up. You knew she was awake, it was the same time back home as it was in Monaco. After the fourth ring, her voice finally filled your ears. 

“Hoi lieverd, hoe gaat het met de verhuizing? (Hi dear, how’s the move going?) ” Your mama asked as she answered the phone

“Niet slecht, er staan nog steeds overal dozen (Not bad, there’s still boxes everywhere)” You sighed as you ran your fingers through your hair.

“Uitpakken is altijid lastig. Uiteingelijik kom je er wel doorheen (Unpacking is always a pain. You’ll get through it eventually).” She assured you. “Heb jij je buren al ontmoet? (Have you met your neighbors yet?)”

“Ja, ze lijken allemaal leuk. Je raadt nooit wie er aan de overkant van de gang woont. (Yeah they all seem nice. You’ll never guess who lives across the hall)” You said as you moved to one of the scattered boxes. It was labeled dishes. 

“Wie? (Who?)” Your mama asked as you started to put some of your plates away into a cabinet

“Max Verstappen” You answered. Silence overcame the two of you as she processed what you said “Mama?”

“Is dat niet prachtig, pompoen! (Isn’t that lovely, pumpkin!)” She exclaimed once it finally hit her. “Je hebt een bekend gezicht in het gebouw! (You have a familiar face in the building!)

“Nee, mama. We zijn geen vrienden meer. Ik heb je verteld wat er vorig seizoen gebeurd is -. (No mom. We’re not friends anymore. I told you what happened last season -.)” You began to protest, but your mama was having none of it. Your mama knew exactly what had happened with Max, but that didn’t stop her from her delusions. 

“Ja, ja. Maar je kunt hem beter uitnodigen voor een etentje. Nu moet ik gaan. Ik heb koekjes in de oven. (Yes, yes. But you better have him over for dinner. Now I have to go. I have cookies in the oven.)” She said. 

You said your goodbyes, and hung up, leaving you alone in your apartment to unpack, across the hall from an unexpected neighbor. 

======

Max returned later that day, bags full of items he bought on his errands. He was greeted by a small plastic sandwich bag on his doormat. A mere moment away from stepping on its contents, he only realized it was there by the crinkle under his foot. He didn’t think anything of it as he picked it up and carried it into the apartment with the rest of his stuff. 

The bag was filled with cookies, and a handwritten note was taped to the outer plastic. Calligraphy donned the piece of paper that looked familiar, but Max couldn’t place where from. 

Thanks for welcoming me to the neighborhood. Enjoy the taste of home :) 

The cookies looked exactly like the ones from his childhood. The ones he could only get at the grade school bake sale. The ones he would purchase with his saved up money from raking leaves and shoveling snow. 

Thoughts of what could happen crossed his mind. He knew it could easily end badly, eating some cookies randomly showing up on his doorstep. But the second he dumped the treats out on a plate, all worries left his mind. 

When the cookie hit his taste buds, he was suddenly nine again. The bake sale had just opened. Kids crowding around one particular woman, all trying to get their hands on that chocolate chip cookie. 

And now one of the few people in the world who knew that cookie recipe lived across the hall from him. 

Maranello, Italy 

The sun beat down as you skated down the sidewalk outside the Ferrari factory. Italy in the winter was warmer than you expected, much warmer than the winters back home, causing you to leave your puffy coat in the car. The cracks in the uneven sidewalk caused the board to wobble underneath you, forcing you to hop off before you reached the front doors. 

It was the first full staff preseason meeting of the year, and the factory seemed to have a new life to it. Naturally, you showed up a bit early, giving you plenty of time to poke around and take some photos. There was no real goal, just to get the point across that the factory hadn’t sat empty for the past two months. 

You were standing on the mezzanine balcony that overlooked the main entrance to the building. As people would enter, you were able to snap photos from above. Most people walked right under, not even noticing you were there, but occasionally you would be spotted and get a wave or two. 

Carlos was the first of the drivers to walk in. The clicks of your camera prompted him to look up, the classic confused look plastered to his face. 

“What are you doing?” He asked 

“My job” You answered before joking “Can you pretend to not look miserable to see me” 

“That’s kind of hard to do” Charles said as he entered the atrium, hearing your conversation. You rolled your eyes as you continued to snap photos of the two drivers. 

“He’s not wrong.” Carlos mumbled, fighting the smirk on his lips “But I meant with the tripod.” He pointed to the tripod that stood next to you, angled down at the atrium entrance. 

“I’m filming” You stated “Most of the film will probably be posted on the Ferrari socials, but some stuff, like this conversation, I’ll scrap and throw in a vlog.” 

“You’re vlogging?” Charles asked 

“Why?” Carlos added 

“Are you trying to become internet famous?” Charles finished, curiosity lacing his words. 

“What? No,” You said, rejecting his claim “I’m doing it to spread awareness about women in motorsports. There’s only a handful of us to raise the next generation.” 

“Wow. That’s a lot better than being internet famous.” Carlos said, clearly impressed 

“Thank you Carlos. I’ll see you guys at the meeting. I have a few more things I wanna shoot before I head to the room.” You said. The two drivers made their way under the balcony towards the meeting room. 

Packing up your phone and tripod, you headed down to the main level of the building to capture a few more photos. The loud chatter of people echoed the halls as the meeting room doors were wide open. As you entered, you were one of the last ones to the room. Charles, Carlos, Benedetto, and all the higher ups who you were sure didn’t know your name sat at the front. You made your way towards the back of the room, somehow finding a seat next to Annalese. 

“Hey” You said as you slid into your seat, carefully putting your camera bag at your feet. Since it was just the intro meeting, you had no reason to photograph Benedetto and the other execs droning on. 

“Hey! How are you doing? How was your break?” Annalese asked 

You shrugged. “Not bad, definitely busy. I moved to Monaco, which has been exhausting.” 

“Wait, that's so exciting! Didn’t Albon and Russell just move there?” She asked 

“Alex did? I’ve seen George, Lando and Charles quite a bit, but didn’t realize he moved too. We had a few game and movie nights during the break.” You told her “The only thing that sucks about it is that Max lives literally right across the hall.” 

“No he doesn’t” Annalese said in disbelief 

“Yes he does” 

“The universe really decided to torture you” Annalese chuckled

“Don’t even get me started” You replied “He hasn’t been a problem yet.” 

“That’s good.” She said before her face lit up. “Oh my god I almost forgot. Y/n, this is Isabella. She’s the new photographer we hired. Isabella, this is Y/n.” 

Your attention turned from your boss to the girl sitting on the other side of her. Her long brunette hair matched perfectly with her eyes. The name tag everyone was forced to wear during their first few days was pinned to her Ferrari branded polo. You were aware that the company had been looking for a new photographer to help lighten Annalese’s workload, but wasn’t informed they had actually hired one.

“Hi, I’m Y/n” You introduced yourself “It’s so nice to meet you. Welcome to Ferrari” 

Isabella responded with a soft smile as she spoke “Thank you.” 

Just like you thought, most of the execs that spoke during the meeting droned on. Once you heard one of them lack any enthusiasm as they claimed they were so excited for the entire season, you could block out the rest. The speaker that made you snap out of your daydreaming was none other than the new Team Principal, Fred Vasseur. 

“Wow guys” Fred began, his voice bellowing through the room. “It is an absolute honor standing in front of you guys today. I know each and every one of you work your asses off every day to make this team run, and I am more than excited to work with all of you.” 

Sakir, Bahrain

The first day back in the paddock was always nerve racking. Teams were making final adjustments to the cars before the public got to see them, rookies were about to make their debuts in the cars they dreamed of driving as kids, and you were back to running around like a mad man. 

Even though the paddock was full of anxiety and preseason jitters, it was also full of a sense of familiarity. Faces that you haven’t seen since Abu Dhabi, and names of people that you couldn’t quite remember. 

Ferrari had moved up to the second garage along pitlane, with Mercedes dropping and kicking out McLaren. Unfortunately, Red Bull was still on the other side of the red terminals, after winning the Constructors Championship last season. 

You were in the midst of giving Isabella her paddock tour, just as Annalese did you a year prior. The new photographer took in all of the information you gave her: which teams prefer visitors on what days, what teams to avoid, and which teams will let you sneak into hospitality and take a warm chocolate chip cookie (Thanks Williams). 

As you approached Williams, you noticed a blonde headed boy you had never seen before. He was standing next to Alex, who towered over him, the two of them in deep conversation. The blonde seemed much more reserved, taking everything in rather than doing much of the talking. 

You slowed your pace, glancing at Isabella to see her taking in the scene. Alex exuded his usual vibrant energy, while the blonde exuded a quiet focus, his blue eyes absorbed every detail. 

The Ferrari red polos always made you stick out like a sore thumb near the blue Williams garage. Alex quickly caught sight of you, waving both you and Isabella over. 

“Y/n!” he called “It’s so good to see you. How was your winter break?” 

“Not bad. Charles convinced me to join the Monaco group” you replied, excitement bubbling inside you

“He did? We’ll have to meet up sometime when we’re both back home. Lily and I will have to show you some of our favorite spots” 

“You’ll have to beat Charles and Alexandra to it” you warned before turning to your coworker. “This is Isabella, our new photographer for the season.”

“It’s so nice to meet you” she said, giving the driver and the blonde a warm smile.

“I’m Alex, and this is our new driver, Logan” 

Logan offered a shy smile, his blue eyes bright with curiosity. “Hi, nice to meet you both” he said, his voice soft but steady 

Isabella’s excitement to be in the paddock seemed to encourage the blonde “So, how are you finding your first race weekend, Logan?” She asked 

“It’s amazing” He replied, glancing at Alex before continuing “Everything is so fast paced, and there’s so much to learn, but I love it.” 

Alex chimed in “He’s been doing really great, really picking up on things quickly. We’re lucky to have him.” 

Logan glanced down to your red polo before remeeting your eyes. “Are you also a photographer?” 

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips, “Yeah, I mostly work with Charles, but you’ll probably see me bouncing all around Ferrari.” 

Logan copied your nod, clearly intrigued with your role in the team “That sounds really cool. It must be amazing to be so close to everything.” 

“It is. It’s definitely overwhelming at times, but that’s just part of the fun” you said

Further down pit lane was Ferrari’s former neighbors, and sure enough the garage was bustling. Mechanics were busy assembling the car, engineers were analyzing the data from testing, while Lando and an unnamed man were yapping right outside. 

“So that’s Lando, he’s one of the McLaren drivers.” You informed Isabella as you pointed to the curly haired man. “And I’m going to be so honest, I have no idea who the other guy is.” 

At the sound of your voice saying your name, Lando’s head turned. The other guy followed suit, his eyes landing on the two of you. Lando broke into a smile upon seeing you, while the unnamed man’s eyebrows furrowed. 

“Y/n!” The Brit exclaimed as he walked over to you “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you”

“You saw me last week, Lando.” You informed him. “This is Isabella, she’s the new Ferrari photographer” 

As you looked between the two of them, you could see Isabella practically throwing heart eyes at the driver. Was he conventionally attractive? Sort of. But knowing his playboy personality, he wasn’t someone you’d wanna be with romantically. 

“I’m Lando” He said as if it wasn’t obvious before motioning to the other guy to come join the group. “And this is Oscar. He’s my new teammate” 

“Hi guys” He said, a thick Australian accent peaking through. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, much less enthusiastic with the unexpected guests. You assumed his demeanor was just from the nerves of the first day, all of the new information and new people popping in and out was overwhelming. 

“I’m y/n” You said “Isabella and I are both photographers for Ferrari” 

You learned a bit more about the Aussie, both from him telling you and Lando making slight comments. Lando joined you in swapping stories from the paddock, filling both of the newbies in. Each time Lando spoke, you swore hearts grew in her pupils. 

“They seem nice” Isabella spoke as the two of you finally left the papaya behind 

“I can’t vouch for Oscar, but I know Lando is. Most of the drivers are good guys.” You told her

Thankfully she didn’t ask for any explanation on what you meant by most. Having to explain your personal childhood beef and adult situation with the reigning World Champion would’ve bruised your ego a bit too much. 

Finally, you found yourselves standing in front of the final garage on pit lane. The navy blue was ice cold, a complete one eighty from the slight warmth it gave you before. The garage was emptier than McLaren’s but still had a few stragglers working on the cars. 

“And last but not least, Red Bull. Last years Constructor’s Champion, and home to last year’s Driver’s Champion” You said

“And home to the best content team on the grid” A voice said. 

Both you and Isabella turned around to see Meg approaching. You shook your head, but cracked a grin as you introduced the two girls to each other. 

“You’ll probably be seeing her and the other Red Bull girls pretty often. Aside from being garage neighbors, we do collab content with them occasionally” You informed the new photographer 

“Speaking of which, we have something scheduled in an hour.” Meg told you 

Your eyes widened as you processed her words. “We do?” 

======

And that’s how you found yourself, along with the rest of the Red Bull and Ferrari media teams, outside the teams’ hospitalities. Two hippity hops balls were in your hands, one blue and one red. Yourself, along with Isabella were setting up the activity you were forcing the four drivers to do, while Meg, Sofi, and Jess were setting up the cameras and lighting. 

“What the hell are you making us do?” Charles asked as both him and Carlos exited the Ferrari motorhome. At the same time, Checo and Max joined the group as they made their way through the paddock. 

Holding up the hippity hops, a shit eating grin formed on your face as you answered “We’re playing a game!” 

When Max’s gaze first landed on you, his heart skipped a beat. Your hair color slightly changed since he saw you in the hallway, but you looked just as amazing in the Ferrari polo he knew you were forced to wear. He only looked away when Meg was giving directions. 

“The rules are simple” Meg said once everything was set up. “The first person is going to hop the hippity hop from this tape mark, to the table down there. When you get to the table, there is a track name written on a piece of paper. When you’re done drawing the track, you turn around and hop back. Give the ball to your teammate and they’re going to do the same thing”

“There are four different tracks so no one can cheat,” Jess added. 

As expected, chaos ensued. Opposing drivers tried knocking each other off of their rides, while laughs were held back by everyone on the media teams. Fans and employees alike couldn’t help but stop and watch for a few moments as four of the best drivers on the grid made an absolute fool of themselves. 

After a highly competitive race, the Red Bull boys were deemed the winners. The media teams cleaned up the mess that was made, as the four drivers simply meandered around, yapping to whoever would listen. 

You were breaking down the foldable table with Isabella as Max approached. Out of the corner of your eye, Max fiddled with the Red Bull can in his hands, trying to figure out what to say to you. 

“Hey” Max finally said 

“Hi Max” You replied, your focus still on the table that wouldn’t fold 

The hand that wasn’t messing with the Red Bull was stuck in his pocket. “Just wanted to say thank you for the cookies. They were really good” 

Your eyes broke from the table to meet his for the first time that day. “You ate them?” 

When you put the cookies on his doormat, you didn’t know what would happen to them. You assumed he would just ignore them or throw them out. The thought of him eating them didn’t come close to crossing your mind. 

“I mean, yeah” He answered as if it was obvious “It was the same recipe your mama always made for the bake sale, right?” 

“I-yeah, they are. She gave me the recipe when I graduated grade school” You told him. It was hard enough to process the fact that he ate your cookie peace offering. But for him to remember that it was your mama’s recipe, and the same one she brought to all of the fundraisers truly blew you away. 

“They taste just like how I remembered them,” Max said. “Hope the move to Monaco wasn’t too bad” 

“It was pretty easy. Charles and Alexandra helped pick out the place. The two of them and a couple other guys on the grid helped me move in and unpack. I think the hardest part was meeting my crazy neighbor that lives across the hall.” You joked, though it was partially true. 

“You two know each other?” Isabella asked, causing you to break your gaze away from Max. To be completely honest, you forgot she was even there. The table had been folded up and she heard your entire conversation. 

“Yeah, we uh” You began, not really sure how to label the childhood enemies to semi friends to whatever you are now. 

“We grew up together,” Max finished. You gave him a quick smile, thanking him for saving you. 

“Grew up together and I happened to move into the apartment across the hall from him. Didn’t even know he lived there.” You said “If you want to head back to Ferrari, go ahead. I’m taking these to the Energy Station and then I’ll be back” 

The two of you watched as Isabella made her way back to the red and black motorhome. Neither of you dared to move a muscle until she was gone. 

“How’s the new girl been?” He asked

You glanced back to the Ferrari motorhome to make sure she was gone before speaking. “She’s okay. Definitely gonna take a few races to grasp everything. She was eyeing Lando earlier when we ran into him on her pit tour” 

“Somehow I’m not surprised” Max said, shaking his head “He could breathe and girls would flock to him” 

“Right” You agreed. 

Max wasn’t sure how the first interaction with you during the season would go. He was expecting you to ignore him, storm off or cause a scene. The absolute last thing on his list was you being willing to hold a conversation. 

“Do you need help carrying the table?” Max asked, though he was slightly relieved when you declined the offer. His hands were sweaty, and with his luck, he’d end up dropping it. 

The two of you grew quiet as neither of you knew what to say. The sound of your shoes crunching on the broken asphalt filled the air. 

“So you didn’t move across the hall to get closer to me?” Max joked, breaking the temporary silence 

“No Max, I didn’t” You answered “I honestly completely forgot you even lived in that building. When I went to your place, it was late at night in a city I didn’t know at the time” 

“I figured. I’m surprised Charles didn’t say anything” He said 

“I’d honestly be more surprised if he had told me” You chuckled. Charles was definitely a yapper, but he knew you would’ve tossed any thought of moving to Monaco if you knew you’d be neighbors with Max.

“That’s fair, he’s picky with what info he shares” Max said “How’ve you been though, since last season?” 

“Really good” You answered “All the crazy rumors have gone away.” 

The words hit Max harder than they should’ve. You were never his, and he was never yours. But god did he wish you were. Rumors were the closest he had gotten, and he never wanted more than those crazy rumors to be true. 

“That’s good, glad they all died down.” He said. The last thing he needed was to ruin the civility between you. So, he swallowed the lump of feelings and forced a smile. 

You had dropped the table off outside of the motorhome for their media team to pick up when they got there. Quickly, goodbyes were said before you made your way back to Ferrari.

======

The race on Sunday was forgettable. 

Charles had done well until he was forced to retire due to an engine failure. While Carlos placed in fourth, the Red Bulls had taken the top two steps, with Max landing on the top. As much as you would have loved for Ferrari to join the Red Bulls, you weren’t sure if you could deal with hearing your national anthem yet. 

So, you volunteered to be the photographer that followed Charles to the media pen. It gave you plenty of chances to get more content of the driver. Most of the photos were going to turn out the same, just him yapping, but you didn’t care. The images would most likely end up on your photography dedicated Instagram account, and that was fine. You just needed a reason to be busy. 

After celebrating the win with his team, Max entered the media pen with his PR manager. One of the Ferrari drivers was in the pen already, though he only realized it was Charles when he spotted a familiar camera lens a few feet away. 

He moved through the rituals of answering the media's ridiculous questions, every once in a while looking to his right to catch a glimpse of you. Each time, you could feel his eyes land on you as well as the exact moment they left. You were able to quickly snap a photo of him when his focus was no longer on you. Another group of B roll images that would end up on your photography account. 

======

You were fortunate enough to travel back to Monaco immediately after your job was done. As much as you loved traveling and exploring the world, you were always happy to be home. 

The same couldn’t be said for Max. His plan was to leave Bahrain as soon as his media duties were done, but due to a failure in the engine, he was forced to stay another day. It wouldn’t have been a problem, if he didn’t have the cats waiting for him. 

Usually, the cats would be fine for a race weekend. He would have the guy down the hall check in on them, giving them fresh food, water, and litter. But, the guy down the hall went on vacation the same day Max was going to be back. It left him with no choice but to reach out to someone else.

It was late when you finally got back to your apartment. Very little debate was needed to decide that the unpacking could wait until the morning, opting for a warm shower instead. When you got out, you weren’t expecting your phone to go off. 

Max: Can you do me a favor? The plane is broken so I’m stuck in Bahrain for another day

Your eyebrows furrowed as you read the text. As much as you didn’t want to help him, you knew he wouldn’t reach out unless it was absolutely dire. Your fingers danced around before typing up a response. 

You: Depends, what do you need?

Max: Can you take care of the cats for me? My usual sitter left for vacation today. It’s just feeding, water, and changing the litter 

As his next message came in, you knew you had to say yes. You had fallen in love with Jimmy and Sassy the second you walked into Max’s apartment last season. It would be cruel to say no. 

You: Yeah, I can. Lmk where your key/the supplies are and I’ll run over

A sigh of relief left Max’s lips as he received your texts. He quickly sent over instructions on the cats, along with where his spare key was located. You shot back a “thanks” before going on your way. 

Even without Max telling you, you easily could’ve guessed where his key was. The only thing outside his door was a dirty mat. Without second thought, you lifted up the corner. Sure enough, a silver key sat under it. 

The key slid into the lock and twisted with ease. Twisting the knob, you pushed the door, but it wouldn’t budge. You tried again, knowing full well you were supposed to push, but again it stayed shutl. On the third attempt, the door finally burst open, and two pairs of cat eyes stared at you from the other side. Meows from the duo ensued as you closed the door behind you. 

The apartment looked almost exactly like you remembered it last season. His helmets were hung along the walls while some of his trophies were displayed on shelves. His sim was tucked into the far corner of the living room, flanked by more F1 memorabilia. You couldn’t help but chuckle when one of the newest trophies to his collection, the Driver’s Champion trophy, was carelessly placed on a mini fridge stocked full of Red Bull. 

Following the directions Max had sent you, you were quickly able to find the litter as well as the food and water. When you got to changing the food, Jimmy weaved his way in and out of your legs, almost causing you to trip over him. Sassy cautiously watched from a distance as you went about your job, but let you get close enough to her to snap a photo of the two cats. After one last look over the apartment, you made your way back across the hall. 

Max received one last text from you letting him know the cats were doing well. Thoughts of you taking care of the felines with him flooded his mind as he received the photo of them. 

Baku, Azerbaijan

You propped your phone up on a ledge in a relatively quiet corner of the paddock. At the start of the season, you decided you would vlog every single race weekend, and Baku was no different. It was the first sprint weekend though, giving you plenty more content. 

Outside of the motorhome, you filmed the introduction, including explaining the sprint weekend schedule. Because of the additional race, qualifying and practices had been altered, moved, or removed to accommodate. 

You’d be lying if you said vlogging felt completely normal. During the first race weekend, you were so in your head and convinced people were making fun of you that you almost completely scrapped the idea for the entire season. 

“What are you doing?” you heard a voice ask. Your attention turned from your phone to the stretch of sidewalk you were on. Logan was standing there, confusion plastered on his face. 

You smiled, a little embarrassed, “Just vlogging the weekend. Figured I’d share the F1 experience” You gestured to your phone where you quickly stopped the recording. 

Logan raised an eyebrow, stepping closer “That’s a bold move in this paddock” He chuckled, but there was a hint of genuine interest in his voice.

“Yeah, I guess it is. At first, I thought people would think it’s silly, but I’m really enjoying it now. It’s a different way to connect with the fans.” 

He nodded, leaning casually up against the ledge. “I get that. Everyone loves the behind-the-scenes stuff. It’s fun to see the real side of racing.” 

A rush of relief filled you as he showed his support. “Thanks. What about you? How’s everything going at Williams?” 

Logan shrugged, indifference shown on his face. “Eh alright. I don’t think the car is where it’s supposed to be, but there’s still plenty of season left.”

“Got to stay optimistic, right?” you replied “You know what would make you feel better?” 

“What?” Logan asked, his eyebrows furrowing

A smirk formed on your lips as you stood up. “A fresh chocolate chip cookie from Williams”

Logan laughed, shaking his head “You’re not wrong, those cookies are to die for. It’s a shame I already had my allotted cookie for the day.” 

“Oh come on. I don’t think it’ll kill you to have one extra cookie. It’s a pick me up.” you teased 

“Tell that to my trainer.” Logan said “We’d have to sneak in there if we wanted any”

The wheels in your head began to turn, already plotting “Easy. I’ll need your help getting in though. You know I don’t have access” 

“Deal” Logan said, a playful spark in his eyes. “Just don’t let the team catch you, otherwise I’ll be in trouble” 

“Trust me, I’ll keep it discreet.” You said as you picked up your phone. “Do you mind if I vlog the walk to Williams though?”

He shook his head “Not at all. Honestly the entire thing would make for some good content” 

“Perfect” you said as you hit record again. “So change of plans. I ran into Logan, and we are currently on the way to the Williams motorhome to go and grab some cookies. For those of you who don’t know, Williams is known on the grid for having the best and freshest sweet treats.” 

As the two of you walked down the paddock, you and Logan talked about how he navigates through a race weekend, and how he’s feeling about his first F1 sprint weekend. You finally got to the Williams hospitality, your stomach hurting from laughing so much with him. You paused your recording to strap your phone to place it in the harness you got specifically to capture behind the scenes footage. 

“Wait, how are we even doing this?” you asked, looking at the American 

“I’ll distract, you grab the goodies,” he said, you nodded in response. 

After pressing record once more, you followed Logan into the Williams building, hoping that your Ferrari red would blend in just enough. The dining area was bustling, a couple of the team members chatting while others worked on prep. In the far corner sat the cookie jar. 

Logan walked over to the lady who was overseeing the dessert station, easily striking up a conversation with her. The way she was facing blocked her view of the cookie jar, giving you an easy route to take them. 

You walked over, acting like you belonged, and grabbed enough for you, Logan, and the two Ferrari boys, as you were filming with them in a bit. Once you had the cookies, you tapped Logan on the shoulder, letting him know you were good. Both you and Logan disappeared out of the WIlliams hospitality, into the blazing heat of Azerbaijan. 

Eventually, you got to the bright red Ferrari motorhome. The blasting A/C was a welcoming relief as you escaped the heat. Both of the drivers were sitting at a table talking, only noticing you when you approached them. 

“Well, well, well, look who finally showed up” Carlos spoke as he got up from his chair 

“Oh shut up” You said, rolling your eyes “I ran into Logan and grabbed a chocolate chip cookie from Williams” Both of the drivers' ears perked up. They knew how good those cookies were. 

“Did you bring us any?” Charles asked 

You moved your hand from behind your back, showing two cookies wrapped in a napkin “You know I wouldn’t keep these away from you” 

“You are amazing” Carlos said as he, along with Charles, took a cookie. 

“I know, I know” You smiled before placing your camera bag on the table “It’s going to be a fun session today though” A groan left both of the boys’ mouths, cookie crumbs following suit. 

“The last time you said that you made us stick clothespins to our bodies” Carlos reminded you.

“Yeah, and that was fun for me” You smirked, “But I think you guys are actually going to find today enjoyable” 

Both of the drivers exchanged glances as the only sound came from you unzipping your camera bag. You took out one of your cameras, offering it to Charles. 

“You are becoming tour guides” You said “You can pick who's going to operate the camera and who’s gonna be on camera, but you guys are going to give a tour of the garage, motorhome, and general paddock area” 

In addition to the camera you handed Charles, you took out another one for you to use. While you strapped your phone back onto the mount on your chest, the drivers decided that Charles was going to record and Carlos would be in front of the camera. 

“So how do I work this thing?��� Charles asked, clearly confused by the gadget in his hand 

A chuckle left your lips before you walked him through everything he would need. You could see the pure joy in his face when he discovered to zoom and focus by turning the lens. As he hit the red record button, you were ready to roll.

“Hi guys, today I am going to be giving you a tour of the paddock in Baku.” Carlos started as he looked around the motorhome. “Charles is here too, he’s operating the camera today” 

“Hello guys” Charles said as he waved his fingers in front of the lens, clearly way too close for comfort.

The tour of the motorhome was nothing short of boring. Carlos danced in someone’s empty office, in addition to almost spilling the entirety of the pot of freshly brewed coffee. As the three of you left the motorhome, Charles offered up the camera to Carlos. The Spaniard happily took it before looking to you like a lost puppy. 

“Can you show me how to operate?” He asked 

You passed the camera in your hands to Charles before walking over to Carlos. Just like you did with the other driver, you walked Carlos through the buttons and everything he needed to do a good job. Once Carlos got the idea, you took your camera back from Charles. 

“Alright guys, we are now in the main walkway area of the paddock. Most of the time spent here is walking to and from the motorhome and the garage, or to our various media commitments” Charles said to the camera

As you turned to follow Charles and Carlos down the pavement, you found Max walking towards the group. The smile on his face quickly dropped when he realized you weren’t the one operating your camera, and that it was Carlos instead. But the smile, along with an increased dose of nerves, returned when he saw you a few feet behind the driver. 

“Is he taking your job?” Max asked, motioning to Carlos. Both of the Ferrari drivers were hypnotized by their task that they didn’t notice the Dutchman. 

“You could say that” You chuckled  “I figured I should stop torturing the guys during my sessions with them and actually give them something fun to do” 

“I wish our media team did something like this. It gets boring constantly doing interviews” He admitted 

Your eyebrows furrowed “Didn’t you guys go offroading across Austria a few years ago?”

“I mean yeah, but that was years ago” He said “I mean I want more fun things in the paddock. You guys always have the best ideas” 

Your cheeks grew warm as you took in Max’s compliment. It was always fun when Ferrari and Red Bull worked together, but you knew where he was coming from with Red Bull’s ideas being boring. As much as you loved their media team, whenever it came to a meeting with them, it always ended with tons of their ideas being scrapped. 

“Thank you, Max” You said, a soft smile forming on your lips, “I’ll have to check our calendars and see what we have going on in the next few races. If there’s time, we should definitely do another collab” 

In the distance, you could see Carlos and Charles getting further and further away. If you didn’t follow them now, you knew you would never be able to find them again. Turning to Max, your soft smile turned into an apologetic one. 

