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vitalverstappen · 9 months ago

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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

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ivosangel · 1 year ago

Text

The Ash Scattered Over a Field

Book: PSI

Characters: Ivo Martin x Lou Reed

Word Count: 5566

Rating: M

Warnings: Death, Neck breaking, Nightmares, Strong language, Smoking

Tags: @rc-catalog @secret-fungi @mikaelsrose @agattthaa @liykaii @zumitry @scrubcapsg @sarahrosees @webanglikethat @annn-starrr @astarotha

Summary: Tomorrow, they set their emotions aside and fight for their goal. But tonight, they're just Lou, Ivo, and the city beyond.

Recommend music to read with: https://on.soundcloud.com/MorArg2uTjruUXRu7 on repeat

“Right now, the Assistance Corps have just taken out the Prior of the Inquisition,” a feminine voice announces.

Lou understands perfectly what is about to happen. She awaits frozen in dread as life relentlessly continues going on around her.

Faceless people surround her in a crowd as they watch the fateful event that will change the course of history.

They’re silent, faces void of any mouths to throw the usual insults thrown at such events, void of any eyes to throw any vicious or cutting glances…

Instead, they simply silently expressionlessly face him as he’s brought out. His face, unlike all others, is clear and distinct, his cold and ruthless expression precise.

He isn’t changed out of his immaculate well-kept uniform, the Inquisition badge shines brightly in spite of the cold and gloomy winter rain. His hair is in its usual impeccably neat ponytail, not a strand is out of place.

He doesn’t fit the image of a criminal about to be hanged. And yet,

He gives Lou a cold glance as he’s led past her, and in that split second it feels as though everything around them pauses and they’re in slow motion.

Lou immediately understands what is truly in his gaze. They both know what they want to say to each other, but unspoken words unite them one last time, as the world around them resumes, and he is ruthlessly led away.

“The higher ranks of the Inquisition have not given us an exact explanation for this situation so far,” a faceless woman on a hologram TV continues reporting her announcement, “however, from the information available to us, it has become clear–”

He reaches the stage and stands in perfect posture, exactly where he’s meant to stand. He shows no sign of resistance against his situation, but as he searches the crowd for where he’