“I’m so sorry but I have to go. I don’t need Tweedledee and Tweedledum breaking my camera” you apologized 

“No worries” Max said “I’m surprised you even let them touch it in the first place” 

A laugh left your mouth as you said your goodbyes to Max. You quickly turned around and jogged down the paddock to catch up to the two drivers who were still goofing off. 

The rest of the filming session went as smoothly as it could.  Shenanigans still ensued, but thankfully your camera was still intact, and filled with tons of content for you to use. 

======

It was almost ten at night when you entered the hotel lobby. You had just gotten back from the track, and by the looks of Max standing at the elevators, so did he.

“Hey stranger” You called as you approached the driver 

Max turned to see you walking towards him. You still had on your work uniform, and exhaustion all over your face. But when he locked eyes with you, a small smile formed, but your eyes screamed you needed to go to bed. 

“Hey, how was your day?” He asked 

“Long” You replied “And it’s not even close to being over.” 

“What? Aren’t you just going up to bed?” Max asked 

You chuckled as you shook your head “I wish. I still have to eat dinner and edit some of the content from today. I’ll probably get to sleep in a few hours.” 

Max winced as he heard your plans for the night. While he knew there was more to a media job than snapping photos and recording videos, he didn’t think the responsibilities would spill so late into the night.  

“Do you want a friend? Just so you’re not alone?” Max suggested 

“Oh, you really don’t have to” You said as the elevator doors opened. Max followed you into the lift. “You have to drive tomorrow” 

“So?” He asked “I usually stay up late looking at data anyway. It wouldn’t be a problem” 

“Alright, if it isn’t an inconvenience, you can join me.” You gave in “But I can’t have any distractions, I need to get this stuff done tonight. It’s all going out tomorrow” 

A ding filled the elevator signaling that you had reached the correct floor. The doors opened and you followed Max out into the hall. 

“Deal. I’ll go change and then I’ll be over” He said as he made a left down the hall, while you made a right. 

“Oh, and y/n?” He called 

“Yes?” 

“Room service is on me tonight” Max told you. As much as you wanted to object and say you could take care of yourself, Max had disappeared down the hall. 

You quickly made your way into your hotel room, showering and trading your work polo and jeans for a black Ferrari hoodie and matching sweatpants. As you set up your laptop and the SD cards of your two cameras, a soft knock landed on your door. Opening it, you found Max on the other side. He was dressed in a similar sweatsuit to yours, only being navy blue instead. His hands filled with his laptop and a pair of headphones. 

“Come on in, make yourself comfortable” You said as you moved to the side.

Max made his way into the small hotel room. The queen bed was the centerpiece, but two desks lined up against the far window, giving a gorgeous view of the city lights of Baku. He saw your stuff on the desk to the right, so he opted to place his stuff to the left. 

“So, what’re you thinking for dinner?” He asked as he took out the pamphlet that had the room service menu on it. 

“Depends, what are you getting?” You replied as you walked up to him, barely being able to comfortably look over his shoulder at the menu. 

Max could feel your presence behind him. Every breath, every movement was taken note of. A jolt ran through his body when he felt your chin land on his shoulder, trying to get a better look at the paper he was holding. He didn’t dare take his eyes off of the menu, desperately trying to think of an answer to your question. 

“I-uh um, probably the kebabs” He stuttered out, before handing you the menu over his shoulder 

Your eyes glanced over the menu, eventually choosing one of the chicken dishes. Max watched as you picked up the phone and placed the order, his mind still spinning from how close the two of you were moments earlier. 

“Alright, it should be here soon” You said once you hung up the phone. “Thank you for paying for it, you really didn’t have to.” 

Max shrugged “It’s no problem, really. It’s the least I could do to make your day a bit better” 

As the two of you waited for your food, you got to work. The main goal was to edit the tour that Charles and Carlos had given earlier in the day. Easy, right?

Wrong. 

It started with the fact that Max was simply in the room. There was nothing he did or said that forced you to take your eyes off of your screen to look at him, but you did. In fact, he was quite respectful. He didn’t say a word to you as you attempted to work.

But you couldn’t help but catch yourself staring at him. You didn’t know why, it was just Max afterall. Just Max who continuously made fun of you in grade school. Just Max who almost got you arrested years ago. Just Max who welcomed you to Formula One with open arms. Just Max who you cried to in the hotel in Miami last season. Just Max, who you developed a crush on last year that you swore you bottled up and put on the shelf. 

At least, you thought you did. 

It only got worse when Max realized that you were staring. He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, only doing a double take when he saw your attention was on him already. He removed the headset and paused the video he was watching to turn to you. 

“Are you okay?” He asked 

“What?” You questioned snapping out of your daze. “Um yeah, I’m good” 

Max’s eyes narrowed, not believing you for a second. “Are you sure? You were looking at me weirdly”

“Yeah, no, yeah I’m fine. Just lost in thought. Editing decisions, that’s all” You explained 

He nodded, still unsure whether or not to be convinced. Before he could question your reasons, a knock on the door caused him to break eye contact. 

“I’ll get it” He insisted 

You watched as Max got up from his seat to your door. After a brief exchange between the driver and the hotel worker, Max came back with two trays in his hands. You rushed over, taking the second tray from him so he wouldn’t spill. As your fingers brushed his, you fought to capture the butterflies that were taking over your stomach. 

“Thank you again, Max” You said, placing your tray down at your station. 

“Of course, y/n” He replied as he followed suit by placing his tray at his desk. “How’s the video editing going along?”  

“You wanna see it?” you asked, a smirk dancing on your lips 

“Of course” 

You scooted your chair closer to him, dragging your laptop and your food along with it. As you rewound the video to the start, you could feel Max rest his arm on the back of your chair. 

Laughter immediately ensued as you pressed play. The camera was slightly shaky as Charles’ voice asked for help on how to use it. Your voice was faintly heard as you explained, before cutting to Carlos introducing himself and explaining the reason for the video. 

The footage continued, showcasing the areas around the paddock, garage, and motorhome. Every so often, you would chime in, giving Max little behind-the-scenes tidbits. Suddenly, the film changed to a part of the paddock you don’t remember being at. 

“This must have been when we were busy yapping” you said as you squinted at the screen

“Yeah, glad nothing happened to the camera while you were gone.” Max said “You can never trust the two of them” As if on cue, the screen jostled and a view of the grass was shown. 

“He dropped my camera?!” You exclaimed, your eyes widened at the sight “I’m going to kill him” 

Max burst into laughter, clearly entertained by your reaction. “At least it still works” 

You shook your head in disbelief, a mix of frustration and amusement bubbling in you “I shouldn’t have expected anything less from the idiots.” 

Max leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips, “You know, instead of a tour, you could title the video: ‘How not to handle a camera, featuring C squared” 

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help but chuckle. As you resumed the video, you watched Charles pick up the camera, his sheepish grin evident even through the shaky footage. “Oh he knows he messed up” you muttered, watching as he tried to make light of the situation, joking with Carlos in the background. 

Monte Carlo, Monaco

As much as you loved traveling, you were thankful for Formula One to return to Monaco. Living out of a suitcase was tough, but the experiences you got made it all worth it. 

With you having a place in Monaco, you offered Logan and Oscar your place for the weekend. The three of you had slowly grown closer as the season progressed, bonding over running late to whatever track you were at, watching random sporting events, and a lot of FaceTime calls. 

“Holy shit!” Logan exclaimed as he walked out to your balcony, his eyes wide with disbelief. “This is your view?” 

You chuckled, leaving against the railing beside him. “Pretty incredible, right? It never gets old.”

He gazed out at the breathtaking scene - the sparkling blue of the Mediterranean stretching out beneath the blazing sun, the picturesque harbor filled with yachts, and the iconic winding streets of Monte Carlo. The only change to your regular view was the presence of the grandstands placed around the streets.

“This is unreal,” he said, shaking his head in amazement, “I cannot believe we get to spend the weekend here.” 

Oscar joined the two of you out on the balcony, a grin on his face as he took in the view for his first time. “It’s definitely a step up from the hotel rooms we usually get” he joked

You laughed, appreciating the camaraderie that had developed among the three of you. You knew Logan and Oscar had been friends, and former teammates in karting, so you were grateful the duo welcomed you to the friend group. 

“I figured it’d be nice to have a home base instead of just dealing with a cramped hotel room” You shrugged

Logan turned to you, sincerity in his eyes “Thanks for offering this. It makes a huge difference. I feel like I can actually relax before the race.” 

“It’s no problem at all” you replied “It’s fun having friends around” 

“You already have a certain someone around though” Oscar chimed in a teasing tone in his voice. You furrowed your eyebrows, intrigued. “Max is across the hall, isn’t he?” 

The boys both knew about your situation with Max - the reigning world champion often being a topic of conversation on those late night calls, mixed with playful teasing and curious speculation. You felt your cheeks warm at the mention of his name. 

“Yeah, he is,” you admitted, trying to keep your tone casual, but the slight flutter in your stomach gave you away. “But it’s not what you think” 

Logan raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained. “What do you mean? Just friends sharing a building?” 

You nodded, though the teasing glances exchanged between the two of them made you a little self conscious. “Exactly. We’re just neighbors. We don’t even hang out when we’re both home.” 

Oscar leaned in, clearly enjoying the moment. “Right, but you two hang out in other places around the world, sharing room service and media content.” 

You rolled your eyes, laughing but feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement. “Okay, yes. We’ve had some fun moments together. But it’s all professional.” 

Logan chuckled “Sure, professional. Until you end up showing him more than just your photos” 

You shook your head, trying to suppress a smile “You guys are ridiculous. Max is great, but I’m focused on my work.” 

“Just admit it,” Oscar said, still grinning “You wouldn’t mind having him around more often.” 

You sighed, running your fingers through your hair. “Okay, maybe I wouldn’t mind it” you admitted, finally coming to terms with the resurfacing feelings you had for the Dutchman. “But let’s be real. I have a job to do.” 

Logan nudged you playfully “Exactly, you can’t let a guy distract you. We need those epic shots of us on the track.” 

You rolled your eyes “I don’t even take photos of you guys.” you shot back, playfully dismissing him before disappearing back into your apartment. 

======

The Grand Prix being in Monaco though, only meant plenty of running around with the hometown boy and late nights editing content. Qualifying had ended hours earlier, but you and Charles were still stuck in the paddock, filming videos for all of the Ferrari social media pages. 

“I think we have one more to do, then we should be good” you said, your voice full of remorse “I don’t know why they chose to throw all of this on us with the race being tomorrow” 

Charles chuckled, running a hand through his hair, clearly tired, but still in good spirits. “It’s part of the stress of a home race. Everyone wants a bit of you.” 

“Tell me about it” you agreed as you set up the last shot. Thankfully the last thing on the to do list was a simple thank you video to the fans. Once the camera was set up, you moved the driver into frame, and pressed record. 

Even through the visible exhaustion on his face, Charles executed his words perfectly. Times like this made you grateful to work with a driver who was able to crank out the grueling work quickly, so both of you could get out of there. 

“Perfect” you said after stopping the recording. “Thank you again for doing all of this, it wasn’t fair to you” 

Charles shrugged “It’s like this, can’t change any of it now.” he said. You couldn’t help but smile at him messing up the saying ‘it is what it is’. 

“True. But you’re free to go. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” you said as you packed up your camera, tripod, and phone that was recording the behind the scenes 

His eyebrows furrowed as his head tilted “Are you not leaving too?” 

You shook your head. “Not yet. If I go home, I’m going to crash, and I need to get everything we just did edited for tomorrow.” you answered 

“You better not stay up too late though” Charles warned “We need you ready to go for tomorrow” 

You couldn’t help but chuckle “I’ll try, but you know how it is - there’s always one more thing to tweak. Regardless, there’s nothing a can of Red Bull won’t fix.”

A smirk formed on Charles’ lips, his eyebrows both raised. It took you a second to process what you had said. 

“I meant it as a general term for an energy drink” you explained yourself, thankful that the paddock wasn’t super bright so he couldn’t see the blush on your cheeks 

“Yeah, sure you did” he rolled his eyes, the smirk still plastered on his face. “I’ll see you tomorrow y/n.” He said before turning to head to the exit 

“See you tomorrow, Charles” you echoed before turning and entering the Ferrari motorhome

As you worked hastily in the paddock, trying to get everything done for the night, Max had entered your shared apartment building, ready to rest before the race the next day. What he didn’t expect to see was a certain American driver already standing at the elevator doors. 

“Logan?” Max questioned. Sure enough, the blonde turned around, his face filled with just as much confusion as Max’s. “What are you doing here?” 

“Just trying to get some rest before the race tomorrow.” He answered “I’m staying with y/n for the weekend. She offered her place.” 

Max’s eyebrows raised as Logan’s words hit his ears. She offered her place. They repeated in his mind. “Oh, did she?”  

Logan nodded, a friendly grin on his face. “Yeah, she’s been super accommodating. Figured it would be easier and cheaper than trying to find a hotel.” 

The elevator echoed a ding through the lobby. Once the doors opened, the drivers walked in, Max opting to lean up against the wall. 

“So you’re just crashing with her, huh? How convenient.” he said, crossing his arms. Indifference feigned from his mouth, but curiosity, mixed with a tinge of jealousy bubbled underneath the surface.

“Yeah, it’s quite nice being literally walking distance to the track. I’ve never had anything like this before” The American said, pressing the button for the floor Max shared with you. 

Max couldn’t help but chuckle, trying to mask his intrigue. “I’ll have to admit, she picked a great building to move into. But you didn’t just come for the accommodations, did you?” 

Logan shot back a look. He knew Max was trying to bait him, get him to slip up and admit something he didn’t actually mean. “Y/n’s a great friend, always fun to hang out with. She’s been showing me her photos and paintings. They cover her walls.”

Again, Logan’s words struck Max like a bullet, just as another realization hit. Logan had seen your apartment before Max had. He had seen your hotel rooms and childhood bedroom, but never your current residence. 

Max’s expression shifted slightly, a mix of amusement and annoyance. “Oh really? She’s shown you her art? That’s…nice.” The words felt heavy on his tongue as he tried to keep his tone light.

“It’s impressive. You should ask her to show you sometime” Logan replied, only slightly aware of the undertones of the conversation “She has a real talent for capturing the energy of the races.”

The younger image of himself blazed in Max’s mind. He knew all too well how good you were at capturing the energy of a win. 

“Sure,” Max replied, forcing a nonchalant tone. “I’ll add it to my list of things to do.” 

As they stepped out of the elevator and into the hallway, Logan continued to praise your work. “Yeah, it’s honestly great to see someone so passionate about what they do. It makes you appreciate the whole atmosphere in the paddock more.” 

Max nodded, his mind racing far away from the conversation in front of him. He didn’t want to admit it, but the thought of you and Logan spending time together stirred something within him. “Yeah, she’s definitely talented.” 

The rest of the walk down the hall was silent, neither driver really knowing what to say. When they got to their respective doors, they exchanged nods, bidding the other goodbye. Logan turned first, Max expecting him to knock on your door, but was quickly caught off guard when he inserted a key into the slot. 

His heart sank as he watched the knob turn, the door creaking open quickly after. Logan walked in, giving no glance back to his gridmate before the door closed again. 

Max stood there for a moment, staring at the door. The reality of Logan being in your apartment felt like a punch to the gut. He shook his head, trying to get rid of the already built irritation. 

“Get it together, Max,” he muttered to himself. He had no right to feel possessive, and had much bigger things on his plate in the next twenty four hours. 

======

The Grand Prix was relatively forgettable. While Charles’ strategy was pretty standard, Carlos’ had to be one of the worst you’ve ever seen. 

“What the hell are they doing with his race?” you asked Annalese, running into her along the pit. 

She glanced at the engineers and strategiests sitting on the wall, each of them with their eyes glued on data filled screens. “No clue. Honestly we could call a better strategy than them” 

“Exactly” you agreed “Every time I’ve heard his radio, it’s just been him complaining” 

“To be fair, he does complain a lot,” Annalese laughed before bidding you goodbye to get back to work. 

Towards the later half of the race, you found yourself at the final corners. A few other photographers were there, all of you aiming to capture the final laps of the Grand Prix. 

As the cars roared past, you focused intently on capturing the action, your camera clicking in quick succession. While your focus was on the two cars in red, you could help but to capture a few photos of your roommates for the weekend as they drove past. 

To no surprise, Max had crossed the finish line first. You were able to get a few shots of him from a distance, as there were literally no other cars remotely close to him. As neither of the Ferrari boys finished on the podium, you made your way back to the garage, where you found Isabella looking at her camera. 

She looked up as you approached, as if she felt your presence. “Was your race as boring as mine?” she asked 

You nodded, “Yeah, the best shot I got was of this cool looking bird that landed on the railing during lap 65”

Isabella laughed, shaking her head “At least you got something. All I got was the pit wall’s collective frustration” 

“Well that’s their own doing” you chuckled. “I did manage to get a shot or two of Max weaving around the Anthony Nodges curve. The team is gonna have to pay big bucks for them though” 

“Oh yeah, they’d totally do that” Isabella said, sarcasm dripping from her words. 

You glanced down pit lane at the celebration of Max and his team. Laughter and cheers echoed all the way down the straight, with the Dutch Anthem soon to follow. 

“Are you going to the after party?” Isabella asked, forcing you to tear your gaze away from the commotion. 

You shook your head, “Nah, it’s gonna be total chaos out there. I have a bottle of wine and photo editing calling my name” 

“I get it. I guess you can kinda go out whenever ‘cause you live here” she said “I’m excited to see what the nightlife is finally like.” 

“Oh it’s fun.” you emphasized “Knowing Max, you guys will probably end up at either Jimmy’z or Sass Cafe. Just be careful. You never know what the guys are gonna get into” 

With one last glance at the festivities down the pit, you said goodbye to your coworker and headed out. 

======

Max needed that win badly. He needed the win to prove he was the best. He needed the win to prove to himself he was better than some American on the grid. 

But more importantly, Max craved the after party. The wild celebrations, the loud music, the flashing lights - anything and everything to help him escape the pressure. He needed to forget the win, forget the American, and especially forget you. 

Just like you predicted, Max found himself and the rest of the party at Jimmy’z. The club was alive, a whirlwind of energy and sound that enveloped him the second he stepped inside. The bass pulsed through his body, drowning out most of the doubts and expectations of the weekend. 

Except no matter how many drinks he had, the thoughts of Logan in your apartment still lingered. The image of both of you together, the laughter, the easy intimacy - it was a ghost that haunted him. Every beat of the music seemed to echo the sound of your door closing, with Logan inside. 

What made it worse was that neither of you were at the party. Every time he glanced around, he hoped to find you in the crowd, only to be met with a sea of unfamiliar faces. Max knew you were always hit or miss when going out, but he assumed since it was in a place you were familiar with, you’d be joining. 

As the night wore on, he pushed through the crowd, seeking distractions in drunken laughter and loud cheers, but the absence of you and Logan loomed larger. Each moment of joy was tainted by the feeling of something missing, a void he couldn’t ignore. A hole that needed to be filled. 

He started by surrounding himself with his friends. Lando had just gotten done mixing a set and was leaving the dj booth when Max found him. 

“There you are, mate!” Lando said over the booming music, his face lit up with excitement. “You like the mix?” 

“Yeah, it was great,” Max said, nodding slightly. The music had been the last thing on his mind. 

“Thanks, it’s brand new” Lando continued, completely oblivious to the fact Max wasn’t listening. The Brit spotted the empty glass in Max’s hands prompting his face to light up again. “Next round is on me” 

Max didn’t have the time to argue as Lando made his way to the bar. Max followed, weaving in and out of the crowd, only to be handed a shot by his friend. 

The two men clinked the glasses before tapping them on the table and putting them to their mouths. Max downed the shot quickly, the burn a welcome distraction. 

“Congrats on the win again,” Lando said. Max barely muttered out a “thanks”, and for the first time that night, Lando’s happy-go-lucky disposition changed. “You doing alright, mate?” 

“Yeah, just tired” he replied, hoping Lando would drop the topic and move on

Lando studied him for a moment, concern creeping into his expression. “No you’re not.” his eyes narrowed, as if he was zeroing in on the problem. “You’re still mad about y/n and Logan, aren’t you?” 

“What? No.” He scoffed. Lando gave him a knowing look. Max’s shoulders slumped in defeat “Yeah”

Lando’s expression softened. “You’ve got to let it go, Max. You can’t let this ruin your night. Celebrate your win!”

Max ran a hand through his hair, frustration slowly bubbling up to the surface. “It’s not that easy, mate. I know I shouldn’t feel this way, but I can’t help it.”

“Look,” Lando said, leaning in closer, his voice serious. “You’re going to have a million nights sulking. You can’t keep carrying this around with you. Enjoy the moment. Let loose. Go find some girl to entertain you for the night.” 

Max let out a sharp laugh, though it lacked any real humor. “You think some random girl is gonna fix this?” 

“Maybe not fix, but it could help take your mind off things for the night.” Lando shrugged, handing him a glass filled with god knows what

Max stared at the drink in his hands, the ice clinking against the glass as if mocking him. Lando’s words hung in the air, and he could feel the weight of the night pressing down on him. It was true - he needed a distraction, something to pull him out of the spiral of thoughts that had haunted him since he saw Logan enter your apartment. 

His eyes scanned the crowd, looking for a girl who could fill the void that you unknowingly left. At the edge of the dance floor, Max caught the gaze of a small brunette. He quickly chugged his drink, placing the empty glass on the bar. 

“I’ll see you around” Max said to Lando before making his way back through the crowd

Max pushed through the mass of bodies, the bass pulsing with each step he took. As he approached the brunette, he felt a mix of anticipation and uncertainty. She was laughing with her friends, her smile bright and infectious, but he couldn’t shake the feeling in his gut. 

“Hey” he said, leaning in slightly so he could be heard over the music. She turned, her eyes lighting up at the sight of him. 

“Hey! You’re Max right?” She asked, the driver nodding in response “Congrats on the win today” 

“Thanks, I appreciate it” He said, a genuine smile creeping on his face for the first time tonight. He couldn’t lie, the girl’s energy was infectious. 

The two of them quickly found themselves intertwined with each other, the beat of the music driving every movement. Max felt the tension in his chest ease as they danced, the thoughts of you slowly fading away. 

Meanwhile, you, Logan and Oscar had made yourselves comfortable in your living room. The sound of the Cars movie filled the background as the three of you split a bottle of red wine. Your laptop sat on the coffee table as you edited the photos from the day, constantly being interrupted by one of the guys. 

You adjusted your position on the couch, leaning back into the cushions as you sipped your wine. The warmth of the red liquid relaxed you, contrasting with the lively banter between Logan and Oscar. The American was to your right on the couch, his arm resting behind you, just close enough for you to bump into it whenever you moved. Oscar on the other hand was sprawled on the floor, claiming he needed to stretch. 

“Hey, can you pause that for a second?” Logan asked, looking over your shoulder. “I wanna see those pics from earlier.”

You looked at the laptop, filled with candid shots from today’s adventures at the track. “Sure.” you said, hitting pause and turning the screen to face him.

Logan leaned in, close enough for you to get a wave of his cologne. “These are sick. We need to get you over to Williams next season” 

“Yeah, good luck trying to get Annalese to agree to that” you chuckled

Oscar made his way off of the floor over to the other side of the couch. “You should post that photo of Max going around turn 19. It’s really good” 

You smiled at the thought, but still your stomach twisted. It wouldn’t be the first time you posted Max, but you didn’t want the fans to get the wrong idea. 

“Yeah, I might” you replied, forcing your focus back to the photos. “I just want to make sure I have the right ones picked out.” 

The three of you set back into a comfortable rhythm, sipping wine and tossing comments about the movie. But every time you caught a glimpse of the photos of Max, your mind wandered back to him, and the party you were missing out on. 

“Are you alright?” Oscar asked suddenly, catching the shift in your demeanor

You forced a smile, maybe a bit too big to be genuine “Yeah, just thinking about the shots” 

Oscar raised an eyebrow, not convinced with your answer “Thinking about Max?” 

You sighed, looking down at the photo of the navy blue car, the cursor hovering directly over the cockpit. “Yeah” you sighed “Kind of wishing I went out with them” 

“Are we that boring?” Logan asked, his voice dripping in pretend hurt

“Of course not” you said, “Just not everyday you get to celebrate a Grand Prix”

“You’re right, it’s only almost every weekend” Oscar said, your eyes rolling in response

As the movie continued, you tried pushing the thoughts aside and immersing yourself in the present. For now, you could enjoy this night, even if part of your mind was still on Max, hoping he was finding his own way to celebrate. 

Your thoughts were cut off by the sound of your apartment door jolting. The sound was far from a knock. It was much more demanding, as if the cause was trying to force itself into your place. You exchanged glances with the two boys on your couch before you got up to investigate. 

As you approached the door, your heart raced with curiosity. You glanced back at Logan and Oscar, who looked equally as intrigued, their laughter from the movie fading into silence. 

You opened the door, just enough to get a peak who was behind it. On the other side stood a disheveled Max. He was slightly out of breath, the unmistakable scent of a party lingered on his lips. His apartment key was in his hand, and his focus on the lock on your door. 

“Max,” you spoke, causing the Dutchman to look up, his expression shifting from confusion to recognition. “What are you-” 

Before you could finish your sentence, an unmistakable voice filled the hall “Y/n!” 

Your head snapped to the source of the voice, your eyes widening as you made eye contact with a certain brunette. The reality of the moment crashed over you as you glanced back at Max, whose focus was now fully on you. The tension in the air was palatable.

“Isabella” you whispered, choosing your next words carefully, a knot forming in your stomach. “What are you doing here?” 

“Max invited me over!” she exclaimed, the same intoxicating scent wafting off her tongue. “I didn’t realize you two live together.” 

“We don’t” you clarified, trying to keep your voice steady. “I live here. Max lives across the hall. Isn’t that right, Max?” 

The tension thickened, his cheeks pink with embarrassment as he slowly processed the mistake, “Right” he agreed, turning to your coworker. “I live right there,” he said, pointing to his own door across the hall. 

Suddenly, footsteps echoed behind you, halting the uncomfortable situation. Max’s eyes widened, taking in the presence behind you as the warmth of a hand rested on your waist.

“Is everything alright?” Logan spoke from behind you, his voice cutting through the tension.

“Yeah” you replied as your tone grew harsher. Your focus was still locked on Max. “Max here just happened to forget which apartment is his. I was just helping him get the correct one. Right Max?” 

Max swallowed hard, his gaze moving to the hand resting on your body. “Right” he repeated, turning to Isabella and taking her hand as he stepped back.

As you closed the door, a groan escaped your lips, the frustration finally bubbling to the surface. Logan and Oscar exchanged glances, curious about what just transpired. 

“What was that all about?” Oscar asked, now sprawled out on the couch

“Honestly, I have no idea” You sighed, running your hands through your hair in exasperation “It’s like he completely lost his mind” 

“Max took home Isabella and thought y/n’s apartment was his” Logan clarified, a hint of disbelief in his voice.

“Oh” the Aussie said, finally sitting up, a look of realization crossing his face “I guess the good thing about this is that you finally know how he feels?” he suggested, an awkward smile on his face. 

Both you and Logan gave Oscar a glare that would wipe out an entire country. 

Oscar raised his hands in mock surrender, laughing nervously “Alright, alright. Just trying to lighten the mood.”

======

Sunlight streamed through Max’s curtains signaling that the day was beginning. The night before felt like a distant memory, a surreal blend of laughter and reckless abandon that danced just beyond his grasp. He squinted against the bright light, wincing at the pounding in his head confirmed the reality of it all. 

Shifting slightly, Max felt the weight of his body pressing into the sheets, sticky and tangled from the heat of the night. The remnants of conversations echoed in his mind - the mix of playful banter and hints of something deeper. He couldn’t shake the feeling that the night had changed something, but he wasn’t quite ready to piece it together. 

With a groan, he pushed himself up, the world spinning slightly as he took a moment to gather his thoughts. He glanced around the room, still a bit disoriented. Photos of races and trophies adorned the walls, reminders of his life as a driver, but it was the incessant buzzing of his phone that caught his attention. 

Reaching for it, he noticed the screen lit up with a message. As he unlocked it, confusion flooded his head when he saw Isabella’s name flash across the screen. He had no recollection of her evening giving him her number.

Isabella: Had a great time last night! See you in Spain ;)

Max’s eyes snapped wide as the reality of the night before settled in. The conversation with Lando, the way Isabella had danced, and then the moment he’d invited her back to his place. But more vividly, he recalled you opening the door, the surprise on your face, and Logan’s hand on your waist, pulling you closer. 

His heart raced as he pieced together the details. Had he really invited Isabella back to his place after everything that had unfolded? How did the night spiral in ways he never anticipated? What had felt so carefree now felt tangled and complicated. 

He shot Isabella a half hearted text saying that he enjoyed the evening too, before setting his phone down, anxiety gnawing at him. Max knew he messed up. Big time. He hadn’t just blurred the lines with Isabella; he’d torched any chance of something real with you

Taking a deep breath, he raked a hand through his hair, trying to shake off the fog. He needed to talk to you, to set everything straight. But how could he explain everything without sounding completely insane? “Hey! I slept with your coworker trying to get over the massive crush I have on you because I think you’re sleeping with Logan.” wouldn’t sit well with you at all.

He thought about going over and knocking on your door to apologize for his actions, but didn’t want to risk running into Logan again. Sending a text seemed too casual for the weight of what he wanted to say. 

But then the debate of whether or not he even should say anything crossed his mind. What if you didn’t care? What if you were happily enjoying your relationship? The thought made his stomach churn, the fear of rejection eventually winning him over. 

Spielberg, Austria

You had avoided Max in Spain and Canada, dodging him at every turn. Whether it was ducking behind a stack of tires again, or taking the long way around the paddock to avoid walking past the Energy Station, you hadn’t seen Max, and Max hadn’t seen you. 

Isabella was harder to avoid, being coworkers after all. Thankfully, she seemed to get the hint that you didn’t want to interact, minding her business and spending most of her time in Carlos’ garage. 

It was media day in Austria, and while the drivers were in their briefings and press conferences, you had made yourself comfortable in the Ferrari pit. The buzz of the paddock felt familiar and comforting, a stark contrast to the tangled emotions you had been wrestling with. 

The mechanics and engineers moved around you as you sat on your skateboard, using it to glide down the concrete to capture pit stop practice. The sounds of chatter and clanking filled the air, creating a symphony of activity that kept your mind occupied. You snapped photos of the team, capturing the precision and teamwork that made their pitstops efficient. 

As you worked, the sound of laughter caught your attention. You looked around, trying to find the culprit, but you wished you hadn’t. Max was in the Red Bull pit, surrounded by a few team members. He looked relaxed, a stark contrast to how you felt. 

Your heart raced at the sight of him, and instinct kicked in. You shifted your focus back to your camera, trying to suppress the mixed feelings inside. 

“Are you alright, tesoro?” One of the mechanics asked, causing you to jump 

 You looked up, forcing a smile. “Yeah, just a little distracted.” 

“Is Max causing you trouble?” he asked, a teasing glint in his eye

You laughed softly, trying to downplay it “You could call it that. Just stupid paddock drama” 

The mechanic nodded knowingly, a sympathetic expression on his face. “I know how it is. May I ask what happened?” 

You hesitated, weighing your options. What is spoken about in Ferrari usually stays in Ferrari. But it doesn’t help when part of the problem is also in Ferrari. 

“It’s complicated” you finally said, glancing back at Max who was too busy yapping to one of his team members to notice you staring. “We were… close, but he took someone home after Monaco that I wasn’t expecting.” 

As if on cue, Max bid goodbye to his mechanics, turning towards the Ferrari garages. Your breath caught in your throat, and you quickly looked away, focusing back on your camera. You felt a rush of anxiety wash over you. 

“He’s coming this way” the mechanic observed “Maybe he’ll come and say hi”

“Doubt it” you mumbled 

Sure enough, the driver walked straight past you and the mechanic, his pace not faltering in the slightest. He stopped in front of Carlos’ garage, a smile grew on his face as he spotted someone inside. Moments later, Isabella emerged from the garage, embracing Max in a hug. 

Your stomach twisted as you watched the scene unfold. The warmth of their interaction felt like a punch to the gut, but you couldn’t get yourself to turn away. You could feel the mechanic’s gaze shift between you and the unfolding moment, his expression a mix of concern and curiosity. 

“Looks like they’re close” he said quietly, trying to gauge your reaction 

You forced a laugh, though it felt hollow “Yeah, you can say that” 

Isabella leaned in to say something to Max, his laugh rang out, carefree and easy. Jealousy couldn’t help but bubble up as you recalled his visits to your side of the garage only a season prior. The way he joked with you, the late-night run-ins in the paddock that felt so special. Now it all felt so distant, a ghost of what had been. 

“Come on, let’s get you in the car to get some different angles” the mechanic offered, noticing your shift in demeanor “I think there’s a wrench somewhere around here you can throw at him” 

Your laugh was genuine for the first time at the thought of knocking out the driver with the metal tool. “Don’t tempt me with a good time.” You said as you stood up from your skateboard.

On the other side of the Ferrari pit, Max opted to give Isabella a chance. He told himself he couldn’t spend the rest of his life waiting around for you, the uncertainty of your feelings pushed him more towards her. Late nights and quick favors between the two of you were just signs of friendship, he reasoned. 

Still, he could feel your eyes on him as he talked with Isabella, and it took everything in him not to look over. However, conversation with her felt natural, laughter coming out easily, just as it did with you. Maybe, just maybe, the void you left could be filled. 

======

The weekend continued with Max popping up randomly in Carlos’ garage. It irritated you to no extent that you couldn’t predict when he’d appear, giving yourself a taste of what everyone else felt last season. He seemed to have a knack for showing up right when you got into a groove, your focus sharp and your shots framed perfectly. 

On Saturday afternoon, you were deep in concentration, capturing the mechanics as they fine-tuned Carlos’ car, when you caught a glimpse of Max out of the corner of your eye. He leaned casually against the wall, chatting with a few of Carlos’ crew members, laughter spilling from his lips. It felt like a dagger to your gut - so effortless, so carefree. 

You clenched your jaw, trying to focus on your work. The work you shouldn’t even be doing, but Isabella was MIA. Knowing the content needed to be out sooner rather than later, you stepped in. But now, you were regretting your choices. 

With every burst of laughter from Max, your heart sank deeper. You shifted your position, framing a shot of Carlos as he animatedly discussed tire strategy, but your mind kept shifting back to Max. Why did he have to be here, looking so at ease, while you felt like you were drowning in confusion?

“Hey, are you alright?” Annalese appeared beside you, her voice cutting through your spiral of thoughts 

You forced a nod, your gaze still locked on Max “Yeah, just doing a little extra work” 

At the sound of your voice, Max’s head turned. His eyes met yours, and suddenly you felt like you were going to puke. As quick as he made eye contact, you broke it, turning back to the car in front of you. 

“Right. Just work.” Annalease said, raising an eyebrow

You sighed, your next words quieter than before “I just don’t get why he’s here” 

Confusion crossed on your boss’s face, “Who? Max?” 

“Yeah, I mean Isabella isn’t even here” you added 

“What does that have to do with anything?” She asked, genuinely puzzled 

You turned your head to look at Annalese, genuine surprise on your face. “No one told you? I thought once it hit the mechanics, they’d be telling everyone” 

You recounted the night in Monaco, just quiet enough so the Dutchman wouldn’t hear from the garage entrance. With every added detail, Annalese’s emotions switched from confusion, to anger, then finally settled on pure pity. 

“I can’t believe he just waltzed in here after that” Annalese said, her voice low, eyes narrowed at Max as he laughed again with the crew. “That’s… seriously messed up”

You nodded, feeling a weight settle in your chest. “Right? It’s like he thinks he can just pretend everything is fine, that nothing happened.” 

“People are complicated” she reminded “But that doesn’t mean he gets a free pass to show up here, especially with Isabella missing. It’s just inconsiderate” 

“I’m just trying to get this content done, then going back over to Charles’ side of the garage” you said, frustration peeking through your words “But every time I see him, I lose my focus. It’s like he’s some kind of distraction.”

“Maybe he is” Annalese muttered “But you need to take care of yourself first”

You watched as Max leaned in closer to one of the mechanics, his smile wide and disarming. “Easier said than done,” you muttered. “Every time I look at him, I remember that night. I can’t just turn that off.” 

“Then don’t” Annalese’s tone shifted, more supportive now. “Use it. Capture what you’re feeling. It could make for some powerful content.” 

“Powerful?” you asked, skepticism creeping in.

“Raw. Real. People want to see the truth behind the glitz and glam of racing. If you’re feeling something, channel that into your work.” 

Taking a deep breath, you focused on Carlos again, his passion lighting up the garage. You adjusted your lens, trying to frame the chaos, the energy, the underlying tension. Maybe if you captured that, it would help clear the fog. 

But just as you were starting to find your rhythm again, you heard Max’s voice cut through the air, directing some joke at you. His words were quickly replaced by the sound of your camera shutter, capturing the moment between the Dutchman and the Spaniard. 

You pressed the playback button, getting a look at what you just shot. The mechanics moving around the garage framed the two drivers in the photo, but what truly caught your eye was the growing tension on Max’s face with each camera click. Looking up from your camera, you could see why. 

Logan had joined Max and Carlos, his presence instantly shifting the atmosphere. Logan was usually easy going, getting along with the rest of the grid, but as he talked, you could see Max’s confident demeanor crack just a bit. It was refreshing to see the two time world champion falter, but you couldn’t understand how a rookie was the reason. 

======

To the surprise of absolutely no one, Max crossed the finish line far before anyone else. Charles and Logan followed behind, completing the podium. While you were thankful that Charles did well, you weren’t looking forward to seeing Max on the top step for the fifth race in a row. 

You trudged over to parc ferme, just as Max was pulling up the car. Thankfully, he was too busy getting out of the car and celebrating with his team to see you with Charles. Clicks of the camera filled the air as Charles got out of the car, throwing up two fingers as he walked over to you, his eyes crinkling through his helmet. 

“Congrats!” You said, moving the camera from your face, revealing a grin

“Thank you, thank you.” He replied, embracing you in a quick hug before going to congratulate the other drivers on their finishes.

You snapped a few photos of Charles talking with Logan, both guys animatedly gesturing their experiences on the track. As Charles moved to Max, Logan turned his attention to you, his smile beaming brighter than before. 

“Congrats Logan!” you practically yelled as you ran over to your friend 

He engulfed you in a bear hug, squeezing you slightly. “Thank you, y/n. I can’t believe it’s the first one” 

“First of hopefully many to come” you replied as you separated from him. “You deserve it Logan, you’ve earned it” 

You didn’t know Max was watching you as you continued your conversation with Logan. He didn’t want you to know he analyzed every inch of your face as your emotions changed. He didn’t want you to know that you had the same look on your face that you did in the hotel in Baku. He didn’t want you to know that he knew that you were in love with Logan. 

You glanced over your shoulder, checking to see if Charles was doing anything photo worthy, only to get a glimpse of Max with his team. He had his eyes on you already, the look in his eye sent a mix of confusion and annoyance through you. He shouldn’t be looking. His fling was twenty feet away in the other direction, also donning Ferrari red. 

Thankfully, the three drivers were forced through the post race interviews and to the cooldown room before you snapped on Max for staring. You found yourself a spot under the podium, perfect for capturing photos of your two friends as they celebrated. Isabella squeezed in to your left, a lovestruck smile on her face. 

“Good race, wasn’t it?” you spoke, trying to be as friendly as you could

She nodded enthusiastically, impatiently waiting for the Dutchman to come out. “Absolutely! I mean he just dominated out there!” 

You nodded, unsure of what to say in response. Annalese was to your right, giving you someone else to talk to as you waited. The two of you chatted for a bit until you lifted your camera again, getting shots of Logan and Charles as they walked out.

Letting Isabella stand next to you was a bad idea. The second Max walked out, his eyes were glued in your direction. You knew he was looking at her. There was no doubt about that. But for him to get all smiley and crinkly eyed while looking near you? It made you sick. 

“Can they just play the damn song and move on?” You muttered to Annalese, causing her to burst out in laughter during the trophy presentation. 

“You’ll be back in your hotel soon, don’t worry” Annalese reassured

Marina Bay, Singapore

It was no secret that Carlos was having a hell of a weekend. He already topped the free practice sessions, and took pole position, which sent excitement rippling through the Ferrari garage. The energy in the air was palpable with hope and anticipation as the team prepared for the race. 

So far, most of your weekend was spent running back and forth between the two red terminals, much to your dismay. Coming into the weekend, you were under the impression you would only be with Charles, but a certain brunette went missing for randomly long periods of time yet again. 

“Have you seen Isabella?” Annalese asked as she walked into Carlos’ garage

“If I did, do you think I’d be here?” You retorted, not breaking your concentration on the shot you lined up. Carlos was in deep conversation with his engineers, the intensity of the moment reflected in his face. 

You didn’t have to look to know Annalese rolled her eyes “Fair point. Do you know where she’s been? This is the third time today.” 

“My money is Red Bull” you answered “Y’know, with the two of them sucking each other’s faces off for the past few months.” 

Annalese chuckled, shaking her head “I did not need that image in my head. But she needs to get her act together. I can’t have one of my photographers slacking and spending time in a rival garage.” 

“Tell that to her, not me” you muttered, turning your attention back to Carlos, who was now finishing up with his team. 

“Yeah, you’re at least quick with your trips down to Williams” 

Once again, you tore your focus from your camera to focus on your boss. Your eyebrows furrowed as you took in her words. “What do you mean? I’m rarely down there.” 

It was Annalese’s turn to be confused “Oh I thought with you and Logan-.”

“What? Oh no. Logan and I aren’t - we’re just good friends” you clarified 

“Oh, my bad. I’ve seen you and Logan together a lot recently. I thought something was starting” Annalese apologized. 

“You’re all good. But after everything with Max, I think I’ve sworn off liking drivers” you said “They’re too much for me.” 

“Fair enough” Annalese replied, her tone turning more serious as she watched Carlos. “Just keep an eye on Isabella. If she’s going to be absent, I need to know so I can plan accordingly. Carlos’ photos aren’t your responsibility.” 

“Yeah, I’ll keep an eye out for her” you said

As the sunset in the sky and the race drew nearer, the energy in both of the Ferrari garages grew. You were in Charles’ garage, capturing the last moments before the cars went out on track. Just as you were about to make your way out to the track, you noticed Isabella finally striding in, a flustered look on her face. 

“Look what the cat dragged in” you called, getting Isabella’s attention. “Where have you been?” 

“Long story, but I got some great shots in the Red Bull garage” she replied, slightly out of breath and a sheepish grin forming on her face. 

It took every bone in your body not to storm down to the Red Bull garages and give Max a piece of your mind then and there. Instead, you pushed the thoughts to the back of your mind. There was a job to be done. 

You exchanged a look with Annalese, who raised an eyebrow. “Alright, just don’t let it happen again.” she said “We need all hands on deck everyday.” 

“Trust me, it won’t.” Isabella assured, her tone more serious now. “I won’t get distracted again”

Isabella made her way to the back of the garage, presumably to change out her SD cards. As you watched, you couldn’t help but wonder what caused the sudden shift. And you wouldn’t be surprised if Max was somehow linked to it. 

======

As everyone hoped, Carlos ended up on the top step of the podium, completing his weekend sweep. Everyone in red was on cloud nine, and for the first time since Azerbaijan, you didn’t hear your country’s national anthem.  

The celebrations in the paddock were long done for the day as you made your way out of the Ferrari motorhome. You didn’t wrap up until late into the night, so you were expecting to be the only one still left, but to your surprise, a familiar Dutchman was also still around. 

You don’t know if it was the amount of champagne you accidentally ingested during the celebrations, or if it was Isabella’s actions earlier, but something within you caused you to speak. 

“Fancy seeing you here” you said, trying to keep your tone light despite the swirl of emotions inside you. Max was leaning against the wall of the Energy Station, a bottle of water in hand, looking at something on his phone. 

He glanced up, surprise flashing across his face for a second before returning to his normal indifferent stare. “Hey. Congrats on the win”

Your eyebrows furrowed in fake confusion as you stopped next to him “What did I win? I just took photos” 

“You know what I mean” Max mumbled, rolling his eyes, though a small smirk formed on his lips “But Carlos looked really strong, he deserved the win, and the celebration.” 

“Oh he’s getting every bit of celebration he can. I can’t count how many times I’ve heard Smooth Operator today” you chuckled, the memory of the Spaniard dancing to the music replaying in your head. 

Awkward tension hung in the air, neither of you sure what to say next. You looked around the dim paddock, for any idea of a talking point. It wasn’t until you noticed the darkness in the Energy Station that you spoke again. “What’re you even still doing here?” 

“Just unwinding after a long day. Needed the extra time to get out. You know how exhausting this track is” he explained, but by the way he was fiddling with his bottle and refusing to make eye contact, you knew he wasn’t telling the truth. 

Your eyes narrowed as you made eye contact with him, a swirl of suspicion and hurt forming in your chest. “You’re waiting for Isabella aren’t you?” 

Max paused, his gaze darting away for a moment before meeting your eyes again “I mean, I wouldn’t say I’m specifically waiting for her,” he said, but the slight hesitation in his voice gave it away.

“You know I’m not as dumb as I look, right?” you asked, a small smile forced onto your lips “I know you two are together. I’m happy for you, you deserve it” Your stomach churned as you spoke. Each word felt like a knife twisting deeper, but you couldn’t let him see how much it hurt.

Max’s expression shifted,  gratitude and relief mingling in his eyes, only deeping the pain. “Thanks. It’s nice to hear that” 

“But you better not steal her from Ferrari any more, Annalese might have your head on a spike” you joked, but a warning tone lingered underneath. Max chuckled slightly, but the tension in his shoulders remained. 

“Well she’s an adult, she can make her own decisions” Max shrugged, a hint of definane in his tone, seemingly indifferent to the fact that she only has access to the paddock because of her job. 

You crossed your arms as you spoke. “An adult who is employed. She needs to do her job” you countered, your voice firm yet wavering slightly, desperate for him to understand the reality of the situation.

“Oh like you do your job all the time” Max shot back, rolling his eyes with a smirk that felt more like a jab “I’ve seen you running around a lot with Logan. Seems like you have a type.”  

Your heart raced, confusion mixing with anger, “Max, what are you talking abou-”

“Don’t play dumb” he interrupted, his expression hardening as the tension grew dramatically “Everyone sees how you act around him.”

You felt your cheeks flush at his words, a mix of embarrassment and irritation flooding through you. “I’m not playing dumb” you shot back, trying to regain control of the conversation. “Logan and I are friends. It’s not my fault he’s actually nice to be around” 

“Nice, huh?” Max raised an eyebrow, though his eyes were red with anger “He’s giving you something nice, for sure” 

“Are you serious?” you asked, exasperated “You’re really going to stand there and accuse me of sleeping with one of my best friends?” 

“I’m not accusing you of anything” he replied, an indifferent mask suddenly plastered on his face, a clear facade that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m just saying you get close to drivers in a way that makes people talk.” 

“And it’s just that, Max. It’s just talk. The same stupid rumors that were flown around when you and I were close friends. The same stupid rumors that meant absolutely nothing, because it was just nothing.” you bit back, your voice rising in frustration.

“So you’re saying it’s still nothing?” Max challenged, his tone sharp “You really thought people wouldn’t notice just how cozy you and Logan are? You’re not fooling anyone.” 

“Maybe I don’t need to fool anyone” you snapped, pure adrenaline fueling your words “Maybe I’m more comfortable in my friendships with drivers than you are in your relationship with a Ferrari photographer who happens to look like me.” 

Max’s expression darkened at your words, a mix of anger and hurt flashing across his face. “That’s low,” he said quietly, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air.

“Weird, isn’t it? Facing the truth” you said, your voice steadier than you felt, trying to anchor yourself amongst the rising tension.

You took a step away from Max, and then another. The space between you felt charged, like a wire ready to snap. You didn’t want to back down, but your words lingered, creating a chasm between you.

Max’s eyes darted around your face, looking for any signs of an emotion other than anger, only stopping when he saw your lips. He wanted nothing more than to pull you in and kiss you. He wanted to tell you that you were all that he wanted, and no one could ever come close.

But he couldn’t. He was waiting for Isabella. 

And you almost wanted it too. You almost wanted him to tell you Isabella meant nothing. That it was all just some silly plan to try and get over you. You almost wanted him to confess he had been madly in love with you since you first reconnected last year. 

But he wouldn’t. He was waiting for Isabella. 

So, you turned any longing you had left into anger. Your fists clenched, dying to take a swing at the man in front of you. You wanted to show just how much pain he caused you through his actions, through his words. 

But you shouldn’t. You would lose your job if you did. 

And so, you walked away. You unclenched your fist, and walked away. Each step echoed the unresolved mess. The night air was cool against your skin, but inside, there was a mixture of liberation and lingering frustration. Though you said what needed to be said, the ache of unspoken feelings still hung in the air, heavy in your chest as you left him behind. 

Austin, USA

The events of the Japan and Qatar Grand Prixs were nearly identical: Charles qualifying within the top five, having a strong start, a poor strategy messing up his race, and hearing the Dutch National Anthem in the distance. It didn’t help that to top it all off, Red Bull had secured the Constructors Championship and Max had secured the Driver’s Championship with ease. The team needed a morale booster, and Austin was the place to try and do it. 

“I feel absolutely ridiculous” you said as you stood in the paddock entrance, waiting to capture Charles’ arrival for media day. 

He had convinced you to go all out with him and dress up for media day. Your hair was folded into two braids, and a cowboy hat rested on your head. A red bandana was tied around your neck, matching the bright red Ferrari polo that was hiding under your jean jacket. You glanced at yourself in the reflection of a nearby window, half-amused and half-embarrassed. 

“What’re you talking about? You look amazing” Annalese teased “You fit in with the locals” 

Your eyes scanned the area, only to find absolutely no one dressed like you. “Yeah, because the locals are dressed like a walking cliche” you muttered 

“Okay you don’t look that ridiculous” she said “Plus, Charles definitely needs the boost” 

As if on cue, you heard the beep of a paddock pass being scanned. Looking to the gates, Charles was walking through the turnstiles, donning a black cowboy hat, black bandana, and dark blue jean jacket. 

“There’s my partner in crime!” He called as you captured a few photos of him walking up to you, a goofy grin plastered on his face. “You look amazing” 

“Thanks” you replied, slight embarrassment still in your voice “I do feel a bit silly”

“At least you’re not the one in front of the camera” Charles chuckled.

Annalese and yourself walked with Charles down the paddock towards the media areas. To no surprise, all eyes were on the driver as he walked with such confidence. Fans and staff alike had their attention on Charles. Thankfully, any worry about looking ridiculous washed away as the three of you joked your way through the paddock. 

After a quick stop in the Ferrari motorhome, the three of you finally made it to the media pen. A few of the other drivers were already there, including the Alpine boys, and Max. For it being early in the morning, the atmosphere was lively, as reporters were prepping their questions. 

You and Annalese hung towards the back of the pen, being sure not to get in any of the drivers' ways as they approached the barriers. As Charles and Max talked to the media, you watched intently, each of the boys differed with how they answered the long list of questions. 

Charles, as always, had an easygoing charm, answering each question with a relaxed but thoughtful demeanor. He was clearly comfortable in the media spotlight, using humor to deflect some of the tougher questions while staying focused on the bigger picture for Ferrari. 

Across the pen was Max, who was standing a little more rigidly, with his arms crossed, answering questions with that signature confidence that was almost always tinged with a bit of confidence. Even though both championships were already on lock, there was no sign of complacency in his posture. 

A reporter threw him a question about the team’s performance, and Max’s response was sharp and succinct. “We’ve done what we’ve needed to do this season. It’s been a solid year, and I’m happy with the results. But we’re always looking to improve, even when things are going well.” 

His tone was calm, but there was an underlying intensity that you knew too well. Sure, you had heard it time and time again in his interviews, but it was also the same intensity you heard in Singapore. It was the same bitterness and anger that was bubbling under the surface. 

Max knew you were mere feet behind him. He knew you could hear every single word he was saying. He knew you dressed in that stupid little cowgirl outfit so Charles wouldn’t be the only one in the paddock looking ridiculous, but god did you pull it off. 

As his interview wrapped up, you saw how Max’s eyes flickered danced around the room scanning it before landing on you. There was a slight glint in his eyes, almost telling that he was aware of everything - the outfit, the mood, the tension, and maybe even the unspoken distance between you two. And when his gaze met yours, the glint disappeared. There was no warmth, no acknowledgement - just a cold, unreadable look. 

You shifted your feet, suddenly very aware of the hat perched on your head and the bandana around your neck. You’d done this for Charles. Just for Charles. 

“Everything alright?” Annalese asked, noticing your stiff posture. You hadn’t realized you’d tensed up until she spoke. 

“Yeah, just Max is… being Max.” You didn’t elaborate. There wasn’t much else to say. 

Max was always intense with the media, but today it felt like something else - something deeper than just the team. Maybe it was the contrast between his icy exterior and the warmth of Charles, or maybe it was his sheer competitiveness, which never seemed to wane. But it felt almost like he was throwing down a silent challenge.

Annalese raised an eyebrow, “Max still has a way of making everything seem personal, huh?” 

“Yeah” you couldn’t seem to hide the bitterness in your voice. Personal wasn’t the word you would have chosen, but it was close enough. The fact that he could unsettle you with a glance, that he could turn something as simple as an interview into a moment of quiet conflict, was maddening. 

But you didn’t have time to dwell on it. Charles was finishing up his own interview now, his easygoing smile still in place, though you could see the familiar exhaustion behind it. When you first started with the team, you would be shocked at how tired he got after each interview. But now that you’ve been here for a while, you couldn’t go a day without seeing it. 

“Ready to get out of here?” Charles asked, walking over with a lighthearted air, completely oblivious to the tension that seemed to hang around. 

“Absolutely” you gave him a quick smile, happy to leave the heavy atmosphere of the media pen behind. But even as you turned to walk with him, a part of you lingered on Max’s last words. We’re always looking to improve, even when things are going well.

======

You honestly weren’t sure how it happened. You were minding your business in the Ferrari motorhome, editing your content from media day when Annalese approached you, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. She knew something you didn’t, and you were about to find out, whether you liked it or not. 

“Hey, you free for a second?” she asked, leaning against a doorframe, arms crossed, the usual casual confidence about her. 

You looked up from your laptop, blinking a few times as you tried to piece together whether she was being serious or just teasing. “Sure, what’s up?” 

She raised an eyebrow, then glanced over her shoulder, making sure no one else was nearby. “So, you’re familiar with Drive to Survive, right?” 

“The Netflix show? Yeah. What about it?” you asked, sitting up a little bit more. 

Annalese smirked “Well, they’re filming the weekend in Austin. They’ve been bouncing around the teams trying to get some sort of exciting story line.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed, confused as to what she was getting at “What does that have to do with me?” 

“After talking with a few of us, they learned you do a lot of behind the scenes footage and are good friends with a handful of the guys” she explained “And they were wondering if you’d be willing to be followed around and interviewed for a bit. 

You blinked a few times, trying to process what Annalese was saying. “They want me to be on camera?” 

She gave you a knowing look, her smirk widening. “Yep. They’re apparently looking for someone with your kind of insight - someone who isn’t just a part of the circus but actually gets the day-to-day stuff. And since you’re always with the drivers and the team, it seemed like a good fit. Plus your following is going to help boost their viewers.” 

“And you think this is a good idea?” you asked cautiously, trying to get a read on her expression. “What if it all blows up in my face? Or what if it messes up my work?” 

Annalese leaned forward slightly, her expression softening, more earnest now. “Look, I get it. It’s a lot. But think about it. You know I wouldn’t push you into something if I didn’t think you could handle it.” 

You hesitated for a long moment, lingering on Annalese’s words. Finally, you let out a deep sigh. “Okay, fine. I’ll do it. But if this all goes to hell, I’m blaming you.” 

And that’s how you found yourself sitting in a room in the bowels of the paddock, away from the normal hustle and bustle of the morning of qualifying. You were the only one in a team’s gear, everyone else around you had their clothes embroidered with Netflix, leaving you to be the odd one out. 

The lights were bright, and the crew around you looked more prepared for a Hollywood film than a race weekend in Austin. One of the producers had mic’d you up, and was sitting on the other side of the camera from you. 

“Okay, y/n. Just state your name, and your role with the team please” She said, a warm smile on her face 

“Should I look at you, or look at the camera when I talk?” you asked, your eyebrows furrowing

“Looking at me is perfectly fine” She answered 

You nodded, shifting slightly in your seat to try and relax, though the sensation of being under the spotlight was unmistakable. This was real. You were being filmed. There was no turning back now. 

Taking a deep breath, your eyes locked on the producer. “I’m y/n l/n, and I’m a photographer and content creator for Scuderia Ferrari. I also do personal content creation on the side.” 

The producer gave you a quick thumbs up, and gestured for you to keep going. “Great! Now, just tell us a little bit about your role in the paddock and what a typical weekend looks like for you.” 

You thought for a moment before speaking. You walked the producer through your day to day life as best as you could, as no weekend was truly the same. Being a team player and focusing on getting the best shots rolled off your tongue. The more you talked, the more relaxed you got. 

The producer seemed to notice, as her smile grew a bit bigger. “Sounds like you’ve got a good handle on it. So, you’re clearly around the drivers a lot. What’s your relationship like with them?” 

You couldn’t help but glance at the camera, knowing it would probably capture the slight shift in your expression. Talking about the drivers was… complicated. Max especially. He was still fresh in your mind, after everything that’s happened over the course of the last season and a half. You could feel the familiar unease bubble up, but you kept your tone even. 

“Well, I’m lucky enough to work with a few of them closely. Obviously, I spend a lot of time with Charles and Carlos. Charles especially out of the two - he’s always easy to talk to, a real pro, and I think we’ve got a good understanding of how to work together. I’m not in Carlos’ garage as much, but every time I’ve been with him or working with him, he’s been lovely. Both of the guys are real team players.” 

The interview continued as you talked about the highs and lows of Formula 1. You rambled about the trials and tribulations of your job, but how they’re all worth it in the long run. The producer asked a little bit about your own personal content creation, and how you’ve been able to get an audience of girls interested and involved in motorsports. 

The producer then glanced toward the camera crew, signaling that she was ready for the next phase of filming. “Alright, y/n, you’re doing great. We’re going to switch gears now and get a bit more personal. Is that alright?” 

You nodded, though a flicker of uncertainty crossed your mind. Personal? What did she mean by that? 

“Of course, what do you need?” you asked, trying to sound relaxed. 

The producer tilted her head thoughtfully. “We’ve heard some rumors - nothing too crazy - but we’d love to get your thoughts on what it’s like to be close to the drivers, especially in such a high-stakes environment. How do you manage those relationships?”

A little caught off guard, you instinctively glanced toward the camera before responding, your voice a bit steadier than you felt inside. “I think it’s a balancing act. You want to remain professional, but at the same time, you’re still human. You get to know these guys, you become part of their routine. You seem them under pressure, stressed out, and sometimes you’re right there in the middle of it all.” You paused, letting your thoughts settle. “The pressure can definitely build up. But that’s why it’s important to have boundaries. They’re still my friends, but I’ve got to keep that line between being a colleague and a friend.” 

The producer’s eyes glinted, clearly recognizing the deeper meaning in your words. “Sounds like there’s a lot of emotional juggling involved. Does any of it change when you factor in your relationship with Max?” 

The question hung in the air like a weight, and you immediately felt your stomach tighten. The last thing you wanted to do was delve into anything personal about Max. It had been a complicated relationship - sometimes friendly, sometimes strained. Right now, you weren’t even sure if you had a relationship with the man. The last thing you wanted was to make it seem like there was anything more there than what everyone already saw on the surface.

You took a deep breath, hoping to keep your composure. “Max… well, Max is an interesting case. He’s always been intense. He’s been that way since grade school. Everything’s always full throttle, all the time - whether it’s racing or his personal life. That kind of energy, that drive, it’s both impressive and a little exhausting. But that’s Max. And I get it, I do. I respect it, even if it’s a bit much at times.” 

Part of you knew you had to put on a facade while talking about Max. The world couldn’t know the shitshow that was truly hiding behind the scenes. But the other part of you didn’t need to fake it. Even though you wanted to kick Max into the next dimension, you still had such a respect for him.  

The producer jotted down a few notes, clearly intrigued. A smirk then danced on her face as he looked up from her paper, and you knew you were in for something. 

“Is it harder to separate the personal and professional sides of your relationship with Max, especially with the public watching?” 

Your heart skipped a beat at the question. It felt like the room had just gotten a little bit smaller. The public always wanted something - something they could latch onto, something they could analyze - and Max and yourself were prime targets. The last thing you wanted was to give them any more ammunition. 

“I mean there’s definitely noise from the outside - fans, media - everyone has an opinion. And sometimes it’s hard not to let that affect you. So I don’t think it’s harder to separate it with Max, but rather different. With him now being a three time World Champion and to know him so long, it always feels like the whole world is watching every interaction. But at the end of the day, he’s still a Formula 1 driver, and I’m still a photographer. Everyone here is just someone doing their job, and no matter how much the world watches, I have to only focus on what I can control.” 

The smirk on the producer’s lips turned into a genuine smile, clearly satisfied with your response. However, her eyes flickered with something else - a sense of realization. She jotted down another note and nodded thoughtfully. 

“Alright, I think that gives us a solid idea of where things stand. We’ll be capturing some more dynamics in the paddock, but I really appreciate your openness today, y/n. You handled the interview like a pro. We’ll catch up with you later today and tomorrow to film a bit of you in action.”

You exhaled slowly, glad the conversation had taken a turn away from the more personal aspects. As much as you valued your relationships with all of the drivers, it wasn’t something you were keen on oversharing, especially not in front of the cameras, and especially not about Max. 

As you left the room, you felt a slight sense of relief washed over you. The interview was over. The questions had been answered. But something about that last exchange - about Max - lingered in the back of your mind. You weren’t sure if you managed to keep the mask in place completely, but you hoped the world would see it as nothing more than professional boundaries being drawn, not an ongoing emotional tug-of-war. 

Doubts quickly swirled in your mind as you walked. Were the boundaries that you set good enough? Was it a mistake to even mention them? Why did everything always have to come back to Max? 

There was only one person in the paddock that could soothe your uncertainties. Only one person who knew exactly what to say to make you feel at least a bit better. You made a quick detour past the Ferrari motorhome, your eyes scanning for a certain driver in blue. When you caught sight of him, you darted towards him. 

“I’m not taking advantage of you, am I?” 

Logan’s head whipped around when he heard your voice, confusion plastered on his face. He blinked, clearly taken aback by your sudden appearance and the directness of your question. For a moment, he stood frozen, his brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of what you’d just said. 

“Wait, what?” he finally asked, his voice tinged with a mix of surprise and concern. “What’re you talking about?” 

You ran a hand through your hair, wanting to explain yourself without sounding like a total mess. “I just - look. I just finished that interview, and they asked me some stuff about Max, and now I’m spiraling a bit. It’s complicated… you know? The whole thing. And there’s this weird pressure, like I’m walking a fine line, and I’m not sure if I’m doing it right. So I-” 

Logan placed a hand on your shoulder, giving you a reassuring smile that calmed you more than you’d like to admit. “You’re not making any sense, but I’m guessing you’re worried what people are going to think, and that Max is going to go ape shit on you again, right?” he said softly, his tone light, but understanding. 

You exhaled deeply, “Yeah. I- they asked about Max and I wasn’t prepared for it, and it’s just hard to explain anything without it sounding more personal than it is. I don’t want to give the impression that there’s anything more between us, especially with him and Isabella being a thing or whatever.”

Logan’s expression softened. “Y/n. We both know how the media can twist things, especially with a guy like Max, but I can guarantee you’re not doing anything to give the idea that there’s more than just two people doing their jobs. You’re doing a better job at keeping everything with him private than most.” he said, his voice almost hinting at something.

“What are you talking about?” you asked, confusion now filtering in your tone

“You mean you didn’t see what she posted earlier?” Logan asked, slightly amused 

“Logan, I was just in a dark room getting interrogated for forty minutes. I haven’t seen anything.” you reminded him.

He pulled out his phone, tapping on Instagram and finding Isabella's profile. A few months ago, he had mentioned she followed him almost immediately after meeting him in Bahrain. He eventually turned the screen toward you, where a photo of Isabella chatting with Sophie and Jos was posted on her story. 

“No way” you finally got out, disbelief dripped in your words. “Catching up with the best!” you read off of the screen.

“Yep. She’s really not shy about it.” Logan replied

Your fingers rubbed against your forehead, trying to process everything that was going on. “I swear she never ceases to amaze me.” 

“Right?” he agreed, glancing at his phone once again to check the time. “I’m so sorry but I need to get to the garage before qualifying starts” 

You nodded, knowing damn well you should have been in yours about five minutes ago. “All good. I’ll see you around.”

“Oh we'll be texting each other the second the session is done” he chuckled, though you knew he wasn’t kidding “If you ever need to vent, let me know. You know where to find me.” 

With one final hug, Logan turned back towards the paddock, making his way to Williams. You watched him go for a moment, feeling strangely grounded, before you continued on your way. 

And Logan was right. When qualifying ended, his name was the first one to pop up on your phone. 

Monte Carlo, Monaco

The triple header in the Americas could not have gone any worse for Charles. A P3 finish fell between a disqualification and failing to start, but it didn’t come without damage to the car. It was safe to say that Ferrari, along with a few of the other drivers, welcomed the short break before going to Las Vegas. 

Thankfully, you hadn’t run into Max and Isabella during the time off. According to her social media, they had also flown back to Monaco for a bit, before they jetted off to Spain. That was fine by you, the further away, the lower the chance for you to see them. 

Yourself, along with Logan, Oscar, Alex, Pierre, Alexandra and Kika were in Charles and Alexandra’s apartment. The eight of you often found yourselves there, with most of you living in Monaco already, and Logan and Oscar happy to make the short flight from the UK. Multiple bottles of various alcohols had already been cracked open, and the remnants of beer cans were scattered around. 

Charles and Alexandra had made themselves comfortable on their couch, with Alexandra’s hand placed gently on her boyfriend’s thigh. Pierre and Kika were on the loveseat, with Kika playfully tossing her empty seltzer can at Pierre, the aluminum hitting him square in the face. Oscar and Alex were in the kitchen, trying to find another bottle of something to open. 

Too many drinks later, you found yourself sitting on the floor, tucked against Logan. The arm that didn’t have a bottle of Corona attached to it was lazily draped over your shoulder while you were nursing the bottom of a seltzer can. You weren’t entirely sure how it happened, but at some point in the evening you had ended up close to him, his side pressed against yours as you both lounged on the floor in the middle of the action. 

Logan’s fingers traced the fabric of your shirt as he tilted his head back, watching the others with a half-smile. For the first time in a long time, everything felt…easy. You could feel the weight of everything that had been building up in your mind, the endless questions about boundaries and relationships, the complexities of being so close to this world, and yet trying to stay on the sidelines. For the first time in a while, you weren’t worrying about any of it. 

“Are you trying to hypnotize me with your fingers, or is that just how you relax?” you asked lightly, breaking the quiet tension.

Logan’s eyes flicked down to you, and for a split second, you could see the amusement in his gaze before he shrugged, a lazy smile pulling at his lips. “Maybe both” he teased, his thumb moving slightly to catch a stray lock of your hair that had fallen into your face. “Is it working?”

You rolled your eyes, but the soft blush creeping up your neck betrayed you. “I don’t know about hypnotizing, but it’s definitely… distracting” you muttered, trying to keep your voice steady. 

Logan chuckled, the sound rich and warm, and leaned back slightly, pulling you closer without a second thought. His body was warm next to yours, his presence now inescapable as his arm tightened slightly around you. “I’ll take that as a compliment” he said, his tone teasing but with a hint of something else - something unspoken, something that lingered between you in the air, neither of you quite acknowledging it fully. 

From across the room, you could hear Oscar and Alex laughing about something in the kitchen, their voices rising above the clinking of glass and the low chatter. Pierre and Kika were now in the middle of an exaggerated argument over who ate the last potato chip in the bag. Charles and Alexandra were in hushed conversation as their eyes glanced at the movie playing on the TV. 

You knew Logan. Knew the easygoing confidence that he wore like a second skin. And still, there was something different about the way he was acting tonight Something that made you feel a little unsure. Or maybe, just maybe, it was the other way around. Perhaps it wasn’t him that had changed, but you, starting to notice the things you’d pushed aside for far too long. 

Logan’s chuckle seemed to vibrate through you, warm and low, a sound you could feel more than hear. His voice broke the calm tension again, pulling you out of your thoughts. “You’re being quiet now. That’s not like you.” 

You shifted a little, suddenly aware of the limited space between you, of how easy it was to let the moment carry on. “Just thinking” you muttered, trying to keep the conversation light, to keep things from tipping into something more serious. 

“About what?” His voice was softer now, more curious than teasing. He didn’t let his arm move away from your shoulder, not yet, like it was the easiest thing in the world to have you close. 

You hesitated. You could feel the question pushing down on you, the debate of how much of your inner world you were willing to share right now. Was it too soon? Or was it that Logan, of all people, made it easier to be honest than you’d ever let yourself be?

“It’s just…” you sighed, running a hand through your hair, feeling slightly embarrassed for not letting go of everything, like you usually would when it came to Max. But maybe that was the problem. You weren’t with Max right now. “I’m not sure anymore… where I stand with all of this. With… well, everything”

Logan paid close attention, his usual relaxed demeanor replaced with something more attuned, more patient. His gaze was softer than it had been before. “You mean with Max? And everything that’s been happening with him and Isabella?”

You nodded, your eyes fixed on the can in your hands, unwilling to meet his gaze just yet. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I feel like I’m caught in the middle of something I never asked to be a part of.” you admitted 

Logan didn’t say anything at first, just watched you quietly, but you could see the gears turning behind his eyes. His thumb brushed against your skin again, the contact reassuring, grounding. “You’re not caught in the middle. You just care too much about things that aren’t yours to fix.” His tone was gentle, but there was something firm underneath it, like he was trying to make sure you understood. “You don’t have to be the one who sorts everything out. Sometimes things just… unfold on their own.”

You glanced up at him then, unsure of what you were expecting, but the steadiness of his gaze made you feel lighter somehow. Like maybe he had a point. 

The sound of glass clanking and a chorus of yells brought you back to reality. You and Logan were the only ones left in the living room, as the other four joined Oscar and Alex in the kitchen. 

“I feel like we should go check that out,” you said, standing up from the floor.

Logan agreed, and the two of you made your way into the kitchen. When you stepped inside, the scene in front of you was just as chaotic as you expected. Oscar was holding up a bottle of tequila triumphantly, while Alex and Pierre were in the midst of arguing about if the liquor was “actually drinkable”. Charles was going through his cabinets, trying to find something as Kika and Alexandra were to the side, laughing as they shook their heads. 

You approached the counter, with Logan following suit. As you rested yourself against the cool granite, you felt the warmth of Logan’s body against your back and one of his hands resting on your waist. Kika and Alexandra exchanged glances before raising their eyebrows at you. In response, you shrugged, not wanting to draw any more attention to the driver that was glued to you. 

However, the girls would not let it go. As Logan got wrapped up in the boy’s shenanigans, Kika and Alexandra pulled you into one of the guest rooms. 

“What is going on?” Kika asked, a drunken giggle coming out of her mouth. 

You blinked as the door clicked shut behind you, a momentary wave of confusion sweeping over you. The two girls were leaning against the wall, Kika trying to look serious, but her grin betraying her, while Alexandra simply raised an eyebrow in a knowing way.

“Honestly, I-” you started, but the words caught in your throat. You weren’t exactly sure what you should be saying. It wasn’t like anything happened with Logan - well not yet, anyway - but it felt like there was this subtle undercurrent between you that both Kika and Alexandra were so clearly picking up on. 

“Don’t even try to play innocent” Kika giggled, her voice slurring just a little from the drinks she’d had, but her eyes were sharp. “We’ve been watching you two all night.” 

You glanced at Alexandra, whose arms were crossed but a soft smirk tugged at her lips. “I don’t know what you mean.” you said, though you could feel your face heating up. 

Alexandra wasn’t buying it “Uh-huh. You’re both acting like it’s just another casual hangout, but since when do you two sit that close?” 

You opened your mouth to respond, but Kika cut you off with a playful wave of her hand “Don’t try to play the ‘I don’t know’ card. We’re not blind.” She paused, her eyes narrowing with a mischievous twinkle. “So… what’s the deal? Something’s happening isn’t it?” 

Your stomach twisted slightly at the question. You could feel your heart thumping in your chest a little harder now. Of course, it wasn’t just the alcohol that had made everything feel easier tonight - it was Logan, too. But did that mean anything?

“Nothing’s happened.” you said carefully “We’ve just been hanging out. That’s it”

“Yeah right” Alexandra said, her smirk widening. “You know, you could tell us the truth. You two are practically glued together.”

“It’s just easy with him” you admitted quietly, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “There’s no…pressure, you know? It just feels like… like it should be this way.”

Kika tilted her head, her expression more thoughtful now, her drunk giggles gone for the moment. “So you are into him?” 

You felt your face heat up again. It wasn’t exactly the word you’d use for it, but it seemed like the only way to answer. “I don’t know, honestly. But I guess there’s something about him that’s… different. Makes everything feel easy.” you ran a hand through your hair nervously. “But I’m just not sure where I stand with everything else right now.” 

Alexandra stepped forward, her expression shifted to something more serious. “I get it. You’re trying to figure out if what you’re feeling is real, or if it’s just the situation.” She paused, her gaze soft but intense “You deserve to explore this with him, without holding back. You’ve been in that… other situation with Max for so long, but maybe it’s time to let someone else in.” 

At the mention of his name, you froze. You were instantly transported back to Singapore, that night in the paddock. Seems like you have a type. 

“Don’t you think I’m jumping into something too soon?” you mumbled, suddenly becoming well aware of your hands and the way they fidgeted.

Kika caught your eye, and her expression softened “No one’s saying you need to rush into anything, but it’s okay to let yourself breathe. You’ve been wrapped up in that for too long.” She said, the words shared an understanding. Like they were burdens you were trying to carry, but time to let go of. 

Alexandra leaned in a little, her voice softer now. “Sometimes moments happen when you’re not trying to force them. Just let yourself see where it goes. With him.” 

Barcelona, Spain

The cool Barcelona air hit Max as soon as he made his way out to the balcony of his hotel room. It was a welcome change from the stuffy, heated atmosphere inside, the weight of the day lifting as the wind brushed past his face. The city lights flickered beneath him, painting the streets below with the soft glow of late-night life. 

Isabella had already gone to bed. She had been with him all evening, talking, her hand resting casually on his arm, full attention on him. She had been sweet, supportive, asking how his day went, listening attentively to his thoughts. But despite her presence, despite the affection she had shown, Max felt… disconnected. His interactions with her were starting to feel more like a routine more than anything real. Like he had fallen into a rhythm that wasn’t his own. 

Max wasn’t a stranger to the demands of his relationship. He’d always known Isabella liked to be close, ever since she started popping up in the Red Bull garage, looking for him. But tonight, something about it felt stifling. The worst part was that he didn’t know why. She was everything he had once wanted in a partner - supportive, loyal, there when he needed her. And yet, he stood alone on the balcony in the middle of the night, all he felt was nothing. 

Leaning against the railing, he exhaled a long breath, watching the way the lights of the city seemed to pulse and breathe along with him. But even as the quiet of the night settled in, there was a different kind of noise inside his head. It wasn’t just about Isabella, but about you. The way things had ended in Singapore - the words he had said, the way you had walked away. 

He pulled his phone from his pocket. Max wasn’t sure what he was hoping for anymore, but his thumb tapped through his apps, aimlessly landing on Instagram. 

His mind flashed back to Singapore again. The heat of the moment, the exchange of glances, the accusations that had been thrown with no proof. Then that moment when you walked away. 

Max knew that wasn’t how he wanted things to end. Far from it. He wasn’t good with emotions, he never had been, especially when it came to you. But that wasn’t an excuse. He hadn’t been fair to you. 

He scrolled through his feed absently, his thumb moving without purpose, until he saw a recent post. It was a photo of you - captured in a candid moment, a shot from Brazil. You were laughing with some of the Ferrari mechanics, and even from a distance, the warmth of your eyes was unmistakable. 

It was stupid, he knew. But just seeing it made him ache. He hadn’t meant to go this far. He hadn’t planned on checking up on you. But the post was like a pull - a reminder of something he didn’t want to forget. 

Max tapped the photo, noticing an account was tagged. y/nl/n.jpeg. He knew Lando and Daniel had accounts with similar names, so he tapped. A small part of him almost hoped he wouldn’t find anything. That somehow it would lead to a dead end. But instead, your profile opened in front of him, fun and captivating, just like you. 

The profile picture was you standing on the track in Monaco, your camera in your hand, a confident smirk on your face. Max had seen that smile plenty of times before, felt its warmth, and he realized with a sharp pang in his chest that he missed it. He missed you - the way everything was so easy with you, how he didn’t need to hold anything back. 

He scrolled through the feed, quickly realizing this wasn’t the same account as your personal one. Photos from races around the world, photos that you had taken, were posted. Your face was nowhere to be found, it was only how your lens viewed the world. 

There were photos of sunsets over the racetracks, candid shots of teammates laughing in the paddock, and even pictures of fans in the stands, their faces alight with excitement. He couldn’t help but smile at how well you captured these moments. It was clear you were more than just a bystander; you were present in a way that only someone who truly understood the sport could be. 

He tapped on a picture of a sunset from Austin - one of the most stunning shots Max had ever seen of the Texas sky turning orange and purple, Charles’ car streaking across the horizon. The image was perfectly composed, the light bleeding into the asphalt, and for a moment, Max felt like he was back there, in the heart of the weekend. 

He scrolled through the carousel of photos that were attached. Most of them were of Ferrari, their crew and the cars. But as he scrolled to the last photo, he froze. It was of the RB-19, his RB-19, flying down the track. 

Max’s heart skipped a beat as his eyes fixed on the photo. It was a perfectly timed shot. His car sliced through the corners of the track, the blurred backdrop of the stand giving the image a sense of motion and speed. 

You had taken this photo.

Curiosity piqued as he swiped out of the carousel he was looking at, quickly tapping on another shortly after. He paid little attention to the first handful of photos, but at the end, was a photo of him on the podium in Belgium, drenched in sweat and champagne from the celebrations. 

Max moved onto another carousel. This time, photos from Miami in 2022. Sure enough, at the very end, was a photo of him and Charles embracing each other after the on track battle. 

With every post Max had looked at, there was always a photo of him mixed in somehow. Whether he was in the background, or the main subject, every single post involved him. It was as though you had seen the things he hadn’t let himself feel, capturing the rawness of the moments he had tucked away. 

He managed to scroll all the way to the bottom of your profile, to the very first post you had ever made. They were all photos you had taken as a kid, most likely from the red point and shoot camera you had glued to you. And there, at the very end of the photos was a shot of a little boy Max had known too well. The same photo that had been resting in your photo album for years. The same photo of the little boy that now resided in Max’s wallet. 

That little boy needed to get you back. 

=============================

tagged: @mixedstyles

[vitalverstappen]

Max Verstappen x childhood enemy/Ferrari photographer reader Logan Sargeant x situationship reader

Part One (20.3k) -> Max Verstappen. A name you loathed as a child. But now, years later, your paths cross again. This time, in Formula 1.

Part Two (24.7k) -> A new coworker shouldn't make you this mad. You and Max are friends. Just friends. Nothing more, maybe less.

Part Three (28.1k) -> You're happy. Max is happy... you think. But that's the way it should be, right?

blurbs: Quietly Yours (2.3k) -> navigating the paddock with a secret romance isn't easy. unfortunately, Charles can't keep a secret to save his life.

[vitalverstappen]

Flash Forward - M. Verstappen (part three)

summary: The world of F1 is never easy. Throw in your childhood enemy, a new coworker you can't quite get a read on and a new situationship? You're in for a wild season.

pairing: Max Verstappen x fem!reader (Ferrari photographer, graffiti artist, childhood enemies), Charles Leclerc x platonic fem!reader, Logan Sargeant x situationship fem!reader

warnings: swearing, drinking, allusions to sex (no smut), brief mentions of Max's childhood, angst, use of y/n

a/n: i cannot believe i'm finally done with this series. taking max and y/n through three F1 seasons was a whirlwind but i'm so happy the entire story is yours. knowing me, i may do small little blurbs with them in the future, as i don't think i'll be able to part with them for very long. also this was written before Logan's ELMS announcement.

word count: 28.1k

masterlist

part one // part two

Monte Carlo, Monaco 

You woke up to the soft weight of blankets wrapped around you, the familiar warmth of Logan’s body pressed against yours. The subtle rise and fall of his chest against your back was grounding, comforting even. His arm was lazily draped across your waist, fingers just grazing the edge of your ribs under the shirt you had stolen from him. 

Both of you had been taking it slow. Real slow. Your connection caught in the limbo between friends and something more - something you weren’t ready to name, even if the moments almost felt like it. The dinners that went on a little longer than they should have, Logan insisting on covering the bill, the excuse to stay over just one more night, because it was better than going home alone. The stolen kisses, the way his lips pressed against yours unexpectedly, tentatively, like he was testing the waters. It was all there - the signs, the quiet gestures, the closeness that seemed to build every time you were together. 

But you hadn’t defined it, not really, not in the way it felt like it needed to be. No titles. No labels. Just two people slowly getting to know each other on a more intimate level, waiting for the other to make the first move. 

And that was fine by you. In fact, you preferred it. 

While your artwork was a different story, you had never been one to rush into romance. The last two years with Max had been an exception. Max had been a whirlwind. A rush of emotions that left you dizzy, breathless, and swept up in decisions that came too fast. You hadn’t been ready for all of that, but you didn’t know any better at the time. 

But Logan? There was no urgency, no rush. Everything happened exactly as it should - slow, stress free, like a puzzle you pieced together, one small moment at a time. It felt easy. It felt right. 

After you placed a small peck on his skin, you wriggled out of Logan’s grasp. His arm shifted a little, but he didn’t wake. 

You made your way to the kitchen to make breakfast. Logan was obsessed with Carlos’ pancake recipe, and it had quickly become a Sunday morning tradition between you two. Whenever he stayed over, it was pancakes, coffee, and conversations about anything and everything. So, you grabbed the flour, the eggs, the vanilla, and of course, the honey. 

The scent of pancakes always made you feel cozy, even before the first bite. You also adored mornings like this, quiet and slow, where the world outside was just waking up, and inside, there was only the soft hum of your Spotify playlist and the sizzle of batter on the hot griddle. 

During the season, it was rare for you to enjoy these moments. It was always running to the track, trying to remember where in the world you even were. The chaos of the season was fun, the challenge of meeting deadlines exciting, but it was welcoming to have this kind of peace.

As the pancakes began to cook, you set the table, making sure to leave a spot for Logan. You heard him stir in the other room, the soft shuffle of footsteps on the hardwood mixed with the music that was playing. You didn’t have to rush him. He would be out there when he was ready, just like he always was every Sunday. 

You flipped the pancakes, the golden edges crisping up perfectly, and when you turned around, you saw Logan standing in the doorway. His hair was messy, his eyes still full of sleep, and his bare chest a welcoming sight. For a moment, he just watched you, taking in the sight of you wearing his Williams Racing shirt, the fabric loose on your frame. A lazy, content smile crept across his face that made your chest tighten in a way you couldn’t quite explain. 

“Morning” he said, his voice thick with sleep but warm, as if nothing in the world was more important than the moment in front of him. 

“Morning” you replied, glancing over at him before turning back to the griddle. 

The sound of his bare feet shuffling on the hardwood filled the room again as Logan made his way over to you. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you in from behind. You could feel the heat of his body as he lazily tucked his head into the crook of your neck, watching you finish cooking breakfast. 

“You look good in my shirt” he murmured, voice muffled against your skin, but there was no mistaking the smile in his tone

You chuckled softly, planting a soft kiss on his head “I think I wear it better than you do” you teased 

“Maybe” he said, but his smile only grew “but I’m gonna steal it back after breakfast”

“Sure you are” you rolled your eyes, a smile still plastered on your lips 

Your focus turned back to the pancakes, feeling his arms tighten around just a little around you as he nuzzled against your neck. It felt effortless. Comfortable. For the first time in a while, it felt like you were exactly where you were supposed to be. 

======

Across the hall, the atmosphere was completely different. There was no music playing, no playful banter, just quiet that felt heavier than it should’ve. It had been like that for a while now - tension that settled in, unspoken and unresolved, no matter how hard Max tried. Ever since his vacation in Barcelona, your face had been at the forefront of his mind. 

He had told himself it was just a passing thing, that he was back home and everything would go back to normal. But when he’d returned, it was impossible to ignore the shift. The connection he had with Isabella, while once comfortable and familiar, now seemed foreign. It felt like something was missing. And in the quiet of his apartment, in those rare moments when he allowed himself to stop and think, the only thing that kept creeping into his thoughts was you. 

He couldn’t deny it anymore. After Barcelona, he had spent far too many nights scrolling through your social media accounts - stalking, in the most harmless way possible, or at least that’s what he told himself. It started with your personal account. It wasn’t like he was trying to find something to make himself feel better about the distance that had grown between him and Isabella, but somehow, you’d become a constant in his thoughts. 

Each photo, each post, every little detail felt like a breadcrumb trail he couldn’t resist following. There were shots of you, your eyes half closed in the sunlight, a soft smile on your lips, standing on the edge of the world in England. Then there was Logan, appearing more and more in your stories and posts, at first casually, but then with a certain ease, like you beginning to slip into something… more. There were no signs of it being explicitly named, not in the way that would make everything real, but there was no mistaking the quiet chemistry that danced through your posts, through the subtle way your fingers brushed his in a candid shot, or how you started tagging each other in pictures that felt intimate, even if you didn’t mean them to be. 

But then there was your photography page. 

It was no secret that Max had admired your work - he sang praises about it to whoever would listen, even if you weren’t around. Ferrari still dominated the feed, all those breathtaking shots from last season, the smooth curves of the cars, and the sleek lines of the racetracks. But littered throughout the bright red, were sprinkles of dark blue. Hints of his own car were still found in the whirlwind of red. 

But there was another shade of blue creeping into your feed. It was lighter, and gave a much more welcoming feeling. That shade of blue wasn’t going to destroy anything and everything in its path. The shade of blue that only belonged to a Williams car. 

Mixed into the racing photos were photos of your travels, places you visited between races and seasons. These were more intimate. A series of pictures that felt real. Not the polished shots he was used to seeing of events and on the track. These felt raw, unfiltered. And in those images, hints of Logan could be seen - an arm, or the back of his head. His shadow in your life became undeniable. 

Max always found himself staring at those photos longer than he should. Trying to piece together a story he wasn’t a part of. A narrative he didn’t want to be a part of, but couldn’t help but feel drawn to. He wasn’t a fool. He could see what was happening, even if you hadn’t fully realized it yet. You had slipped away, or maybe you were just beginning to let go of the illusion that you and Logan were just friends. Max didn’t know how to feel about it.

He should’ve been happy for you, right? You were finding someone. You were finding something. But there was a bitter edge to his thoughts. Because no matter how many times he tried to bury the idea, the feeling grew stronger. What did this mean for him and Isabella? What did this mean for his own feelings, things he hadn’t even processed yet?

Max pulled up your personal profile again, the small colorful circle around your profile photo showed that you had posted a new story. Against his better judgment, he tapped on it. A photo of your kitchen table popped up, two plates filled with pancakes - Carlos’ recipe most likely, he knew how much you raved about it. Across from you was a hand. A man’s hand. Logan’s hand. Logan was across the hall. 

Max’s chest tightened, his breath came up in short, sharp bursts as he stared at the image on his phone. The photo of you and Logan. It was innocent, nothing overly affectionate - just pancakes, a lazy Sunday morning. But that hand. The way it rested on the table, the fingers just shy of brushing against your own, spoke volumes.

He had spent weeks trying to push down the feeling that something wasn’t right with him and Isabella. He had told himself it was just the pressures of the season, just a phase. But now, it felt like everything was crashing down on him at once. The quiet distance between him and Isabella had only grown, and you had become a constant thought, even though he knew it wasn’t right. 

Jeddah, Saudi Arabia 

The paddock always felt like a circus - an ever changing, high stakes performance where the pressure was as loud as the noise. Even the most experienced drivers occasionally crumpled under the pressure. Throw in the nineteen year old reserve driver? It’s gonna be interesting. 

“So Carlos needs to get his appendix removed?” you asked as Annalese entered the hospitality suite.

Annalese sighed, “Apparently” she replied, slipping into the chair opposite of you. “It’s not ideal, but the surgeon apparently said he’ll be fine after a few weeks. But you know what that means…” 

“Ollie?” you asked 

“Ollie.” she answered, “which also means…” 

“Finding him and doing quick media content” you finished her sentence, a smirk playing on your lips. 

As if you two were being controlled, you stood up in sync, already knowing what you had to do. Your attention was on the tablet in your hands, swiping through the team schedule, looking for any hint as to where Ollie could be. 

“According to this, he should be in the garage going over data.” you said, eyebrows furrowing in concentration as you looked at the spreadsheet. 

“So we should be able to snatch him for a moment to make the announcement video.” Annalese replied 

“That, or his team is going to chase us out of there, armed with wrenches and screwdrivers” 

You continued to scroll down the spreadsheet, curious as to what the day brought for the rest of the team. Your diverted focus however, meant that you didn’t notice the person standing in the middle of the walkway until you had collided with their chest. 

“I’m sorry -,” you began as you took a step back and looked up from your tablet, “Max?” 

Max’s eyes flickered with a mix of surprise and mild annoyance, but his expression softened when he realized who it was. The faintest of smirks tugged at his lips, and to no surprise, his usual air of confidence was there. 

“Didn’t see you there” you muttered, adjusting the tablet in your hands, a little flustered at the collision.

Max’s smirk deepened, and he took a small step back, glancing down at the tablet in your hands before meeting your eyes again. “Clearly” he said, his voice laced with amusement. “How’ve you been?” 

You blinked at the unexpected question, taken aback for a moment. Max wasn’t one to check in on people, especially outside of race-related matters. Especially if he blew up in your face mere months ago. You shrugged nonetheless, attempting to shake off the sudden feeling of vulnerability. 

“Busy” you replied, offering a half smile. “You know how it is, constant chaos.” 

Max nodded, fiddling with the can in his hand. “Right, of course.” he said before taking a breath. “How was your break?” 

You felt the question hang in the air, and for a brief moment, you hesitated. Max asking about how you were was odd in itself. Him asking about your break was even more strange, especially after everything that happened between you two. The memory of that argument, the tension from months ago, still lingered in the back of your mind. But then, it was Max. He had a way of keeping things casual, pretending like the cracks never formed in the first place. 

“Break?” You raised an eyebrow, hoping you sounded nonchalant. “It was… alright. Quiet. Logan and I did a bit of traveling.” 

Max’s expression softened at the mention of Logan’s name, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of something you couldn’t describe. He nodded, as if processing the information, but his smirk remained in place. “That sounds nice. Traveling is always good, even if it’s just to get away from it all.” 

You shrugged, trying to keep things light “Yeah, exactly. A little peace and quiet never hurt anyone.” 

There was a beat of silence, the sound of the paddock humming in the background, the usual chaos always just a heartbeat away. Max fiddled with his Red Bull can again, clearly thinking. The brief lull felt oddly comfortable, despite the tension that you both seemed to be dancing around. 

“So, how about you?” you asked, trying to shift the focus back to him. “Did you get a proper break?” 

Max’s lips twitched into something that could’ve been passed as a smile, though it was far from reaching his eyes. “You could say I had a break, though it wasn’t exactly restful.”

You wanted to ask what he meant, if something happened behind the scenes, but that would mean he was important. And Max Verstappen was not an important part of your life anymore.

And so, you didn’t. Instead, you offered a nod, letting the silence last just a little bit longer. 

“Hey!” Annalese called, cutting the silence between you “Love that you guys are chit chatting, but we have a driver to find” 

“Right” you said, any traces of awkwardness left slowly evaporated as you were brought back to reality. “We need to go find Ollie. But thanks for the chat, Max. It’s uh… been a while.” 

Max gave a brief, almost undetectable smile, his eyes softening for a moment. “Anytime” he replied, words quieter than usual. Then, without another word, he turned and walked off, his footsteps steady and sure as always. 

Just as you expected, you found Ollie in his garage. The number 55 was nowhere to be found, but instead replaced by 38. You were honestly amazed how quickly the team was able to swap everything out, as if Carlos was never even there. 

The stark change in the number alone reminded you that the Spaniard wouldn’t be with Ferrari come next season. Lewis had signed with the team, and while you were excited to see what he could add, you were going to miss Carlos. 

Ollie was to the side of the garage, staring intently at the wall of monitors, clearly deep in thought. His focus was unwavering as he looked at the data, the world around him easily faded away. 

You wanted to leave him be, let him get as adjusted as possible without media distractions. But the life he lived didn’t let that happen. 

So, you sighed as you walked up to the reserve driver. “Hey, Ollie” you said, hoping not to scare him “Got a minute?” 

Ollie turned his head to look at you. You were expecting him to be annoyed that you pulled him away from his data, but the Brit had the biggest smile on his face. 

“Yeah, of course, I’ve got a minute,” Ollie said, putting his headset down. “What’s up?”

Annalese hesitated, surprised by his easy going approach to the weekend. The switch from Carlos to him - however temporary - was a huge turn of events. 

“Need you for a quick video” Annalese said, motioning to the camera slung around your shoulder. “Just the usual - announcement for Carlos’, uh, situation.” 

You didn’t feel the need to elaborate, only offering a nod. He knew exactly what Annalese meant. 

The three of you made your way out to the pit lane for filming, as there were no cars on track. You walked Ollie through what to highlight in the video, offering him suggestions on what to say. 

“Ready?” you asked, holding your camera in the perfect angle. 

“Ready” he answered. You pressed record, motioning for him to start talking. “Hey guys, Ollie here, bit of an unexpected night to be standing here. Firstly my condolences to Carlos…”

You and Annalese exchanged glances, the two of you thinking the exact same thing. Carlos isn’t dead. But Ollie was so busy rambling about his day and how excited he was to be with Ferrari, that both of you kept your mouth shut until he was done. 

“That was good, but you know, Carlos is still alive, he’s just getting surgery” you couldn’t help but chuckle

Ollie froze for a moment, his eyes widening as he processed what you said. “Oh no.” His face flushed with embarrassment as he quickly glanced at Annalese who was holding back a laugh. “I-uh, I didn’t mean it like that. I swear, I didn’t-” 

You couldn’t help but laugh as Ollie scrambled to explain himself, his face now matching the color of his Ferrari shirt. polo. “It’s okay, we know you didn’t mean it like that” 

Annalese couldn’t hold it in as she let out a snort of laughter. “Carlos would definitely appreciate not being mourned while he’s still very much alive, recovering in a hospital bed.” 

“But it would be really fucking funny if we left that in the video.” you added, a smirk still dancing on your lips 

“Would you leave it in the video?” Ollie asked, curiosity lacing his words 

You shrugged “Honestly, probably. It was a solid one-take, you hit everything on the head, and the hiccup will surely add a bit of humor for the fans.” 

Ollie didn’t need any more convincing to agree to use the already filmed clip. As quickly as you pulled him away from his work, you sent him right back to it, hoping to get him prepped and ready for the weekend. 

======

Fortunately, Ollie did great for his first F1 race. He finished P7, getting six points for the team. Charles made the podium for the first time for the season, placing P3 behind Checo in P2, and to no one’s surprise, Max in P1. 

You waved to Ollie as you made your way to parc ferme, making a note to congratulate him when you had a moment. When you got to parc ferme, you found yourself a spot for photographing the top three. As you snapped photos, you chatted with some of the team, congratulating each other on the podium. One of the people you expected to be there though, was nowhere to be found. 

Your eyes scanned the crowd of Ferrari crew members once more. Surely you had just glossed over her in the sea of red. There were so many people, all wearing the same uniform. Nope. No sign. 

She wouldn’t miss his podium. Not in a million years. You knew she’d do anything and everything it took to be there. She did it all last season, even if Ferrari wasn’t on a step. But there you were, and she was noticeably absent. 

“Hey, have you seen Isabella?” you asked, walking up to one of the mechanics, trying to sound casual as you snapped a few more photos of Charles yapping with Max.

The mechanic looked at you with a slight hesitation, as if he was debating whether or not to tell you. “She’s with Ollie. Getting a headstart on the post race work with him.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, and you could feel a flicker of doubt in your chest. Getting a headstart on post-race work? Sure, that made sense for someone new on the team. But Isabella? That didn’t quite add up, especially if going to celebrate Max was an option to put it off. 

“Right” you said, trying to mask the intrigue in your voice. You turned your attention back to the three drivers, snapping one last picture as they disappeared into the cooldown room. 

You went through the podium routine, being sure to avoid getting doused in champagne. Once the celebrations subsided, you made your way back to the Ferrari garages. Isabella was seated on one of the stools, camera in hand, most likely looking at the photos she took. It was hard to tell whether she was deep in thought about the photos or just lost in her own head, but something about her demeanor didn’t seem entirely normal. 

“Hey,” you said, keeping your tone light as you approached her, “Good shots?” 

Isabella didn’t immediately look up. Instead, she absently adjusted the camera in her hands, before giving a soft, almost absent minded nod. “Yeah I think so,” she muttered, her voice quieter than usual. “Pretty standard, nothing too exciting.” 

You couldn’t help but feel a flicker of concern. Pretty standard? You would be the first to admit she was an incredibly talented photographer. Isabella saying her photos were pretty standard was unheard of. 

You took a slow breath and decided to press a little further, knowing her decently enough to read between the lines when something didn’t feel right. 

“Why weren’t you at the podium?” you asked, trying to sound casual but noticing how your voice came out slightly softer than you intended. “I thought you’d wanna see Max-.” 

At the mention of the Red Bull driver, Isabella’s posture stiffened for a fraction of a second. She quickly forced her expression back to neutrality, but you caught it. She met your gaze for the first time since you’d walked up to her, her lips curving into a small, almost dismissive smile. 

“I just wanted to make sure Ollie was set for the post-race media scrums. He’s still adjusting to everything, you know?” Her words felt rehearsed, like a practiced response, and though her voice sounded calm, there was a tension there - an underlying current that made your gut twist with suspicion. 

You nodded, but the unease in your chest only grew. It was definitely true that Ollie may need the extra help going through his first F1 weekend, But Isabella wasn’t the type to stay away from the celebrations for that. 

Before you could ask any more questions, Isabella stood up, her body language shifting in a way that made you feel like the conversation was over. “Anyway, I’ve got work to do.” she said quickly, her tone almost now businesslike, as if to close the door on any further discussion. “I’ll catch you later.” 

With that, she packed up her belongings, and made her way through the garage, leaving out of the back.

You stood there for a second, processing the interaction you just had. But before you knew it, chatter quickly filled the pit lane, as Red Bull was making their way to their garage. Leading the pack was Max. His gaze lingered on you for a heartbeat too long, his usual cool demeanor slightly shifting as if something had crossed his mind. 

Your mouth opened, as if you were to speak, but no sound came out. You didn’t know what to say to him. Congrats on the win! What’s wrong with your girlfriend? 

So, you quickly broke eye contact, not wanting to draw anymore attention to him. But his look was sharp, calculating, like he was reading you. It was unsettling, to say the least. 

Melbourne, Australia

One of your favorite races on the calendar was Melbourne. Ever since you started traveling down under, the city held a special place for you - part of it being the thrill of being so far away from everything you've ever known in Europe, but also because there was something electric about the energy there. Whether it was the bustling streets, the laid-back vibe, or the fact that the Australian Grand Prix was always a spectacle, Melbourne had a way of drawing you in every time. 

One you’d dropped off your bags and gotten settled, the first stop was always the same: Graffiti Alley. You could call it a bit of a tradition at this point, and even though you’d wandered through the maze of artwork countless times before, it was never the same. It was a living, breathing space, filled with history, culture, and the spontaneous creativity that you longed to return to from when you were a teenager. 

This time, you brought Logan. You were bouncing off the walls with excitement as you finally got to show him arguably your favorite street in the world. 

“You ready for this?” you asked, glancing over at Logan, your fingers intertwined with his. 

Logan, gave you a grin and shrugged, his curiosity piqued. “Let’s see if it lives up to the hype.” You could read him like a book, so you could tell he was trying to play it cool, acting as if he hadn’t spent the last fifteen minutes scrolling through his phone looking up pictures of the alley. 

A laugh left your mouth, feeling a wave of fondness for him as you turned the corner. Off the bat, you noticed some of the artwork had been painted over with new pieces. 

You couldn’t help but smile as you looked at Logan, still trying to play it cool, his phone now tucked away in his pocket as he took in the surroundings. You could tell he was impressed, his eyes darting from one striking piece of art to the next, the occasional flicker of recognition crossing his face as if trying to place the meaning behind the murals. 

“See?” you said, exchanging Logan’s hand for your camera. “I told you it would be worth it.” 

Logan’s grin widened as he looked around, eyes scanning the art. “Okay, okay. I get it now,” he said, shaking his head in mild disbelief. “This place is unreal. It’s like the walls are talking to you.” 

“Told you” you teased, as you brought the camera up to your face, snapping a few shots of the art around you. You were sure to get a few of Logan’s amazement.

Logan rolled his eyes as you took the photos of him, but his smile never waivered. “Fine, fine, maybe a bit.” he conceded.

The two of you navigated through the network of backstreets, snapping photos as you did so. Logan followed your lead, taking out his phone and channeling his inner photographer. You couldn’t help but laugh as he mimicked your poses, hoping to get the same angles you were. 

“You look ridiculous” you chuckled as you watched Logan squat in the middle of the alley. 

“Hey, I’m just copying you.” he said, throwing his hands up in defense. Once he finally got himself up, he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you in. “Have you ever thought of buying a few cans and graffiting a piece here?” 

Your weight shifted a tad, leaning more into him as you pondered the question. “I mean I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it” you said, looking around the walls that surrounded you. “But I don’t know” 

“Why not?” he asked, “I’ve seen your work, it’s definitely worthy of being up here.” 

You paused for a moment, looking at the vibrant artwork around you. The last time anyone had talked about you adding to it was with Max years ago. It was an idea that had taken up a lot of space in your head, but one that never came to fruition. 

“It’s a little intimidating, you know?” you said, glancing up at a mural of a heart restled in the branches of a tree. It was one of the few murals that had been there every single year you’ve visited. The colors faded in the sun, but no one had dared to touch it. “I also don’t want to cover up someone’s work.” 

Logan placed a kiss on your head, before speaking “If you do, just know I’ll be the first one wanting to see it.” 

======

You didn’t see much of Logan the rest of the weekend. Between his media duties, him getting his car taken away for Alex to use, and your camera getting hit by a cricket ball that Charles had smacked, you both had your hands full. You did, however, see a lot more of Max than you were expecting. 

It started on media day. Both him and Charles had been running around talking to different sponsors, doing promotional videos, and simply hanging around the paddock. Whenever you were on the move with Charles, it seemed Max was always walking past in the opposite direction. It wasn’t unusual for him to be involved in everything - everyone wanted to meet him after all - but this time, there was an undeniable shift in the air. 

It was subtle at first, but once you noticed it, you couldn’t unsee it. Max’s glances were no longer just passing, neutral acknowledgements - he was actively seeking them out. It wasn’t the typical “I’m just here to do my thing” look that you were used to from him. This was different. His eyes lingered for just a beat longer than usual, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his lips whenever they met yours. 

It was during the post-qualifying press conferences that it really hit you. You were sitting near the back of the media room, scanning through some of the shots you had taken earlier when you caught Max’s eyes across the room. He was in the middle of answering a question, but for some reason, his gaze flickered to yours again - longer this time. When your eyes met, there was something unspoken there. It wasn’t a stare, exactly, but more of a quiet acknowledgement that only the two of you seemed to understand. 

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t intrigued by the shift. His desire to hold your attention oddly coincided with Isabella’s shift in demeanor. Curiosity got the best of you as you opened Instagram, typing in her handle name into the search bar. As you thumbed through her profile, there were a few things you took note of. 

The first thing that stood out was the change in Isabella’s posts. There weren’t as many shared moments with Max, no sweet captions or photos of the two of them at events. In fact, it had been a few weeks since she had even mentioned him in her stories. 

You could already feel the pieces falling into place, as you noticed posts from the past few months had a new cover photo. Posts that had Max at the forefront of them now were replaced by landscapes or solo shots of Isabella. 

As you lurked, you found yourself staring at one of the last remaining traces of Max on her profile. It was a photo of one of the beaches in the French Riviera, with Max’s silhouette in the distance, his outline tagged with his username. 

So, you did what you thought any other person would do, and followed the tag to his profile. While it was common knowledge that someone else mostly ran his account, you couldn’t help but look. His posts were more frequent, more personal. There were the standard race weekend photos, but sprinkled in were photos of his day to day life, of Jimmy and Sassy. Photos that the public wouldn’t normally get. 

They had definitely called it quits. 

 ======

The run ins with Max continued as he was forced to retire on lap 4. You were on the complete opposite side of the circuit as he pulled into the pit lane, but as he did so, you received a text 

from Isabella. 

Can we swap assignments for the rest of the race? 

No questions asked, you agreed, letting her know where you were currently stationed if she wanted track shooting ideas. You rode the golf cart shuttle back to the pit lane, where Isabella was already long gone. 

One of the many monitors on the wall was the TV coverage showing the Red Bull garage next door, with Max sitting in his car, frustrated. It was understandable, having to give up winning the race because of a car failure. 

You made your way to the pit wall, finding yourself a spot in between the grating of the metal fence that separated you and the track. The rest of the race you were stationed there, alternating taking shots of the cars on track and turning to shoot the boys as they pulled in for a pitstop. 

Carlos and Charles had finished first and second, respectively. From your spot, you were able to capture both cars crossing the finish line, as well as the team celebrating along the wall as they did so. 

As the mechanics and engineers turned to race down to the podium, you turned to follow suit, only stopping when Max’s gaze caught your attention yet again. He was standing outside his garage, clearly showered and changed into his team kit. 

You didn’t expect the sudden jolt in your chest. His gaze held for just a moment too long before both of you broke it simultaneously, you looking down toward the podium, and him to his engineer. Mere seconds later, you met each other's eyes again, GP was gone, and you had a minute or so to spare before the ceremony began. 

“Hey” you said, giving him a soft smile as you approached the rival garage. “Sorry about the race” 

He shrugged, “It’s all good. I can’t win every race, no matter how much I try” he joked, a small chuckle leaving his mouth. 

“Can’t stay on top forever, huh?” you replied, your voice light even though you could sense Max’s frustration lingering beneath the surface. You paused for a moment, debating on whether or not to bring her up. Against your better judgment, you did. “How’s Isabella taking the DNF?” 

Max’s expression shifted for a brief second, and you could immediately tell you hit a touchy subject. His eyes narrowed, a mix of frustration and contentment formed on his face. He let out a small, controlled exhale, before responding in a calm voice. “She gets it. It’s all part of racing.”

Knowing Max, and how much he hated someone pushing his buttons, that’s exactly what you did. And thankfully, you were pretty good at playing dumb.

“Did something happen between you two?” you asked, tilting your head slightly. “She’s usually the one comforting you over here when you have a bad race.” 

“We broke up.” he informed you, his jaw tightened slightly before being released. “Things weren’t working out.” 

Your expression softened for real this time as he confirmed your speculations, noting the slight disappointment in his voice. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up anything-”

“No, you’re fine.” Max interrupted, running his hand through his damp hair. His tone changed, as if he got a second wind, as if he was okay with the split. “I was the one who ended it all.”

You don’t know why your heart pounded a little extra when you heard his explanation. People go through breakups all the time, it’s just a part of life. But the way he said it, so matter-of-factly, yet with an undertone of something unspoken - struck a chord in you. It was almost like there was another factor that contributed to him breaking things off with Isabella. 

You also weren’t sure what to say after that. You couldn’t apologize, that would lead to a never ending cycle you didn’t want to be a part of. 

“I’m sorry.” Max blurted out before you got a chance to find what to say. 

You blinked, caught off guard by his sudden apology. Max Verstappen, of all people, apologizing? It almost felt out of place. He was more than capable of doing so, but it was something you never expected. 

“Sorry?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, as if to make sure you hadn’t imagined it. 

“Yeah,” he nodded, swallowing before he spoke again. “For Singapore. I spoke without thinking.”

You didn’t need to ask what he was referring to. The argument had been burned in your mind. The words thrown at each other, the accusations. It was a tattoo that you couldn’t remove. 

“Yeah, you did” you let out a small chuckle, catching the driver by surprise. The chuckle was quickly followed by a sigh, your voice lowering. “But I think I did too.” 

Max’s brow furrowed slightly at your words, and he looked at you with an unreadable expression, as if he wasn’t quite sure how to respond. For a moment, it seemed like he was trying to process what you meant by that. 

“You did?” he asked, a hint of curiosity creeping into his voice. “I didn’t think… I mean, I wasn’t expecting an apology from you.” 

You shrugged, a little sheepishly, but your gaze held steady. “Yeah, well, I guess I wasn’t exactly calm either. I got caught up in the heat of it too. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did.” 

There was a pause as you both stood there, in this strange in-between space where everything felt more real than it had in a long time. You hadn’t expected to be standing here, having a conversation like this with Max. The silence of car engines being turned off snapped both of you out of your bubble. 

Max glanced down towards the podium, before landing back on you. “You probably should-”

“Yeah, I should go.” you said, turning to walk away. You stopped for a moment, turning back to get his attention one more time. “Hey Max?” 

“Huh?” he asked, looking at you again

“Do you wanna grab a coffee next time we’re both back home?” you asked

Max stared at you for a beat, his eyes flickering with something unreadable. For a moment, you weren’t sure if you caught him off guard or if he was considering the offer. But then, a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips, something genuine - almost relieved. 

“Sure.” he said, his voice quieter than it had been “I’d like that.” 

You were surprised by how easy and natural it felt to say those words to him. You hadn’t expected the conversation to take the turn that it did, but something about it felt right. 

“Cool. I’ll see you around, Max.” you replied, finally turning to walk toward post race celebrations that were already underway. 

Monte Carlo, Monaco

Arranging a date to meet took longer than either of you had hoped. Between race weekends, Max buried in sim work and meetings in Milton Keynes, and you flying in and out of Maranello for shoots and content, the calendar seemed to mock you both. When you were both home, it felt like you couldn’t catch a break. You’d pass each other in the halls of your building, both too busy to do more than wave as you hurried to your respective commitments. 

But somehow, after a month of missed opportunities, the stars finally aligned. It was a quiet weekend in between races, and you had a rare break from the chaos.

Max was sitting at his sim, wrapping up the sim racing stream he was doing with some of his friends. As he was logging off, his phone buzzed with a text from you. 

Free tomorrow? Coffee at my place?

His heart gave a little skip. He hadn’t seen you properly in ages, and even though you passed by each other in the halls and paddock, it had somehow felt like months since you’d last had an actual conversation. 

He quickly typed out a reply.

Max: I think I can squeeze it in. Time?

You: 10 AM? I’ll keep the coffee hot

The next morning, he stood in front of your apartment door, adjusting his shirt and trying to ignore the slight flutter in his chest. It wasn’t a big deal, right? Just coffee. 

It took a minute to build up the courage to knock on your door, but when he did, he could feel his stomach flip. He could hear the shuffling of your footsteps - at least he hoped it was just your footsteps from the other side of the door. You didn’t explicitly say Logan would be there, but you also didn’t say he wouldn’t. 

The door swung open, and there you were. You looked relaxed in a gray Miami Dolphins hoodie and leggings, the familiar warmth in your eyes as you greeted him. 

“Hey” you said, your voice soft, with the same warmth that Max loved. “Come in.”

Max stepped inside, letting the door fall gently behind him. The apartment was cozy, and definitely yours. As he passed the kitchen, he noticed photographs and artwork donning the walls, in a tasteful manner, each piece hung with intent. Once you led him to the living room, he instantly took notice of two skateboards mounted on the wall above the couch. The top one painted with the Ferrari lettering, while the bottom one had three skeleton hands flipping him off. 

He couldn’t help but smile when he saw the boards. He should’ve known you would’ve added a touch of your skater past in the apartment, but it was a welcomed touch. It was you. 

“Nice place.” he said, glancing around. The apartment felt a lot like your childhood bedroom, warm, inviting, and very much like it reflected you - comfortable, and lived-in, but matured enough to not seem childish. Maybe it was the slight familiarity of the decorations, or the fact that Logan wasn’t there, but Max felt an odd sense of ease as you guided him further into the living room. 

“Thanks,” you said softly, as you motioned toward the small kitchen counter where the coffee was already set up. “Take a seat. I’ll grab you a cup.”

Max settled onto the couch, glancing at the books and knick-knacks scattered about - a mix of travel souvenirs, racing memorabilia, and more personal items that seemed to tell a story. It was like a puzzle of your life, scattered in front of him, each item a clue.  

When you returned with two steaming mugs of coffee, he snapped out of his thoughts, looking up at you with a small smile. “You know,” he said, taking the cup you handed him and breathing in the rich aroma, “I didn’t think we’d get to do this with our schedules. It’s nice.” 

You returned the smile, your eyes soft with a quiet, easy warmth. “It’s been a while since we’ve actually had time to talk, huh?” you said, making yourself comfy on the couch as well. “We’re both always running around, never getting a chance to actually stop for a minute.” 

Max nodded, cradling the coffee between his hands. The heat was comforting, much different to the coldness you two had been giving each other the entirety of last season. He took a sip of the drink, letting the flavors infiltrate his taste buds. 

“This is really good, y/n. What is it?” he asked, his mind far from the small talk you were having moments earlier. 

You pondered the question for a moment, as if you were trying to find the answer to your question. “This one is the Italian roast. I’ve been alternating between this and a Spanish roast Carlos gave me.” 

Max let out a chuckle at the mention of his former teammate. “Really? He must really know his coffee if he’s giving you tips.” 

A sigh escaped your lips as you leaned back into the couch cushions, your body language casual and comfortable. Max couldn’t help but notice how much easier it felt to be here now. No racing. No rush. 

“You have no idea. We’ve started having to follow him to the espresso machine in the motorhome so we can get his coffee content. But honestly, it’s hard to fight back when he always gives free samples.” 

Max shrugged, “Maybe I need to start bribing him with something to get my hands on some of this next time.” 

“I think a race win would be a perfect trade off” you offered, a smirk playing on your lips

The driver rolled his eyes, but the smile still persisted on his lips. “Hey, some of us are fighting for a World Championship.”

“Yeah, your fourth” you replied 

“You can never have too many” he defended before taking another sip of the coffee, the liquid warming his throat. 

As you two caught up, Max couldn’t help but feel a small shift inside, like the walls that both of you had built up between you over the last year were slowly starting to crumble. The act of sitting there, of just talking, seemed to be more than enough. And from your shift in body language, you seemed to be realizing the same. 

“I think we both needed this,” you said quietly, a small, genuine smile forming on your face. It was a different kind of smile than you usually wore - one that was more open, less guarded. “Just time to breathe.” 

Max nodded, returning the smile back to you. “Yeah, we really did. It was nice to catch up without any distractions for once.” After a long silence, Max sighed, standing up. “But I should probably get going. Thanks again for this.”

You stood up too, walking him to the door. “Anytime,” you said, the soft smile on your lips making his chest tighten a little. “We should do it more often. We’ll both be in town next weekend.” you said. He instantly registered that you meant that you’d both be in town for work. It was about to be the Monaco Grand Prix, afterall.

Max smiled, a genuine curve on his lips. “Definitely” 

And as he stepped out the door, he didn’t want to leave. But the connection had been made. And that was enough, for now. Something had shifted between you. It was subtle, but it was real. 

====== 

The week had flown by, and before you knew it, you found yourself back in the paddock. Just like last year, Logan was staying with you, but Oscar chose to bunk in the team hotel. He claimed that it was “team orders” and they were “nervous that he’d leak important information to the rivals” but you knew he just didn’t want to be the third wheel. You didn’t have a super license, and Logan was driving a dumpster on wheels. 

Regardless of the tractor that Logan was driving, or McLaren’s sudden paranoia, one thing was for certain: when the hometown boy wins, everyone celebrates. The streets of Monte Carlo were always packed with parties during the weekend, but this was another level. 

“Is that Vasseur?” Logan asked as you walked into Jimmy’z, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the crowd. 

You turned in the direction Logan was looking, following his gaze upwards. Sure enough, Fred was high above the crowd, on top of someone’s shoulders. You chuckled, as you shook your head. 

“Well, at least it was easy finding where the team is” you pointed out, your eyes still on the scene.

You both laughed, and as the two of you continued weaving your way through the crowd toward the bar, you couldn’t help but notice how Logan’s body was pressed up against yours, close enough that it was hard to ignore the warmth radiating between you two. The chaos of the club didn’t seem to matter much in that little bubble you’d formed as you stood waiting for the bartender to notice you. 

One of Logan’s arms was lazily draped over your shoulder as the other was resting on the bar, his card in hand. 

You raised an eyebrow at him. “You are not paying” you said as you took notice of his card 

Logan just grinned, not missing a beat. “It’s the least I can do for the winner.” His voice was playful, almost teasing. 

You rolled your eyes, not sure whether to laugh or groan. “I didn’t win anything,” you reminded him. “I simply stood there and took photos of it all.” 

“Eh, minor details.” he said as the bartender finally approached. He ordered for the two of you, listing off your favorite drink as he did so. 

“You know my drink order?” you asked as the bartender went on his way to make the drinks. 

“Of course I do.” he replied, his grin widening as he leaned a little closer “I’ve been paying attention.” 

As the evening wore on, the drinks continued to flow. You and Logan took turns buying each other rounds, with additional drinks being added by other drivers, engineers, and mechanics. 

With the additional amount of alcohol in your system, your inhibitions faded away. You dragged Logan out to the dancefloor, where the music pulsed through the speakers, and the bright lights made everything a little hazy. The crowd was wild, moving in sync to the beat, and you and Logan quickly found yourselves caught up in it all. 

Logan didn’t hesitate for a second, grabbing your hand and pulling you closer as the rhythm took over. You both laughed as you moved together, the chaos of the weekend forgotten in that bubble of energy.

The drinks had hit, and the world around you seemed to blur more. You could feel Logan’s hands exploring your body as you danced, the heat of his touch sending sparks through your skin. The music thumped, almost louder than the racing of your heart, as his body pressed closer to yours, moving in rhythm with yours. The space between you was nonexistent as he held you, the closeness magnetic, impossible to ignore. His hand slid to your waist, pulling you even closer, this breath warm against your ear as he leaned in. 

“Having fun?” he murmured, his voice low and husky

You nodded, your breath quickening, but it wasn’t the music that had you like this - it was the way he was looking at you, like you were the only thing that mattered in that moment. 

A giggle escaped your lips, more carefree than before. “I didn’t think you liked to dance.” you teased before kissing his lips, half expecting him to break the moment and crack a joke. 

Logan’s grin turned more into a smirk, eyeing the door before turning to look back at you. “I mean, I’d rather be moving a different way with you.” 

Normally, you would have dismissed the idea, brushed it off as a joke, and continued the banter. But with your inhibitions long gone, you eyed the exit, the thought of taking Logan home much more alluring than it had been moments earlier. 

You pulled Logan closer to you, crashing your lips against his once again, unable to resist the pull between you two. The kiss was instant, raw, and full of intensity. His lips were warm and urgent against yours, deeping the connection with every movement. 

Logan’s hands found your waist, pulling you tighter against him. The feel of his body against yours was electrifying, and the feeling of the rhythm of his heartbeat matching yours was addicting. His fingers gently traced the line of your back, sending shivers through you, and you couldn’t help but to lean into him more. 

When you finally pulled away, both of you panted, dying for air. Your hand rested on his cheek, his bright blue eyes stared into yours. 

“You wanna get out of here?” you asked, the air returning to your lungs. 

“Please.” he said before taking your hand, leading you out of the club and back home to continue the night. 

The cool night air was a sharp contrast to the head you’d left behind in Jimmy’z. The walk back felt too long, though neither of you said anything. Every now and then, Logan would glance at you with that playful grin, his fingers lightly brushing against your skin. There was no need for words; everything you both wanted seemed to hand in the air, unspoken but understood. 

When you reached your apartment, Logan was quick to open the door, pulling you inside with a quiet urgency. As soon as the door clicked shut behind you, he was on you again, his lips crashing against yours. His hands moved to your back, guiding you backwards until the back of your legs hit the couch. 

Logan’s hands pressed into the small of your back, guiding you down as he followed you, never breaking the kiss. The world around you seemed to fade as everything narrowed to just the two of you - his lips on yours, his touch igniting every nerve in your body. His body was warm against yours, and the heat was intoxicating. 

You pulled him closer, your hands threading through his hair, tugging him deeper into the kiss. The urgency in his movements matched your own, his touch leaving a trail of fire along your skin. The rhythm of your hearts synchronized again as you moved in perfect harmony, the tension in the air building with every passing second. 

He pulled away for just a moment, his breath coming in quick bursts as he looked down at you, his eyes dark with desire. The heat of the moment hung thick between you, both of you caught in the electricity of the connection. 

“You sure?” His voice was low, gravelly, as if he was trying to make sure you were on the same page, but his hands never stopped exploring, his lips never straying far from yours. 

“Yeah” was all that came out of your mouth, before pulling him in once more. 

======

You woke up to the soft weight of blankets wrapped around you, the familiar warmth of Logan’s body pressed against yours. For a split second, it felt like a regular morning - quiet, peaceful. The kind of mornings you’d have after binge watching another season of the Outer Banks. But the details slowly sunk in as your mind came alive. The way his arm was slung over your bare waist. The fact that your legs were tangled beneath the sheets, pressed together in a way they definitely shouldn’t have been. 

You froze. 

The events from the night before began to replay in flashes - the plethora of drinks, the touch of his hand brushing against yours. You hadn’t planned for the night to end like it did, but you let yourself get lost in everything. The kisses he placed on your neck, his low voice in your ear. You both had always danced around this kind of tension, but last night, it was like you couldn’t stop it. It had been inevitable. 

Your chest tightened, and you gently pulled away from him, careful not to wake him. Fortunately, he slept like a rock, and you were able to wiggle out of his grasp and stood without him moving a muscle. 

You stood there for a moment, the quiet of the room wrapping around you as your heart raced. The weight of the situation began to sink in - what had happened between you and Logan was real, and you needed to figure out what you wanted to do about it going forward. 

You ran a hand through your hair, trying to make sense of it all. It was complicated. There was a pull between you - there was no denying that. But what happened last night may have been too much for you. 

Taking a deep breath, you tossed on the Ferrari sweatshirt and sweatpants that were resting on your desk chair and made your way through your apartment to the kitchen. The soft creak of the floorboards under your feet barely made a sound as you moved. You needed space to think, to process. You weren’t sure how things were going to change between you and Logan, but you knew one thing: you had to get out of the in-between thing you had going on with him. 

The steady hum of the coffee maker was oddly comforting as you poured yourself a cup, though your thoughts were anything but still. The warmth of the mug in your hands was a stark contrast to the cold wave of uncertainty that stirred in your mind. You stared into the dark liquid, the aroma doing little to clear the fog in your mind. The night had shifted something between you and Logan, but whether that shift was permanent, or a temporary lapse in judgment, you weren't sure. 

And then there was Max. You thought you had pushed all of your feelings away for that man. Shoved them, along with all of the memories, in a small little closet, never to open. But ever since he sat in your apartment, that door was going to break at any moment. 

You set the mug down, leaning against the counter as your thoughts continued to spiral. Last night had been intoxicating, yes, but in a way that felt more dangerous than thrilling. Logan was your best friend, you couldn’t afford to lose him. As much as you loved the months leading up to the night before, you couldn’t let him break your heart.

And now, there was a chance you would. 

Suddenly, you heard the sound of footsteps from down the hall, slow and tentative. Your heart skipped, and you turned to see Logan standing in the doorway, his hair messy, his expression still sleepy but alert. His eyes found yours immediately, and there was an unease in them that mirrored your own. 

“Hey” he said, his voice rough, trying to gauge your mood. “You okay?” 

You nodded slowly, though the uncertainty still lingered in your chest. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… thinking.” 

Logan hesitated, and then, as if taking a deep breath, he walked toward you. “Look, about last night…” he trailed off, his eyes searching yours as if trying to figure out how to approach the situation. You could tell he was trying to tread carefully, not wanting to make things more awkward than they already were. 

You picked up your mug again, as if hoping the warmth of the liquid would help with what you had to say, and met his gaze. “Yeah, about that…” your voice faltered for a moment before you steadied yourself. “Logan, I don’t know what to do.”

His eyes softened, his gaze lingering on you for a second. “I don’t know either.” He stepped closer, his hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants. “I care about you, and I don’t want things to be weird between us.” 

Somehow, a soft chuckle was the thing that came out of your mouth at his words. “Little too late for that” you said, “I don’t know if we can just pretend everything is fine”

Logan looked at you, his expression shifting to confusion. “What do you mean?” he asked, his voice quiet but heavy with concern

You exhaled, feeling the air fall out of your lungs. You didn’t want to hurt him. The last thing you wanted was to make things worse. But last night - it had been a mistake. Everything had felt so right in the moment, in the months leading up to it, but now, in the light of day, it was clear that it was too much. 

“I think… I think we can’t just go back to how things were.” you admitted, your words tasting bitter on your tongue. “I’ve had fun the past few months, and loved last night. It’s just… I just don’t think we should continue with it.” 

Logan’s face fell, and for a split second, you saw something in his eyes - hurt, maybe, or disappointment. But it quickly masked itself with an understanding that both stung and comforted you.

“Are you saying you regret it?” he asked, his voice barely audible

You shook your head, “I don’t regret it one bit” you said, hoping that would give some comfort to the American. “I just don’t think all of this was supposed to happen. We’re friends, Logan. I don’t want to lose that, and I don’t want to lose you.” 

His gaze softened, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, he gave a small, resigned nod. “I get it” he said, the words barely there, like he was trying to convince himself more than anything. “I don’t want to lose you either.” 

The silence between you both grew thick, heavy with unspoken feelings, and neither of you seemed to know how to bridge the gap that had opened up.

You swallowed hard, your chest tightened. “I think we just need to go back to being friends. Like we were before.” 

Logan sighed, a mix of frustration and sadness in the sound, but he didn’t argue. He just nodded again, the flicker of pain still there, but there was something else in his eyes now - a flicker of understanding that wasn’t there before. 

“Okay.” he finally said, his voice low. “I can do that.”

The words hung between you two, and for a moment, neither of you moved. It felt like there was a distance between you now that hadn’t been there before. You didn’t know how things would be from here, or if they’d ever go back to the way they were. But deep down, you knew you had to try. 

“I’m sorry” you whispered, your voice barely audible

Logan glanced at you, the corner of his mouth lifting a weak smile. “It’s okay” he said, though you both knew it wasn’t. But that was the problem with mistakes. They couldn’t be erased. 

The rest of the morning passed in a muted silence, and though you both pretended that everything was fine, the air between you felt different. Changed. But at least, for now, you were still friends. And that’s all you could hold onto. 

Spielberg, Austria 

For the first time since you started working with the team, Ferrari wasn’t number one on the Bulls hit list, it was McLaren. So, you, along with the rest of the team, were able to enter the Red Bull Ring with ease. 

You found Isabella and Annalese in the hospitality suite, chatting excitedly over pastries and coffee, one of their phones on the table. Isabella looked up first, her eyes lighting up when she spotted you. “There you are!” she called, waving you over. “We were just talking about you.” 

Ever since you swapped assignments in Melbourne, you and Isabella had started talking more. It had been a rough season between you the year prior, but as you two talked more, you found you two had more in common than you thought. Aside from your shared love of photography, you found out she also paints, just with a paintbrush and canvas. 

“Talking about me, huh?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as you sat on the couch next to her. You had come in to look for Carlos and Charles, but the conversation seemed much more interesting than the drivers. 

“Yeah, your episode of Drive to Survive finally came out” Annalease said, glancing down at the phone on the table 

You felt a brief flash of embarrassment, suddenly aware of the attention that your name had drawn. The interview you had done in Austin last season had completely left your mind, until now. Agreeing to do the show had always been a tricky subject, especially when it came to the fact it documented not only the highs and lows of what’s been happening on track, but also painted your personal life and struggles in front of the world. 

“Ugh, don’t remind me” you laughed, trying to brush it off. “It was a… weird experience.” 

Isabella gave you a teasing look, clearly amused. “Weird? You came across great. It was all professional and calm, even when they clearly tried to invade your privacy. I think you looked like a pro.” 

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t suppress a smile with the compliment. “It’s just weird seeing yourself on something like that.” 

Annalese, who had been watching you closely, chimed in. “At least there aren’t any memes being made about you.”

“Yeah, Toto is still living with the aftermath of ‘I have it printed out.’” Isabella chuckled before taking a sip of her drink. 

“True” you said as one of the doors swung open.

The three of you turned to the sound to see Charles leaving one of the meeting rooms. He spotted the three of you almost immediately, a smile on his face as he approached. 

“Or you could be this guy, who doesn’t even need the show to be made fun of” Annalese teased 

The driver’s face dropped as he registered what she had said. “What was that for?” he asked, looking genuinely confused. 

Annalese grinned as she looked at the driver, “Just comforting y/n, she’s worried about her reality TV debut” she said, glancing at you.

“I’m not worried,” you interjected. “I’m just not used to my personal life being aired out for the world to see”

Charles’ face lit up in recognition as he looked at you. “Oh yeah! The episode was really good. We’ve all seen it. You honestly didn’t reveal too much” he said “You handled everything with Max really well.” 

You shot a look at Isabella, checking on her at the mention of her ex-boyfriend. Max had been a topic of plenty of conversations before, but each time you felt the need to make sure it was okay to talk about. The photographer gave you a soft smile, nodding to let you know you were in the clear. 

“Yeah, I mean, everything I said in it is true. I still admire the hell out of him, even after everything we’ve been through our entire lives.” you said 

Charles nodded, clearly understanding the complexity of your feelings. “Max has a way of making things… complicated. It’s good that you’ve handled it with so much grace.”

Yeah. Max was the one that made it all complicated. But Max wasn’t the one to run from whatever you two had going on a few years ago. Max wasn’t the first one to slam the door on you two. Max wasn’t the one to hide.

Before you could say anything else, another door flew open, revealing Carlos walking out. You silently thanked the timing of it all, relieved for the interruption. 

“Perfect, I need both of you.” you said, slinging your camera bag over your shoulder as you looked at the two drivers. 

======

Getting in and out of the Red Bull Ring was always chaotic. Crowds swarmed around the track, a sea of orange wherever you looked, all hoping to catch a glimpse of the three time world champion. 

When it wasn’t the fans though, it was the cameras. You could sympathize with them a little bit more, being a photographer and social media creator yourself, but you also couldn’t stand the ones just dying to get into a driver’s business. They’d shove their lenses where they shouldn’t, getting uncomfortably close to personal spaces, all for a shot that would most likely get lost in the sea of other images flooding the internet within minutes. 

It was quali day, and you had just parked at the track. In the distance, you could hear the chatter of people mixed together with the occasional burst of laughter or shouting. Taking a deep breath, you got out of your car, mentally preparing yourself for the day ahead. 

You opted to try to enter through the back gate, figuring it wouldn’t be as crowded as the main one. It was a little more out of the way, but you would take the exercise over being mobbed. But as you got to the back gate, you could tell it was going to be a battle. 

Fans, photographers, influencers, and reporters alike swarmed the gate, all in hopes of seeing their idol. You kept your head down as you grabbed your paddock pass out of your pocket, hoping you’d go by unnoticed. 

You approached the gate cautiously, following a few of the Red Bull engineers, as you weaved through the swarm as best you could. As you made your way through the last few people, you accidentally bumped into someone. 

“I’m so sorry” you said, turning to apologize. As you met the gaze of the person, you cursed yourself for doing so. 

The person you had bumped into was a photographer, one infamously known for prying himself into the drivers’ business and spreading it all over the internet. His photos were some of the ones that spread around the rumor about you and Max a few years ago. 

Both of you froze, recognition flashing on the photographer's face as well. His camera was in his hands already, most likely prepped to stick its nose in someone’s drama. 

For a second, the world seemed to slow. A small smirk played at the corner of his lips. His finger twitched around the camera, and you could already feel the weight of it - the unmistakable tension of being the subject of his lens. 

Whether you wanted it or not, your sudden stoppage, along with the sound of your voice, drew more attention than just the photographer. Fans had taken notice of your presence, and the buzz around you started to grow. With the Drive to Survive episode just being released, people had you fresh in their minds. 

Cameras flashed and people tried shoving things in your hands - flags, tshirts, pens, their phones - the whole lot. It was overwhelming. You were unaccustomed to the attention - your job always having you in the shadows, being the one creating. 

It felt invasive, and for a moment, you felt completely exposed. The weight of the cameras pressing in on you, the overwhelming noise from the crowd, and the sudden sensation of hands reaching for you felt like an avalanche. 

“Hey!” a familiar voice rang out, causing your head to snap up, but you couldn’t find the source. “Give her room, give her room” 

Through the crowd of people, you could see someone coming toward you, pushing through the crowd. The sea of people parted slightly, and through the shifting mass, you saw Max’s familiar face emerging. He was like a force of nature, moving through the crowd with confidence. 

With one last “move” leaving his mouth, he grabbed your hand, leading you through the crowd. As you passed through the gate, the air on the other side felt calmer. The rush of adrenaline that had coursed through your veins when the crowd had surrounded you started to ebb, and you found yourself taking a deep breath. 

“Are you okay?” Max asked, his voice a little softer than you expected, his eyes searching yours for any signs of discomfort. 

You nodded, still trying to shake off the last remnants of that suffocating feeling. “Yeah, I’m fine.” you answered, looking down to see your hand still holding Max’s. Slowly, you pulled away. “You didn’t need to do that. I would’ve been fine.” 

“No you wouldn’t have, it was just you against how many people?” he said, shooting you a look but a small smile still on his face. “I’m surprised you didn’t walk in with Logan.”

At the sound of his name, your face fell. He was still a tough subject, one you had only told Isabella and Annalese about. 

Max immediately noticed the shift in your expression, the lightness in his voice fading as he took in your sudden change in demeanor. “Did something happen?” he asked, his tone more cautious now.

You hesitated, the weight of Max’s question making your chest tighten. You hadn’t expected him to press, but his concern was genuine, and his eyes softened as he waited for your response. The air felt thick between you, and for a moment, you considered brushing it off. But Max had a way of getting under your defenses, of making you feel like he really wanted to understand. 

“It’s… complicated,” you said, glancing down at the asphalt beneath you for a second. “It ran its course.” 

Max didn’t push any further. Instead, he nodded in understanding, his hand briefly giving your arm a tight squeeze in a way that was somehow more comforting than his words. “I get it,” he said quietly, his voice low. “You don’t have to talk about it if you’re not ready. Just know that I’m here, alright?” 

You managed a small, appreciative smile, feeling the tension in your body begin to ease. Max never made you feel like you had to explain, didn’t make you feel weak for not having everything figured out. It was nice. 

He continued to walk beside you, his pace slow and steady as if he was giving you the space you needed. “It was the same way with Isabella and I… the relationship just wasn’t what we both thought it would be,” Max continued, his voice still calm, his words measured. “You can only go so long pretending things are fine, when deep down, you know they’re not.” 

You looked over at him, surprised. When Isabella had talked about the ending of the relationship, she said similar things - that it ran its course, there was nothing either of them could really do anymore - but hearing the world champion talk about it was different. It was almost hard to imagine him going through anything similar. But the way he spoke, so matter-of-factly, with no shame or anger, made you feel like it wasn’t as unique as it felt. 

Max continued to yap about his relationship, both trying to fill the silence between you but also give you some sort of comfort without you having to go into details, which you were appreciative of. You had missed how much Max talked, how much he could fill the space with his words, without ever putting any pressure on you. 

The two of you stopped as you reached the facade of the Ferrari motorhome, a comforting silence between you for the first time since you saw him. 

“Thanks, Max” you said, your voice more relaxed than before. “For… not pushing, but also sharing everything with me. It helps more than you realize.” 

He glanced at you and gave a half-smile, the usual cheeky glint back in his eyes. “I told you, I’m here for you.” 

You knew Max wasn’t a fan of physical touch. Ever since you were kids, you knew he loathed when someone would try to hug him, or pat his back when he did a good job. But there, in that moment, all you could do was force your arms around him, your body acting on its own before your mind could catch up. 

For a second, he tensed up, caught off guard by the suddenness of it. But then, just as quickly, he relaxed. He didn’t pull away, didn’t seem uncomfortable, and before you knew it, you could feel his hands on your body as well. 

The warmth of his body against yours, the unexpected comfort in the hug, made something shift in your chest. It wasn’t like you needed saving. But being with Max always made you feel less alone, and that was something you knew you couldn’t take advantage of anymore. 

“I don’t know what to say” you whispered, your face pressed against his shoulder, your voice muffled by his polo. 

“You don’t have to say anything.” Max replied softly, his hand rubbing your back. His voice was quieter, much more sincere. “You don’t ever have to explain anything to me. Just know I’m here, always.” 

You pulled back slightly to look at him, your hands still resting on his shoulders as you searched his eyes. There was something in the way he looked at you - no judgment, no pressure - just understanding. 

“Thank you” you said, your voice quieter now as well. “I mean it.” 

Max simply nodded, his gaze softening as he glanced down at you. Suddenly, you remembered his distaste for physical touch, so you moved your hands away from him. 

Your cheeks grew warm with embarrassment. “Sorry about that, I don’t know what came over-” you started 

“You’re fine. I know you needed it” Max interrupted, his voice calm and reassuring. He didn’t seem too bothered by the hug. In fact, there was a certain warmth in his demeanor that made you feel even more at ease. 

The shadow of the Ferrari building rested on the concrete in front of you, a reminder of why you were even in the paddock. The chaos of the weekend all seemed so distant being with Max, that seeing the Ferrari logo sent a jolt of reality back into you. 

You took a step back, glancing back at the building behind you before looking at Max again. “I should probably get back to work.” 

The same realization must’ve hit Max as well, as he cleared his throat and looked up at the red and black facade. 

“Yeah,” Max agreed, his voice almost wistful. He took a half-step back, his hands dropping to his sides though his expression remained soft, like he was holding onto the moment. “Good job, by the way, on the interview for the show.”

The mention of the show caught you off guard. Max was never one to pay attention to the media, especially one that painted him out to be the villain. 

“You watched it?” you asked, curiosity piquing in your voice

He shook his head. “No, but I’ve seen clips floating around.” he admitted, his tone casual but his eyes betraying a hint of genuine interest. “You handled yourself well, honestly you made everything that went down last year… not so important.” 

While the exact questions that you had been asked in that interview were now far from your memory, you do remember being asked about your relationship with Max, how different it was compared to the other drivers since you knew him so long. It had been a touchy subject, but you spoke with complete honesty, knowing how much of your connection with him was private - something you didn’t want to overshare, but realized you couldn’t completely hide. 

Max’s acknowledgement of it now, though, surprised you. 

“I appreciate that,” you said, a smile playing on your lips. “I wasn’t sure how it would come across, honestly. It’s… complicated, you know?” 

Max gave a knowing nod, his eyes soft but focused. “Trust me, I know. But you didn’t give them more than they needed.” his voice had that same reassuring tone as earlier before he chuckled. “I’m just glad you didn’t make me seem like a complete ass too.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, the tension easing a little more with the humor. ‘Oh, I wouldn’t do that to you,” you teased lightly, rolling your eyes. “I care about you too much for that.” 

Max raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Really?”

“Really” you replied with a grin, “You might be a pain in the ass sometimes, but you’re still one of my closest friends.” 

Max let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “You’re lucky I'm not offended by that.” 

“Oh I know” you said playfully before letting out a long sigh. “But I should actually get back to work now.” 

Max chuckled softly. “Go on, I’m sure there’s plenty more to do. But don’t stress too much, yeah?”

“I’ll try not to,” you said, “Thanks again Max. Good luck out there.” 

You watched him walk off for a moment, just like you had for the past two years, before you turned back to the Ferrari motorhome, ready to tackle the rest of the day.

======

The paddock had quieted down as the teams slowly filtered out, the buzz of activity from qualifying hours behind you. Without any additional content to film for the day, you found yourself back in your hotel room earlier than expected, a rare bit of downtime. 

You emerged from the bathroom, steam still hanging in the air, wrapped in your favorite comfy pajama set. Despite the heat outside, your room was chilled to the perfect temperature, giving you an excuse to snuggle up in comfort. 

Normally, after a long day at the track, you’d settle under the covers with a hot cup of tea, diving into editing your photos. But with the last remnants of daylight still spilling through the window, you decided to sit at the desk instead. The view of the town spread out before you, the golden hues of sunset casting a peaceful glow across the streets below. It was the calm you craved, though it didn’t quite settle the restlessness in your mind. 

While Max had done his best to get you out of the crowd and calm you down earlier in the day, the overwhelmingness of it all still haunted your thoughts. The flash of the cameras, the pressure of being surrounded by people, the suffocating feeling of being so exposed. It was an invisible weight you couldn’t shake off. 

You distracted yourself in the best way possible - throwing yourself into your work. Along with the photos from qualifying, you had files of photos from past Grand Prix’s that you never got to edit. The disregarded, B-roll snaps. The ones of the team goofing off, being actually human. The ones that would end up on your photography Instagram and not Ferrari’s.

You scrolled through the gallery, flipping past the perfectly composed shots of drivers in their element and instead landing on the more candid moments. There was one of Carlos and Charles trying to sneak past the media, both of them cracking up, trying to hide behind their oversized sunglasses and floppy hats. Another was of Lando sitting on the edge of the pit wall, yawning and stretching in between stretching in between practice sessions, looking utterly exhausted but still managing a cheeky grin. You smiled softly as you clicked through each of these moments, knowing that while the fans might only see the polished, perfect images, you had the privilege of seeing them as people, not just athletes. 

You began to edit, the familiar routine soothed your fraying nerves. The gentle tapping of your fingers on the keys, the soft click of the mouse, it was grounding in a way nothing else had been all day. A series of photos - Ferrari mechanics huddled together laughing as they shared a joke - was your focus now. You always enjoyed capturing these moments. They were unguarded, full of life and personality. 

As the editing process pulled you further into the flow of work, your thoughts began to settle, the weight of the crowd and the chaos from earlier starting to fade into the background. Time slipped away without you realizing it, until your phone buzzed on the deck in front of you, pulling you out of your concentration. The screen lit up with a message from Charles: Have you seen this?

You furrowed your eyebrows as you picked up your phone, a small flutter of unease forming in your chest. It wasn’t unusual for Charles to send you things, often funny memes - he was chronically online afterall. But there was something about the tone of the message that made you pause. You clicked on the message, half-expecting something lighthearted, but when the link opened, your heart sank. 

It was a post from the photographer. The same one that frequently invaded the drivers’ privacy and shared snippets of the paddock that the general public wasn’t allowed to see. The caption read: CAUGHT IN THE ACT: Max and Ferrari photographer/F1 content creator y/n shared a surprising moment at the Red Bull Ring as Max helped her away from the crowds. Is the Dutchman off the market again?

The image accompanying it was one of you and Max from earlier in the day, when he had pulled you through the crowd. His hand had been around yours, and though you were hardly aware of it at the time, the photo had been perfectly timed, capturing the moment with the two of you caught in the middle of a small laugh. It was innocent enough when you looked at it, but the context added a layer of gossip that neither of you needed. 

Curiosity got the best of you as you scrolled down to the comments, reading everything that everyone had to say. Some fans had already started speculating about a possible relationship, while others were questioning whether there was any truth to the rumors about you and Max from a few years ago. 

You sat back in the chair, massaging your temples, trying to push away the gnawing anxiety that threatened to rise. It was frustrating. You had worked so hard to carve out your own space in the F1 world, to be known for your skills and your work, not for your relationships. And here you were, once again caught in the glare of a spotlight you never asked for. 

The devil on your shoulder whispered in your ear to run. Cut Max off again so you’d never have to deal with shit like this again. 

You shook your head, as though trying to physically dislodge the thought. Cutting Max off had seemed like a viable solution once before, back when the rumors had first started circling a few years ago. The weight of constant attention, the unwanted speculations - it had been too much then. But Max hadn’t been the one who had caused that strain. It was the situation, the pressure, and the way everything had spiraled out of control. You hadn’t wanted to lose that connection with him, but it had been a protective instinct, one you couldn’t quite ignore in that moment of panic. 

But now… now things were different. You weren’t that person anymore, and neither was Max. 

You exhaled sharply, staring at the screen in front of you, the comments still scrolling endlessly below the post. It was hard to ignore the pull of curiosity, but each new comment made the knot in your stomach tighten. There were even a few insults mixed in, questioning your motives, accusing you of using Max for attention. 

This wasn’t what you wanted. You weren’t in this for the drama. You didn’t care about the headlines, about being in the center of the gossip. You cared about the work, about capturing the moments that mattered, about the people behind the helmets and the brands. 

But the reality of the world you had stepped into meant that everything could be turned into a story. Even the smallest moments, like a laugh shared with a friend, could be twisted and misinterpreted. 

Your phone buzzed again, snapping you out of your spiraling thoughts. Another message from Charles: Are you okay? Let me know if you want to talk. 

You blinked, the words settling in a bit more. Charles had always been kind, always trying to help you navigate the chaos of life in the paddock. But the last thing you wanted was for him to feel like he had to protect you, or worse, get caught up in the drama. He had enough on his plate already. 

I’m fine. Just a bit overwhelmed, you know? You typed back, staring at the screen before pressing send. It’s just the way this stuff gets out of hand so quickly. I appreciate you checking in though.

The message sent, but your phone felt heavier in your hand than it had moments before. You stared at the screen, the buzzing of notifications a constant reminder that you weren’t in control here. 

The temptation to shut everything out, to disconnect, was powerful. But running away from the noise didn’t stop it from following you. You needed to keep moving forward. This wasn’t the first time you’d faced something like this, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Still, the thought of dealing with the backlash - online and possibly in person - was enough to make you want to crawl under the covers and forget about everything for the rest of the night. 

Instead, you clicked on the next photo to edit, your fingers moving methodically as you lost yourself in the familiar task again. This was your element. Behind the lens. In the background. Not the subject, not the story. Just the creator. 

Monza, Italy

Monza was one of your favorite tracks. Regardless of your contractual obligations to like it because your employer was Ferrari, you loved the history, the speed, and the fact it was a beautiful track to photograph. 

You, Isabella, Charles and Carlos were on track walks as the morning sun cast long shadows on the tarmac. The boys were in deep conversation with their engineers about the differences in the track from last year, while you and Isabella walked several feet behind them, capturing them in the action. 

You raised your camera to snap a picture of Charles, his figure framed perfectly against the towering grandstands in the distance. He was talking intently to his engineer, gesturing to one of the corners, and his face was etched with concentration. Carlos, not too far ahead, was listening attentively, his posture relaxed but his attention unwavering. They looked so in sync with the track, every move purposeful and deliberate, just like the machines they commanded. 

A few of the other drivers were doing their walk as well. Valtteri had already lapped you guys once or twice pedaling around on his bike, looking far more relaxed than you’d expect before a race weekend. Pierre and his engineer were also far ahead of the Ferraris, their pace much quicker than your group. It always amazed you how every driver had their own approach to each track. 

It wasn’t long into your walk that you heard the sound of a familiar lisp behind you. You turned your head, your gaze falling on none other than Max himself. To your side, you could see Isabella’s camera clicking away at the boys in front of you, completely oblivious to the sight behind. 

Max was talking GP’s ears off, the topics most likely ranging from everything to nothing. Out of habit, you raised your camera once more, getting shots of the duo in their natural habitat. Max must’ve heard you, because his gaze flicked over, a playful grin on his face. 

“Trying to avoid me?” he asked, his voice teasing

You rolled your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips. “Not at all,” you replied, though you couldn’t help but laugh as you raised your camera slightly. “Just doing my job.” 

The two of you returned your attention to what you had been focused on prior to the interaction. You were about to chime in on Charles’ conversation, but before you could, Isabella whispered. 

“What is going on between you and Max?” she asked 

Your eyes widened for a moment, her question catching you off guard. There was something going on between the two of you, you just didn’t think Isabella was the right person to tell, after her history with him. 

“I-” you started, trying to find the right words. “There’s nothing going on. Max and I go way back. It’s complicated.” 

The look that Isabella gave you showed that she could see right through you. “Oh come on. I’m not stupid. He dragged you out of the crowd in Austria, and I see the way you two look at each other.” she said. “If you’re worried I’m gonna be mad because Max and I dated, I’m not.” 

You blinked, caught off guard by her directness. The tightness that had been slowly building in your chest instantly disappeared, and you couldn’t help but to feel a bit more exposed. 

“Yeah, I mean um…” you began, not sure if you were ready to come to terms with the ideas floating in your head. You glanced over your shoulder one last time to ensure that Max was way out of earshot. “I may still have feelings for Max again.” 

Isabella raised an eyebrow, her expression slightly softening as she took in your words. She didn’t look shocked or judgmental - just curious, like she’d expected this at some level. It was hard to tell if it was because she knew you well enough or if it was her own history with Max that made the situation feel less complicated for her. 

“I had a feeling.” she began, her voice calm. “And I can tell that he still has feelings for you too.” 

Your head cocked slightly, curiosity flooding through. “How do you know?” 

Isabella took a deep breath, and just like you had moments earlier, turned to make sure Max was out of range. “Before we broke up, I saw him lurking on your socials - nothing crazy, just looking to see what you were up to, like he missed you.”

Your breath caught in your throat at Isabella’s words. The idea of Max keeping an eye on your socials, even after everything that had happened between you two, hit you harder than you’d expected. It made sense in a way - Max had always been a little hard to read, but that subtle action… it felt personal. It felt like something more than just idle curiosity. 

“He was?” you asked, your voice quieter than you had intended. Hearing it come from Isabella of all people made your head spin. 

Isabella nodded slowly, her eyes softening even more as she gave you a sympathetic look. “Yeah. Again, not in a creepy way or anything - more like he was just checking in. He’d always been interested in what you were up to. He’d ask us how you were even when things between you and I were … rocky.” 

You swallowed, unsure whether you were relieved or confused by the information. Did this mean Max had been silently holding onto something? Had he always felt this way, or was it a recent development? The thought of him lingering in the background of your life like that - no matter how subtle - stirred something within you.

“I-I’m sorry” you said, the words slipping out before you could stop them

Isabella gave you a small, reassuring smile, as if she understood the confusion in your voice. “You don’t have to apologize,” she said gently, her tone still calm. “I’m not upset, really. I just think Max has been… uncertain about a lot of things. You know he doesn’t do well with vulnerability.” 

The sound of Max’s voice reached you then, breaking the moment between you and Isabella. He was still talking with GP, but you could see the playful glint in his eyes as he gestured animatedly about something. Even from this distance, it was clear that the pull between you two was still there, unspoken but undeniable. 

======

What also was undeniable was a missing presence in the paddock. While you and Logan hadn’t explicitly talked since he was in your apartment in Monaco, you two would usually wave to each other when passing by in the paddock. 

Your mind began to race with all sorts of thoughts, questioning if he had been around and you had just missed him. But something in you knew you didn’t, the blue Williams shirt he always wore on media day stood out like a sore thumb. 

You tried to brush it off, telling yourself maybe he was busy with his team or caught up in a meeting, but something kept tugging at your gut, urging you to look closer. It wasn’t like Logan to completely disappear. You could see drivers, engineers, mechanics, and other staff members move about the paddock, focused on their tasks, yet Logan’s absence was still obvious in its silence. 

“Have you guys seen Logan?” you asked Annalese and Charles as you walked into Ferrari hospitality. 

Annalese and Charles exchanged knowing glances as you stopped in front of them. Their facial expressions ranged, as if they were silently arguing. 

“You haven’t heard?” Charles asked 

You shook your head, brows furrowed in confusion. “Heard what?” 

Annalese shifted uncomfortably, her hands gripping the edge of her cup as she glanced between you and Charles, the silence hanging heavily between you all. Charles sighed, running a hand through his hair, and finally spoke up. 

“Logan isn’t on the grid anymore.” Charles finally said, “He got dropped on Tuesday.” 

The words hit you like a ton of bricks. “Dropped?” you repeated, the word feeling foreign in your mouth as the shock began to settle in. “Why?” 

Annalese exchanged another glance with Charles, her face grim. “Obviously we don’t know everything that’s going on over there.” she said softly, as though she didn’t want to be the one giving you the news. “But Williams decided to part ways with him after everything that’s been happening. It just… wasn’t working out.”

Your heart raced, your mind trying to process what they were saying. While you and Logan hadn’t been on speaking terms for a few months, you knew he had always been so focused, so dedicated to the team. He’d been through a lot over the past year and a half, but you never imagined it would come to this. You thought he was pushing through. You thought he would find his way. 

You thanked the duo for the information before you made your way up the stairs to one of the lounges. The lounge was empty, which you were silently thankful for. You don’t know what you would’ve done if you had to talk to anyone. 

As you laid down on the couch, thoughts of Logan filled your head. He was probably back in his apartment in the UK, cleaning it out, prepping to move. Or he had already done all that and was on a flight back to the States. Regardless, your heart grew heavy thinking of having to face everything on his own. 

You thought about reaching out, offering a shoulder to cry on if needed. But he wasn’t the one who broke the news to you - Charles and Annalese had. And they probably found out about it from an Instagram post with the word breaking in all caps and bold at the top. 

It wasn’t your place to invade. 

Even if you did reach out, you didn’t know what you would say. Sorry you got dropped? That felt hollow, insufficient. How could you convey the regret you were feeling for not being there when he needed someone the most? How could you fix the distance between you two, which had been growing for months? 

You opted for a way that only you knew how. 

You spent way too much time digging through your camera roll to find a collection of photos of Logan. Professional snapshots of him driving on track, walking around the paddock, but also personal ones, like the trip you had taken to the White Cliffs of Dover, or the goofy photos of him trying to paint like you. The photos were arranged into a collage before you uploaded it as an Instagram story, adding the caption Missing you in the paddock. 

It was small, but a way to acknowledge the void left by his absence, a silent message that you still cared, that you hadn’t forgotten him despite everything. 

As you uploaded the story, your thumb hovered over the screen, debating whether to tag him. You hesitated, thinking that maybe it would seem too much, too soon. But then, in an almost impulsive decision, you tagged his handle, before quickly pulling your finger away from the screen.

The olive branch had been extended. It was up to him whether or not he wanted to accept it. 

======

Most of the weekend was spent trying to forget about the Logan news. You tried not to check your phone obsessively, to avoid waiting for a response that may never come. But each time you thought about it, a part of you felt like you were holding your breath. 

For better or for worse, you were by yourself during the race, out along the barriers trying to capture photos of the team. Each time the blue Williams car drove by, you’d find yourself slightly smiling, only for it to drop when you saw the number forty-three attached to it. 

Fortunately, with each lap that passed, your pity party turned into a rush of adrenaline. You knew Charles, as well as the entire Ferrari team, wanted to win at their home race. And you knew they were all crazy enough to do whatever it took to get there. 

The race seemed to go on forever, as Charles dominated the field. He was well ahead of either McLaren, and showed absolutely no signs of slowing down. 

It was then that you caught a glimpse of Max’s car speeding by - your thoughts immediately drifting to him. Despite everything going on in front of you, you couldn’t escape the pull of the memories you had with him and the fact he had been stalking you on social media. Your stomach fluttered for a brief second before you shook your head and snapped another photo, trying to focus on the race once more. 

As the laps left moved down to the single digits, you hopped in the golf cart to get to the pit wall before the chequered flag was waved. 

You pressed up against the wire fencing, hoping to capture each car as they passed through the final laps. You could feel the tension rising not just from the team, but from the grandstands, hoping for that long awaited home victory. 

And when that chequered flag waved, Charles was the first one over the finish line. 

Your camera captured Charles, the team, and the grandstands at lightning speed. Every angle you could take, you did. This is what the fans had waited five years for. 

The podium and the celebrations that followed late into the night were a blur. Just like in Monaco, the entire town came alive from the victory. It was overwhelming, but in the best possible way. 

But as you finally got into bed that night, your head doing cartwheels from the amount you had to drink, your mind wandered to Logan and Max. You hoped that the American was okay, and that the Dutchman would finally man up and make a move. 

Monte Carlo, Monaco

The coffee dates you had started with Max earlier in the season slowly turned into meeting up with each other whenever you could, no matter the time of day. Whether it was you playing with his cats as he exercised out on his balcony, or him watering your plants in the background of your Zoom meetings, you guys would always make time for each other. 

It felt easy, comfortable - like the two of you had fallen into a rhythm that neither of you anticipated but both of you were secretly grateful for. The spontaneity of it all was both exciting and calming. One moment, you’d be in a rush, prepping for a shoot or editing photos late into the night, and next, you’d get a message from Max, asking if you had time to talk. 

The racing calendar had prompted for a three week break, allowing you and Max some well needed rest at home. Max had brought the cats over to your apartment, and he was playing with them in the living room as you were preparing dinner for the two of you. The sound of Jimmy’s meows mixed with Max’s occasional laugh as he jumped on his lap, swatting at the toy you had set up earlier. Sassy was perched on your cabinet, watching you as you made pasta. 

“I swear she loves you more than she does me” Max called from the living room as he watched Sassy perched on the cabinet, her eyes fixed on you like you were the most fascinating thing in the world. 

You chuckled softly, stirring the pasta boiling in the pot. “It’s probably the pasta” you teased, glancing over your shoulder to find Max grinning. “She knows good food when she sees it.” 

Max shook his head dramatically. “She’s such a traitor.” he muttered, though his voice was light with amusement. “Have you thought about getting a pet?”  

You pondered the question for a moment, “Maybe…” you trailed off back into thought. “I just don’t know if I’d have time for one, with all the traveling, you know?” 

Max nodded, “I get that. It’s tough leaving these two all the time.” he said as Jimmy snuggled up in his arms. “But if you were to get one, what would you name it?” 

“I wouldn’t name them after clubs in Monaco, that’s for sure” you teased before tilting your head slightly, letting the question hang in the air for a moment. “Knowing me, I’d name it after an artist, like Donatello or something.” 

“An artist or a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle?” Max chuckled 

You rolled your eyes, but before you could respond, your phone ringer dinged, signalling you got a text. Your eyes darted around the kitchen, looking for any sign of your phone, only for it to be resting on the coffee table in the living room. 

“Can you check and see who it is? I don’t wanna miss it if it’s work related.” You asked

Max nodded, reaching for your phone. You watched as his eyebrows furrowed at the screen in his hands. Max’s fingers paused for a moment as he read the message, his expression shifting from casual curiosity to something more unreadable. You noticed his lips pressed into a thin line, his relaxed demeanor now clouded with a hint of concern. He didn’t say anything for a beat, just kept staring at the screen. 

“Is everything okay?” you asked, the sudden silence between you two unsettling. 

Max didn’t immediately respond. He looked up at you, then back down at the phone, as if weighing something in his mind. “It’s… Logan,” he said finally, his voice careful.

Your stomach dropped at the mention of Logan’s name. You hadn’t heard from him since that morning in your apartment, and the thought of him now, unexpectedly, made your pulse race a little faster. 

Max’s reaction made sense now. During one of your late night chats, you had filled him in on what happened with you and Logan. You could tell he was mad how Logan handled you while both of you were intoxicated, despite how the American treated you when sober. 

Max’s eyes stayed on you as you absorbed the news, clearly trying to gauge your reaction. ‘Do you want me to read it?” he asked, his voice gentle. 

You shook your head, taking a deep breath before walking over to where Max was in the living room. “No, I’ll look at it,” you said quietly, trying to sound steady. You needed to be in control of this, no matter how much it made your stomach churn.

“Hey, I saw your post a few weeks ago. Just wanted to let you know I have an IndyCar test with MSR in November.” 

The message on your phone seemed innocuous at first, just a simple update, but something about it made your stomach tighten.

You stood there for a moment, staring at the words, not sure how to process the sudden shift. It was strange - Logan had always been a mix of casual and serious when it came to racing, but this felt different. The way he was reaching out now, after so long, felt distant in a way. 

You took a slow breath and glanced over at Max, who was watching you closely. He hadn’t moved, hadn’t said anything, but his expression spoke volumes - caution, concern, and perhaps even a hint of frustration. The silence between you felt heavy, like a quiet storm waiting to pass. 

Max spoke first, breaking the tension. “So… is he just checking in?” His voice was guard, but you could hear the underlying hint of something deeper - protectiveness, maybe?

You shook your head, trying to shake off the swirling in your head. “I don’t know what it is, honestly. He’s been quiet for so long…” you began, running a hand through your hair. “I know I left the door open for him to reach out, but it’s just odd that he popped up the second he had another test lined up. Like he wants me to see how much better I am without him.” 

Max remained silent for a moment, his gaze never leaving you, as if trying to decipher what you were feeling. “Do you think he’s trying to make you feel guilty?” he asked, considering the scenario from all angles. 

Immediately, you shook your head, dismissing the idea. “No, he’s not the kind of guy to do that.”

Max nodded slowly, though his expression didn’t shift. “Got that. Maybe he’s testing the waters to see if you’re still willing to have him in your life?” 

“Maybe?” you questioned. “I made it clear that I only wanted to be friends with him that morning.”

“I know you did,” he said, shifting up straighter, careful not to wake the cat that had fallen asleep in his lap. “You don’t have to respond. And if you do, let it be on your terms. Don’t let him pull you back into that uncertainty.” 

The sincerity in his voice lifted a weight off your shoulders. Just like he did in Spielberg, he managed to pull you out of your thoughts and back down to earth. 

“You’re right.” you said softly, meeting his gaze. “I guess I just needed to hear it from someone else.”

“Of course,” he said, a smile on his face as he got up from his spot on the floor. He set Jimmy, who was still sound asleep, on your couch before moving towards the kitchen. “But if you do decide to reach out or talk to him again, I’m here, okay? No judgments. Just… you.” 

“Thanks, Max. Seriously.”

He gave you a teasing grin as he grabbed a plate from the cupboard. “Now, about dinner - if you’re done having your crisis, I’m ready to eat. I was promised pasta, not a therapy session.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh as you moved to grab the bottle of wine on the counter. “Right.” 

======

As the night went on, so did the glasses of wine. Dinner had long been eaten, and the dishes were cleaned up. You and Max stood out on your balcony, watching over the Monaco harbor, glasses of wine in your hands. The city lights twinkled below, reflecting off the water, creating a peaceful hum that matched the evening. The cats were inside, both entertained by the new scratching post you had set up for them. 

Max leaned up against the railing next to you, the breeze moving in a way that let you get a whiff of his cologne. His gaze was fixed on the horizon, but you could tell his mind wasn’t entirely on the view. He had a thoughtful look on his face, the one that always made you curious about what he was thinking. 

“What’s on your mind?” you asked softly, unable to stop yourself

Max didn’t immediately respond. He gave a small shrug, still looking over the harbor. “I don’t know.” he said eventually, his voice low, like he was still thinking through whatever had been on his mind. “Just… everything.” 

You took a sip of your wine, letting the cool liquid slide down your throat, giving you a moment to think. It was clear that his thoughts weren’t about everything, or everyone. 

“Are you still thinking about Logan?” you finally asked 

Max’s head turned slightly at your question, his gaze shifting from the harbor to you, but again, he didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he followed in your footsteps and took a long sip of his wine, his eyes lingering on the glass for a second before meeting yours. 

“It’s hard not to, right?” He asked, “You’ve got a lot of history with him.” 

You could feel the weight of his words, the implication that what happened between you and Logan still lingered in the air, unspoken but present. Your stomach tightened a little, and you didn’t know it was because of Max’s casual mention of Logan, or the fact you had asked a question you weren’t sure you were ready to answer yourself.

“I know” you said after a beat, your voice quieter now. “I know you’re looking out for me, but like I said, Logan was a mistake. If I were to reply to him, it would be as friends.” 

You don’t know what came over you next. Maybe it was the liquid courage in your veins, or maybe it was the fact that the confession was going to kill you unless you told him, but you continued to talk. 

“I also made another mistake, Max” you admitted, looking down at the liquid swirling in your glass before you met his gaze once again, coming to terms that you were going to confess. “I should have never ran away from you years ago.” 

Max was quiet for a long moment, the only sound the soft rustling of the breeze and the distant hum of the city below. You couldn’t help but watch his reaction, trying to gauge if your words had landed in the way you intended. The confession felt raw, more than you had intended, but it was out now, hanging between the two of you like a fragile thing that could shatter at the slightest touch. 

Max’s lips pressed together for a second, and he turned his gaze back to the water. You couldn’t tell if he was processing your words, or just avoiding looking at you. The silence stretched on, and you began to regret everything you’d just said. Maybe it was too much. Maybe he didn’t need to hear it. 

“You don’t have to apologize for that.” Max finally spoke, his voice much softer now. “I know you had your reasons for what you did back then, and I have my reasons for how I reacted. But I think we’re both adult enough to move past it.” 

You felt a weight lift off your chest, though it was still tinged with uncertainty. His words weren’t an immediate fix, but they offered a glimmer of reassurance. You had expected judgment, maybe even a withdrawal from him, but instead, he was speaking with a level of understanding you hadn’t anticipated. 

“I didn’t want to run away from us” you added, your voice barely a whisper, the truth of the moment still biting at you. The post from Spielberg flashed in your mind. “I think I was just… scared. I didn’t know how to handle everything that was happening, with you and with me. It wasn’t just about us. It was everything.” 

Max glanced at you then, his eyes softening, the earlier tension in his posture easing. “You don’t have to explain. We were both young and dealing with things we didn’t know how to handle,” he said, his voice calm, almost like a quiet comfort. “I saw the posts too.” 

“You did?” you asked, your head tilting slightly. It was unlike him to pay attention to the gossip and the rumors. 

“I’m on social media a lot more than you think.” he chuckled, his tone lighter than it had been before.

“Oh I know, I heard you kept tabs on me when we weren’t talking.” you teased, nudging your elbow into his side.

Max let out a laugh, shaking his head as he glanced over at you. “Guilty as charged,” he said with a smirk. “But I never commented or liked anything. Just… well, you know, checking in now and then.” His expression softened again as he added, “I wasn’t stalking, just… curious.” 

You raised an eyebrow, trying to keep the mood light, but part of you couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed by the thought. “Curious about what, exactly?” you asked, teasing but with an edge of vulnerability in your voice. 

Max took another sip of his wine before responding, his tone thoughtful. “Curious if you’d figured things out. Curious if you’d be okay. And, if I’m honest, curious if we’d ever talk again.” He turned to face you more fully, his eyes serious but still warm. “I didn’t want to push. I didn’t know what you needed, or if you needed anything from me at all.” 

He took a step closer to you as he kept talking. “And when you left, I thought I needed to get over you, to move on. I didn’t specifically pick Isabella because she was close to you. I did it just because she was there that night. And then for a good while, it seemed you had everything figured out. You had Logan, and I felt like I messed up my chances with you.”

You felt a pang in your chest as Max spoke, the vulnerability in his voice surprising you. You hadn’t expected him to open up like this, to share what had been on his mind all these years. 

You swallowed, your grip on your wine glass tightening slightly. “I didn’t think you needed to get over me,” you said quietly, your eyes searching his. “I thought you moved on.” 

Max shook his head, his gaze steady on you. “It wasn’t that simple. I told myself I needed to, but I couldn’t. I tried to convince myself I was fine, but… I wasn’t. I just didn’t know how to reach out to you again after everything that happened.” 

His words struck a chord deep inside you. It was strange to hear that he’s been in pain too, that the distance between you hadn’t been something you’d imposed on yourself. 

“Max, I’m sorry… I never meant to -” you began

“Schat, you don’t need to apologize. We’re both past it.” he interrupted, though his voice was still soft. “I think it’s now a matter of where do we go from here?” 

“That depends,” you said, turning to him, “What do you want?” 

Max paused, his expression softening as he processed your question. His eyes locked onto yours, his lips parting slightly as though he were carefully weighing his words. You had a feeling you knew what he was going to say, and you were perfectly set on the offer. 

“I want to make things right.” he said. “I don’t want to keep wondering what could have been.” 

You felt your heart race, the intensity of the moment sweeping over you like a tidal wave. It felt like everything you’d both been holding back, all the years of uncertainty and unspoken words, were finally coming to a head. 

“I don’t want to wonder either,” you admitted, your voice quieter, yet much more certain. You reached out and gently placed your hand on his arm, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingers.

“Then let’s see where this goes,” he said as he stepped closer to you, his body language open and vulnerable. “Together.” 

The words settled in the space between you, hanging there, like an invitation that was too simple, too perfect to refuse. You felt a warmth spread through your chest, the kind that made everything feel right again, like you were exactly where you were meant to be. 

You stepped closer to him, closing the distance until you could feel the faint beat of his heart, both of you drawn together. 

Without another word, Max cupped your face with his free hand, and kissed you. It was soft at first, tentative, like both of you were finally allowing yourselves to feel what had been buried for so long. But then, as if the years past melted away, the kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, more real. The taste of wine lingered between you, but the meaning of the kiss was much more intoxicating than the drinks prior. 

When you pulled back, breathless but smiling, you both lingered in the moment, eyes locked, hearts still racing. Max’s forehead rested against yours, as you spoke. 

“So how about we celebrate with a batch of cookies?” you asked knowing you had refilled your cookie jar for him. 

“It’s like you read my mind” he chuckled as he took your hand, leading you back into the familiarity of your apartment. 

São Paulo, Brazil

Brazil was wet. 

The amount of rain that had fallen from the sky was borderline monsoon level. Every step you took was filled with the squelch of water in your socks and shoes. The normally buzzing paddock was now silent as team members huddled in their motorhomes and garages waiting for the go ahead to start qualifying. 

You and Isabella had tried to keep busy, as well as the fans engaged, by snapping photos and forcing some of the engineers into videos. But no matter how many artistic snapshots of raindrops you took or insane mini mic questions you asked, the two of you repeatedly ended up taskless.

The two of you found yourselves in the hospitality suite that overlooked the pitlane, sitting at the window as you watched the rain fall. In the ten or fifteen minutes you had been there, you’d already seen Kimi Antonelli be pushed out into the pouring rain and a few Williams engineers race rubber duckies. 

You leaned your head against the glass, watching the chaos below, feeling a strange mix of boredom and amusement. The unpredictability of it all - cars that should have been speeding down the straights now parked and idle - felt like a strange world.

“Have you heard from Logan at all?” Isabella asked as she stared at the Williams engineers down below, dragging you out of your thoughts.

The phone in your pocket grew heavier as you straightened up slightly, hesitating to answer the question. While you had filled her in about everything with Max, you failed to give her one minor detail.

“Uh yeah, I actually did. A few weeks ago.” You admitted, “He’s doing some testing with an IndyCar team sometime this month. Not really sure. I didn’t reply.” 

Isabella raised an eyebrow at your words, her gaze shifting from the engineers below to you, a knowing look forming. “You didn’t reply?” she repeated slowly, her words laced with curiosity.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, feeling the weight of her gaze. “I didn’t know what to say” you admitted, trying to defend your decision. “And plus, I was a little occupied with Max.”

“You made things official with Max the same day Logan texted you?” she asked, shock now coming into her words. 

A sigh escaped your lips as the weight of the conversation pressed down on you. “I didn’t plan it that way.” you explained, your hands fidgeting in your lap. “It just… kind of happened. It wasn’t like I was purposefully avoiding Logan or anything, I just didn’t know how to respond.”

Isabella remained silent for a moment, her eyes narrowing slightly as she took in your words. The silence hung between you for a moment, the rain outside intensifying, the sound of it hammering against the windows in the otherwise quiet room. 

“So, what are you going to do?” she asked after a beat, her tone softer but still inquisitive. “Because if I recall correctly, you gave him the opportunity to reach out, and he did.” 

“You’re right” you said, running a hand through your wet hair. “But I don’t even know how to bring it up. I can’t just text him and act like nothing’s changed. I don’t wanna string him along.” 

“You owe it to him,” Isabella said, her tone gentle but firm. “And to yourself, to be honest. He deserves to know where you stand, even if it’s awkward.” 

Her eyes lingered on you, hinting that she wanted you to reply now. Slowly, you took your phone out of your pocket and unlocked the device. 

You stared at the screen, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. You could feel Isabella’s gaze on you, her silent encouragement urging you on to take the plunge. The weight of the conversation, of everything left unsaid, pressed down on you. Logan deserved more than this silence. 

With one last deep breath, you typed out the message that had been swirling in your head for the last few weeks. 

Hey, congrats on the test, hoping it goes well. Sorry it took so long to get back to you, I’ve been busy with work. 

You read it over once, then twice. It felt right - congratulating him on his accomplishment while not seeming too overboard. You figured it wouldn’t be great to bring up Max quite yet, but you knew you couldn’t avoid it forever. So, you added: 

I’ve been meaning to let you know where I am, and things have changed a bit on my end. I’ve started seeing someone else, but like I’ve said multiple times, I’m always open to being friends. 

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you hit send. 

Isabella watched as you set the phone down, the tension still in the air between you. “It’s done.” she said quietly, her voice reassuring. 

“I hope I didn’t make things worse” you replied, your gaze flicking nervously to the phone on the table, waiting for a response. 

Minutes passed, and just as you were starting to second-guess yourself, the phone buzzed.

Yeah I get it, I appreciate the honesty. I’m happy for you, but you should know I don’t wanna throw away that friendship. 

You read the message out loud, prompting a smile on Isabella’s face. “See? Not so bad, right?” 

“Yeah, yeah. It was fine.” you said, rolling your eyes, but still forming a small smile on your face. 

======

For the first time since you started working in Formula 1, a super Sunday was on the table. The incredulous amounts of rain pushed qualifying to Sunday morning, prompting an early wake up for everyone. Texting with Logan had made things a bit better, the two of you had been chatting back and forth nonstop since you finally replied. 

You could already hear the sounds of drill guns and dremels in the distance as the teams prepped for the rescheduled qualifying session. The rain had been relentless, but now, under the early morning light, the drizzle had calmed just enough to let everyone get back to business. The Celcius in your hand was enough to get you started in the morning, but you knew you needed a second wind later in the day. 

As you passed by Ferrari’s hospitality to get to the garage, the familiar Red Bull logo loomed over you. The temptation was strong, and for a brief moment, you thought about slipping into the blue building. You could grab a can without anyone noticing. But then you remembered you did have a commitment to Ferrari, and you couldn’t be caught repping another team. 

Instead, you took another sip of your Celsius, and with a deep breath, you walked straight to the bright red garage. 

Both Ferrari cars did as well as they could in the crappy conditions. No one in the paddock was having a good time, especially Max. While he had qualified twelfth, he was pushed back to seventeenth due to his combustion engine being changed. 

As the race went underway, it was as chaotic as you could have imagined it. Water had pooled into places no one ever expected, and seemed to throw everyone off of their game except Max.

Growing up, you knew Max was going to succeed in the most challenging conditions. In grade school you would overhear him telling stories about how he was out karting all day in the rain and snow, going until he felt more than comfortable. You thought it was absurd, risking frostbite and illness for a career he wasn’t even sure he would get. But watching him now, claw back from seventeenth, in these miserable conditions, it all made sense. 

Max was the first one to cross the finish line, leading to a roaring celebration from your garage neighbors. You felt a strange, bittersweet joy wash over you as you snapped the photos of Charles finishing in fifth. You couldn’t help but to be proud of your boyfriend, it was his race from start to finish. A flawless performance that left the rest of the grid in his wake. 

As Carlos had crashed earlier in the race, once Charles crossed the finish line, you made your way back to the garage, planning to prepare for the interviews. You were fiddling with the mini mic when Isabella approached you. 

“What are you doing?” she asked, causing you to look up. 

You blinked for a moment, processing her question. “Uh, prepping for Charles’ post race stuff.” you said as if it was obvious. 

“Don’t you wanna go see the podium?” she asked, the roar from the crowd in the distance signalled that the top three had parked in parc ferme. 

“It’s okay, I don’t have to. There’s work that needs to be done.” you replied, scanning the area to see if Charles had returned yet. 

Isabella furrowed her eyebrows “You don’t want to see Max? Especially after that drive?” 

You shrugged in response. “I’ll see him on the flight back” you answered. The two of you had already arranged plans for you to join him on his jet. 

Isabella looked at you like you were the hardest math problem she’s ever had to solve. “Go to the podium,” she ordered. “You always covered for me when I ran off. I got Charles’ stuff.” 

She walked over to where you were, taking the mini mic and all of its wiring from you. Before you could open your mouth to protest, she glared at you again. “Go!” 

Without another word spoken between you two, you darted out of the garage and down the pitlane to where the celebrations were. The adrenaline from the race still lingered in the air as the teams waited for their drivers to come out. Alpine was on one side, and Red Bull on the other. 

All three drivers had gone to the cooldown room when you arrived. You opted to stay towards the back of the crowds, hoping and praying that no one would question what you were doing there. While you both had told family and a few friends about your relationship, it hadn’t been made completely public yet. You wanted to enjoy the beginnings of it out of the public eye and the scrutiny. 

Pierre and Esteban looked thrilled as they took their places on the podium, flashing wide smiles and quite literally jumping for joy. Rightfully deserved, of course. You could hear their names being chanted, their team and fans rallying behind them. But the atmosphere shifted slightly as Max stepped out. 

The crowd’s roar somehow grew even louder, and you could see his trademark smile lighting up his face as he made his way to the top step. The drive would surely go down in history, and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride swell inside as you watch his raw emotion to finally getting another win.  

A smile broke onto your face as you heard the Dutch national anthem for the first time in months. It was hard to believe that a short year ago you were wishing to never hear it again, even if it was for your own country. But there you stood in the crowd, quietly singing along. 

During the anthem, Max’s eyes scanned the crowd, searching for something. When his gaze met yours, hidden in the shadows of the celebrations, he relaxed. The smile that was already plastered on his face grew a tad wider as you waved. Nothing flashy, nothing too overt, just a brief shared moment that only the two of you would truly understand. 

While Red Bull wasn’t your team, Max sure as hell was your driver. 

======

You were thankful that Max’s plane had taken off in the late morning the next day. As much as you loved getting back home sooner rather than later, the rest was well deserved after a late night of celebrations. 

The two of you sat next to each other, the hum of the engines filling the quiet space between you. You were both exhausted, but the thought of Max now within a race reach of winning the championship planted in your minds, neither of you could rest.

A piece of paper that had every angle of a blank helmet printed on it sat in front of Max while you had your laptop out on a 3D editing software. Both of you were running through ideas for his champion helmet. Max had a gold colored pencil in his hand coloring away on the paper while the occasional click of your keyboard brought his visions to life. 

“I think it’s missing something,” he said, glancing at the rendering on your screen. “Like it looks good as is, but I think it could be better.” 

You glanced at Max, seeing the way he was biting his lip as he stared at the paper in front of him, deep in thought. The gold pencil in his hand was worn down from the hours he’d spent perfecting every detail, but it was clear he wasn’t satisfied. 

“I agree” you said, zooming in on the 3D model. The white and the gold looked good together, but they lacked that extra spark that would tie it all together. 

“What if we added some sparkles to the gold?” He suggested, his eyes wide with curiosity to see what that would look like. 

With a few clicks of your keyboard and taps on the screen, you added a glitter effect to the gold in the helmet. 

Max’s eyes lit up. “Whoa. That’s sick.” 

You stared at the screen, happy with the improvement that was made, but you felt like you could do even better. “What if we added something to the white?” you suggested as you clicked away a bit more. “I can completely undo this if you decide you don’t like it.” 

You watched Max’s reaction closely as you filled some of the white areas with gold marble on the 3D rendering. The effect was subtle but impactful, adding a depth and shine that made the design feel even more dynamic. 

Max’s eyebrows raised slightly, clearly impressed. “That… that’s actually perfect,” he said, almost in disbelief. 

“I’m glad you like it.” you said, brushing your fingers over the touchpad, making small adjustments to the way the gold marbling flowed. “It needed something to balance out the glitter, and I think it brings everything together.” 

“It definitely does.” he said before going quiet again, his head tilted slightly as if he was deep in thought. “Would you wanna design my champion logo?” 

You looked up from the laptop, surprised by his question. “The championship logo?” you repeated, unsure you heard him correctly. 

Max nodded, his fingers tapping lightly on the paper, his eyes distant as he thought it over. “Yeah, you know how I’ve had a logo for every championship I’ve won. I want you to design this years. Something that symbolizes the achievement.” 

You blinked a few times, processing his request. The idea of designing something so symbolic for Max was exciting, but also incredibly intimidating. The pressure was higher than with the helmet design - it wasn’t just a visual statement for the race; it was a symbol of part of his career, his hard work, his journey through the season. 

Max could see the hesitation in our face. He raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk creeping onto his lips as he gently nudged you. “What? You’re not up for the challenge?” 

You shook your head quickly, the excitement already bubbling up inside of you. “No, no. I’m up for it. It’s just a big task. Haven’t done something like that since the Monza livery my first year.” 

“And that livery is why I think you’ll be perfect for it.” he said, his arm wrapped around you, pulling you into him as best as he could in the plane seat.  

You felt your heart race at his words. The Monza livery was a piece you had poured your heart and soul into when you first started with Ferrari, and Max was with you through every step of designing it and bringing it to life. For him to reference it years later made you feel both proud and incredibly humbled. Creating something big for him felt like a huge honor. 

“I mean… if you insist…” you began, a smile growing rapidly on your face before planting a kiss on his cheek. “I’ll start as soon as we get home.” 

Las Vegas, USA

Going into Vegas, you didn’t know what to expect. The flashing lights, magic tricks, and way too many celebrities for you to keep track of were guarantees, but other than that, you were clueless. 

It was the newest track on the calendar, only being the second time in recent history that the World Championship made a stop in Sin City. The entire team was excited as they arrived, but with the Driver’s Championship on the line, you may have been the most. 

Thankfully, to help keep with the facade of nothing going on between you and Max, both of you had to report to the paddock at different times. As much as the two of you had gotten used to the secrecy, it didn’t make it any less frustrating. You were constantly aware of the eyes on you, knowing that anything that you did - any small gesture - could be taken as evidence of a relationship. The last thing either of you wanted was the added pressure of public speculation. 

You were in one of the Ferrari media rooms by yourself, getting your gear together in between the free practices. The hum of conversation from the paddock filtered in through the door, but inside, it was quiet. You took a deep breath, trying to focus on the fact that your laptop wasn’t recognizing your SD card for some reason. 

A frustrated sigh escaped your lips as you tapped the sides of your laptop as if willing it to work. The noise from the paddock was growing louder as other team members filtered in and out, but here you were, stuck trying to troubleshoot a technical issue that you really didn’t have time for. 

You plugged the SD card into another slot, hoping it might just be a bad connection, but nothing happened. You were about to try one more thing when you heard a knock on the door frame. 

“I’ll be right out. I’m dealing with some tech stuff.” you said not even bothering to see who it was. You assumed that it was Annalese needing you for a media meeting. 

You heard the soft chuckle before the voice responded, and it wasn’t Annalese. 

“Tech issues, huh?” The voice was familiar, low, and warm. Your heart skipped a beat as you glanced up, immediately meeting Max’s eyes, the playful glint in his gaze sending a mix of emotions through you. 

“Max!” you said, a little too loudly for your own liking. You rushed him into the room before closing the door behind him, hoping no one saw him in the doorway. Your lips met his briefly, and as you pulled away you asked “What are you doing here?” 

Max shrugged “Thought I’d pay you a visit in between meetings. It’s always nice to see you” he said nonchalantly which confused you even more. 

“Great seeing you too, but how did you even get in here?” you asked knowing the only way into the media areas was with a proper credential. 

Your boyfriend motioned back to the door that had just closed behind him. “Annalese let me in. She’s pretty easy to convince.” 

“You know what? I’m not even surprised” you said, throwing your hands up in defeat. “I have bigger problems to worry about right now.” 

Max gave you a teasing smile, clearly enjoying your flustered state, but there was a tenderness behind his eyes that made you feel a little more at ease. He stepped further into the room, glancing over at your laptop with a raised eyebrow. “Need help?” he asked, his voice warm and easy, as if you weren’t in the middle of a stressful race weekend. 

You huffed, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on you. “I mean if you can get my SD card to register, be my guest. I might just text Isabella and see if she has a second one I can borrow until I can go get a new one.” 

Max took a seat in front of your laptop, and got to work. You watched him for a moment as he tapped a few of the keys, along with unplugged and replugged the SD card in. His eyebrows furrowed as he looked at the screen, before unplugging the SD card and plugging it into a different port. 

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his confusion. “You’re doing literally everything I’ve done.”

“I’m sorry, schat.” he said, frowning as he looked at you. 

You shrugged, clearly over the entire situation. “It’s fine. I’ll just text Isabella and ask her.” 

Fortunately, she did have one and quickly agreed to bring you a spare SD card. Within minutes, you heard her voice on the other side of the door, followed by one belonging to a man. 

You and Max exchanged looks as you guys heard the voice. It was familiar, but you couldn’t quite place where. As the door knob turned, all you could hope was that it was someone who wouldn’t get Max in trouble for being where he shouldn’t. 

Isabella walked in first, a fresh SD card in her hand, and a slight smile on her face. “Hey, I come bearing gifts” she said, but as she took in the fact you weren’t alone in the room, she stiffened. “Uh hey, Max.” 

While the history between Max and Isabella was no secret to anyone, you knew that Isabella had gotten past it. Her sudden change in demeanor was surprising. Isabella glanced at something in the hallway before landing back on you and Max. 

She walked further into the room, to give you the SD card, but the door behind her didn’t close. You glanced over Isabella’s shoulder, heart skipping a beat as you saw who was now standing in the doorway. 

Logan Sargeant. 

His lips formed an awkward smile as he took in the sight of both you and Max. “Hey, guys.”

“Logan, hi.” you began, your voice filled with confusion. “What are you doing here?” 

Logan’s eyes darted to Isabella, who was still standing between you and him. “She invited me, just as a friend. I missed the paddock and figured I’d come say hi.” 

You couldn’t quite hide the tension that crept into the room, as Logan’s casual tone didn’t quite match the undercurrent of unease you could feel simmering. Max knew the two of you had been catching up, that it was all just friendly, but neither of you were expecting him to show up to another Grand Prix. 

“It’s good to see you.” You said before gesturing to Max. “And you know my boyfriend, Max,” 

Logan’s eyebrows raised at you calling Max yours, but he didn’t say anything on the matter. Instead, he offered a wave and a polite “Hey” 

Max straightened up, his posture tightening, but he quickly masked it with a calm smile. “Nice to see you, Logan,” he said, his voice steady, but you could tell he was more aware of the situation than ever. 

Logan gave a small, awkward nod, his eyes flicking between you and Max. There was a brief pause in the room as the three of you gauged what to do next. 

“Yeah, it’s good to see you both,” Logan said again, his words almost too quick, as if he was trying to fill the silence that had lingered for a little too long.

“Well, I still have some stuff to do.” Isabella said, turning towards Logan, “Shall we?” 

With a quiet goodbye, the duo walked out of the room, leaving you and Max alone. As the door closed, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. 

“I was not expecting that.” you said, turning toward your boyfriend.

Max let out a low chuckle, though there was a hint of tension behind it. “Yeah, me neither.” He said, leaning back against the table before his voice softened. “But you introduced me as your boyfriend.” 

You froze for a moment, realizing the weight of the words you’d just said. It hadn’t even occurred to you until now how significant that simple introduction was. It was the first time you’d referred to Max that was in front of someone outside of your tight circle. 

“Yeah,” you said, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “I guess I did.” 

Max’s gaze softened, and for a moment, the tension from Logan’s unexpected visit seemed to vanish. He got up from the chair and walked over to you. “You know, that felt pretty good.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you met his eyes. “It did.” you agreed quietly.

Max pressed his lips against yours, soft and sweet. When you both pulled away, he glanced towards the door. “Now I think it’s time we both get back to work.” 

“Yeah, I have a guest to entertain, I guess” you laughed as you packed up your stuff before sneaking Max out of the Ferrari building. 

As soon as Max was out of your sight, you darted towards the Ferrari garage. Not only did you have a load of content to get that you were missing due to the technical error, but you needed to apologize to a certain American.

You’d spent enough time in the paddock to know that the drivers, especially Max, could be drama queens. The awkwardness you’d felt when Logan had walked into the room was fresh, and you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt. You didn’t want him to think that something he’d done had crossed a line - it was Max being protective. You and Logan had finally gotten back on the right page, and even though things had been a bit complicated in the past, you didn’t want him feeling uncomfortable during his visit.

You made your way down the long hallway, eventually being surrounded by the hum of activity. Mechanics and engineers were busy attending to both cars, but your focus was on finding Logan. You caught sight of him in the corner, talking with one of the engineers, but as soon as he saw you approaching, he turned his attention to you.

“Hey,” you greeted him, a little hesitant. “Can we talk?” 

Logan nodded immediately, noticing the sincerity in your voice. “Yeah, sure.” 

You motioned for him to follow you back down the hall that you just came from, away from the main hustle and bustle. When you were far enough away to have some privacy, you finally let out a breath. 

“Look, I just wanted to apologize for earlier” you said, meeting his gaze. “I didn’t know you’d be here this weekend, and seeing you and Max in the same room really caught me off guard. I didn’t mean to make things weird.” 

Logan blinked a few times, clearly surprised by your directness. After a beat, he gave a small nod. “It’s alright, I mean it was unexpected, sure, but it’s no big deal.” he offered a reassuring smile. 

While you wanted to let out a sigh of relief, you could feel the weight of your apology still hanging in the air, and you wanted to make sure he understood how much you valued your friendship. 

“I didn’t want you to think that something you did or said made me uncomfortable.” you continued, your voice softer now. “It’s really just Max being protective. He’s not exactly the most laid-back guy when it comes to things like this.”

Logan gave a small chuckle, his expression easing. “Yeah, I know. He’s got that look about him. But I’m glad you two found each other again, you seem genuinely happy.” 

You smiled softly, feeling a warm sense of gratitude for Logan’s words. It was clear he wasn’t holding onto any hard feelings, and it meant a lot that he understood the situation.

“Thanks, Logan,” you said, appreciating his kindness, “I will admit though, I have been missing you around the paddock, so this was a nice surprise.”

It was Logan’s turn for his expression to soften as a genuine smile creeped on his face. “I’ve missed it too.” he said, his tone warm. “The paddock, the people… it’s always been a part of who I am, you know?” He paused for a moment before the smile turned into a smirk. “But I will say you guys get spoiled over here in Ferrari. I need to visit more often.” 

You couldn’t help but chuckle as the last bit of tension slipped away. The journey hadn’t been easy for either of you, but hearing him speak so honestly put your mind at ease. 

“You’re welcome to come anytime.” you said “I always get a spare pass that I don’t end up giving away half the time.” 

Logan grinned, his eyes lighting up at the offer. “I might just take you up on that.” he said, his voice playful. “It’s nice that everything’s good between us again. I didn’t want to make anything weird.”

“No, me neither,” you agreed, giving him a reassuring smile. “We’ve got enough drama around here already”

He chuckled “Yeah, no kidding. Especially when it comes to Max.” 

At that point, you both laughed, the mood finally officially lightened. The tension that had been there earlier had dissipated entirely, replaced by the familiarity and ease you’d shared with Logan before things got complicated. It felt like you were back to where you had been. 

“Alright, let’s get you back to the garage before everyone starts speculating that you ran to Williams to get your job back.” you said, glancing back down the hall towards the noise of the machines. 

“Oh please, like I’d ever go back there” 

======

When you weren’t busy cracking jokes with the Ferrari guests or convincing Max that Logan really isn’t as bad of a guy as he thought, you were actually doing your job. Between capturing behind-the-scenes moments, interviewing engineers, and snapping shots of the cars during their time on the track, your weekend was filled with a constant stream of action. 

Since you were in Vegas, both you and Isabella opted to take a gamble and switch drivers for the weekend, meaning you were predominantly covering Carlos. 

As much as you loved following Charles around, the change of not having to hear him whine about how much he missed his dog was refreshing. You adored Charles, as well as the endless stories about Leo, but a change of pace was always nice. It was also nice to work with Carlos one last time, leaving for Williams at the end of the season. 

But what didn’t change was the nerves that surged through you as you took your spot in one of the media pens along the track. You had positioned yourself perfectly between the fences, the practice photos that you took during the formation lap had looked perfect. All that was left was for the lights to go out. 

The roar of engines echoed in the air, vibrating through your body as the lights slowly began to fill red. One by one, they blinked on, and the air around you thickened with anticipation. The final light flickered, and then, - off. 

You were already snapping photos as the cars shot off the line. Each frame clicked into place as you captured the story unfolding right in front of you. 

Even though you had done this week in and week out, your nerves couldn’t help but spike this time around. It wasn’t your first time working with Max behind the wheel since you made it official, but it was the first time this season he could clinch the championship. 

You caught sight of his Red Bull, its blue and red livery standing out against the glint of Las Vegas lights, weaving through the pack. Though you were focused on Carlos’ red Ferrari, you couldn’t help but to snap a few photos of Max as he whizzed by. 

The tension that had settled in your chest slowly started to ease as the race progressed, the rhythm of your work taking over. It was almost as if your camera became an extension of you - each snap, each click pulling you deeper into the action. It also helped that Max was ahead of Lando. 

As the laps ticked down to the single digits, you found yourself once again pressed along the fence that separated the track and pit lane. Carlos was about to cross the line in third, securing another solid finish for Ferrari, but your focus was split between that and Max, who was positioned perfectly in fifth. 

The weight of the moment settled in, along with the pride that came rushing to your chest. You clicked a few photos of Carlos as he crossed the finish line, gathering the energy of the team that squished into the fence beside you. 

But just one garage over, the air was thick with excitement, anticipation, and pride. Max had done it again. 

The Ferrari team members, along with those in Red Bull and Mercedes, sprinted down the pit lane to parc ferme. You weasled your way to the front of it all, snapping photos as Carlos got out of the car and celebrated with the team. 

Your attention quickly turned to Max as he parked next to the red Ferrari. You could feel the adrenaline of the moment vibrate through your body as the crowd roared in celebration, your fingers still hovering over the shutter button, ready to capture every second of what would undoubtedly be another iconic moment in Max’s career. 

As Max stepped onto the car, the energy from his team surged forward. You snapped a few quick photos of him, the expression of triumph evident in his eyes as he raised four fingers in celebration. 

You had to force yourself to tear your attention away from him and back to Carlos. After he celebrated with the team, you snapped a few photos of him as he stuck a fist in the air. You followed Carlos as he congratulated George and Lewis on the Mercedes 1-2, before he found Max amidst the chaos. 

Between the photos that you had taken of him on the car and now, Max had taken off his helmet and balaclava, and for the first time since the end of the race, you could see the smile that beamed on his face. The shutter of your camera was barely heard as you captured the moment between the two drivers. 

You were going to follow Carlos as he was ushered to the cooldown car, but before you could, you felt an arm wrap around your waist. You froze for a second, heart pounding in your chest as the familiar scent of Max’s cologne mixed with the stench of sweat washed over you. The arm around your waist was tight enough to give a protective presence, but loose enough to not hurt you. 

You turned, meeting his eyes - those deep blue-green, focused eyes that always seemed to hold a world of thoughts in them. But tonight, they were something else, something lighter. A look that said he was ready to celebrate. 

“Congrats champ” you said as you looked up at him. 

Max’s lips curved into a smile as he looked down at you, his hand still resting around your waist. There was a certain softness to his gaze now, a quiet joy that radiated through him, despite the whirlwind of celebration around him. 

“Thanks” he said, his voice a mix of pride and something softer, almost vulnerable. “It feels good, you know?” His thumb lightly brushed against your side as you spoke, an unconscious gesture that felt intimate amidst the chaos. 

You couldn’t help but smile back, feeling the heat of the moment settle between the two of you. “You earned it.” you said. The sound of a car horn filled the air, tearing your attention away from him. In the middle of the track were a handful of Rolls Royce’s. 

“I think that’s our cue. I have some interviews to catch” you said as your attention settled back on your boyfriend. “Go celebrate with the team.” 

“Meet me in my driver’s room once we’re both done.” Max said 

You nodded, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “You got it, champ.”

Before you could slip away towards the chaos, Max pulled you in closer. You could feel the heat from his body as he leaned down to press his lips softly against yours, the world around you fading into nothing but a blur for a moment. It was quick, but it carried so much more weight than any words could ever have. 

As you both pulled away, you could feel the warmth spread to your cheeks. “So much for keeping it hidden.” you teased 

Max shrugged, a playful smile on his lips now. “You’re just too good to hide.” 

======

The interviews and the podium ceremony went as slow as molasses in January. As proud of Carlos as you were, you wanted to get the formal celebrations all wrapped up so you could pack up and make your way to the garage next door. 

The spray of champagne and confetti filled the air, and the podium continued to sparkle under the floodlights. Carlos waved to the crowd, his focus on the fans, but you couldn’t help but to feel the pull towards the Red Bull garage. You quickly snapped a few more photos of the celebration, but your heart wasn’t in it. 

The second the ceremony ended and the crowd began to disperse, you bolted from your spot, making your way quickly towards the Ferrari garage. Through the walls you could hear the celebrations already going on next door, but you had one last task to complete before you could join in the celebrations yourself. 

You found a relatively quiet corner of the garage to open your laptop and load a handful of photos into Lightroom. Not everything needed to be looked over and edited tonight - that was a flight home problem - but you knew you needed something to send some of the social media interns to post for race results and podium content. 

After slapping on the presets you’ve used all season, you emailed the photos to the interns and slammed your laptop shut. The Ferrari garage was still alive with a sense of pride, but your heart was no longer tethered to it for the day. You needed to be next door, with Max. 

With a quick stop in the motorhome, you changed into something a bit more comfortable - jeans and a crop top before you pushed through the corridor to the main garage. You weaved between team members and engineers who were still making their rounds, tying up loose ends after a race. 

Cold was never a word you thought you’d describe a city in the desert, but as soon as you left the red garage, a shiver was sent down your spine. Fortunately, before you could even think about how to bundle up, you heard your name.

“Y/n!” a voice called.

You turned towards the direction of the Red Bull garage, and sure enough, Meg and Jess - Red Bull’s photographers - were waving you over. You ran over, letting the both of them engulf you in a hug. 

“Congrats guys!” you said as you pulled away 

They both echoed back a “thank you” before matching smirks formed on their faces. 

“So you and Max?” Jess asked 

“Why didn’t you tell us it finally happened?” Meg added 

You could feel your cheeks grow warm as you shrugged. “Just didn’t think it was the right time” 

Meg rolled her eyes at your comment “Oh, and kissing in front of three hundred thousand people was?”

“Whatever” you mumbled 

“If you’re looking for Max though, he’s in his driver’s room. Guessing he needed a moment to breathe” Jess said before giving you directions to said room. 

You made your way through the corridors of the navy blue Red Bull garage, your steps quickening as you neared Max’s driver’s room. The noise of the celebrations felt distant, the hum of excitement muted behind the thick walls. As you approached the door Jess had pointed you to, you paused for a moment, steadying yourself. It was crazy how much had changed in just a few months, but here you were, walking toward the man who not only had been your childhood enemy, but also had become a significant part of your life in ways you hadn’t imagined. 

With a quick breath, you knocked lightly on the door. Max’s voice quickly followed, “come in!” 

Inside, the room was dimly lit with just a few lights scattered around. The clutter of post-race items - the helmet and gloves - were discarded in the corner, his race suit still hanging loosely from his waist. A navy blue shirt covered the white fireproofs he still had on, the word “M4X” written in graffiti plastered on the front. You couldn’t help but smile as you took in the design - your design - that was now a symbol of an iconic season. 

“I’m looking for a four time world champion. Have you seen one around?” you asked playfully as you leaned up against the doorframe.

Max looked up from where he was sorting through his things, his lips curling into the same grin he always got when he caught sight of you. His eyes brightened, and for a moment, it was as if the chaos of the day melted away. 

“Four-time world champion, huh?” he teased, his voice light and filled with pride. “I think I’ve seen one around here, but I’m not sure they’re as impressive as their shirt.” He gestured to the M4X logo on his shirt, the design standing out proudly against the dim lighting of the room. 

You couldn’t help but laugh, feeling the warmth of the moment settle in. “Maybe it’s the shirt that makes the champion.” you quipped, pushing off from the doorframe and stepping into the room.

Max chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sure it’s all your doing.” His voice softened slightly, his gaze lingering on you, almost as if taking a moment to let everything sink in. 

“You’ve earned it Max.” you said, your words sincere, no teasing this time. The pride you felt for him, and all he’d accomplished, was clear in your voice. “Every single one of them. And I’ve been so fortunate to watch you win at least three.” 

Max stepped closer, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he reached out to gently pull you into a hug. His arms wrapped around you, and everything outside of that room vanished. He rested his chin on your shoulder, a relaxed sigh escaping him. “Couldn’t have done it without you,” he murmured, his voice hushed, vulnerable in a way you hadn’t expected. 

You felt your heart race, his words hitting you deeper than you had anticipated. “It’s been a hell of a ride,” you replied softly, your fingers lightly tracing his shirt where the M4X logo was. 

“I did get you a shirt, don’t you worry” he teased as he registered your actions.

A laugh escaped your mouth as you shook your head, “I sure hope you would.”

Without saying another word, Max leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was filled with both the joy of the moment and the promise of everything to come. It was slow, deliberate, and full of emotion. When he pulled back, you both lingered there for a moment, letting the world outside stay on hold for just a little bit longer. 

“You’ve been a huge part of this, you know?” Max said, his voice low and steady, his breath warm against your skin

“I know” you replied with a small smile, looking up at him. “But so have you. I’m so incredibly proud of you, Max. More than you know. Though I haven’t seen it all over the past four years, I know you’ve sacrificed a lot.”

Max gave a soft chuckle, his grip tightening around you. “You make it sound like I’ve done something extraordinary.” 

“You have” you said, admiration and affection filling your gaze. “And don’t you dare sell yourself short.” 

His gaze softened again, and he pressed his lips to your forehead, a brief but tender kiss. The silence that followed was comfortable, filled with a quiet understanding between the two of you. The weight of the day still hung in the air, but there was a sense of calm that made everything feel right. 

“So…” you said after a beat, breaking the silence with a playful tone. “How about we go and celebrate? We’re in Las Vegas afterall.” 

Max pulled back slightly, a teasing grin on his face. “I thought you’d never ask.” 

The Dutchman quickly showered and changed into more casual clothes - his iconic black shirt and jeans. You couldn’t help but smile as you took him in, feeling your heart flutter in the process. 

As he collected his things to head out, he turned to you, his head tilted slightly in curiosity. “Do you think Logan and Isabella would want to join?” 

At first you were caught off guard by the question, the two people he named you thought surely wouldn’t be invited to the celebrations. But it was Max afterall, and no matter how many years you’d known him, he’d keep you on your toes. 

You shrugged, glancing at his phone on the table. “I don’t know, why don’t you ask them yourself?” 

Max raised an eyebrow at your suggestion, but didn’t hesitate as he grabbed his phone from the resting spot. “Fair enough.” 

His head was down as he reached for his wallet and began to walk out of his room, so he didn’t notice something fall from one of the pockets. You, on the other hand, noticed the small, folded up piece of paper hit the ground. As Max was halfway out the door, you grabbed it, unfolding it. 

As you unfolded the paper, you could see a photo of a young boy, throwing his arms up in celebration. He was standing in front of a kart - his kart. Your heart skipped a beat as your eyes traced the photo. The edges were faded, but you knew the kid standing in the middle. You knew that photo was only taken on your little red point and shoot camera.

“Y/n? You coming?” Max called from down the hallway, his tone casual, but you could hear the faint urgency in his voice. 

You hesitated, the photo still in your hand, and glanced at Max. His attention was now back to being focused on you, his eyes soft. 

“You put the photo back in your wallet?” you asked, turning the image of the boy so Max could see his younger self. 

Max’s eyes widened for a second as he realized what you were holding. His calm expression faltered just slightly, replaced by a hint of surprise, before breaking into a soft smile.

“Who said I ever took it out?” 

=============================

tagged: @mixedstyles @steamy-smokey @skbidi-izze @sinfully-yoursss @158cmx @freyathehuntress

[vitalverstappen]

PART 3. NOW.

actual footage of me trying to write part 3:

[vitalverstappen]

so i think the only good thing about today is that i finished part 2 of Flash Forward and I just need to edit it!!

[vitalverstappen]

How long should we be expected to wait for p3 of the masterpiece of art that is flash forward?

the plan is for mid/late december!

im currently in the midst of fleshing out the storyline, and have a bunch of personal family things coming up between now and the end of november, but im hoping once im done figuring out the direction for it, i can write it pretty quickly 🤞

[vitalverstappen]

me trying to finish the max series, start my holiday writing, write the tortured drivers department series, AND apply for big girl jobs all at the same time:

[vitalverstappen]

How could you break my heart like that 😭😭😭 hopefully part 2 has a better ending for max and y/n

it hurt ME to write it 😭😭 as they say… it always gets worse before it gets better 👀

but the goal is 3 parts, so plenty of content!!

[vitalverstappen]

like i don’t think yall are ready for this

just ask @coco-loco-nut

so i think the only good thing about today is that i finished part 2 of Flash Forward and I just need to edit it!!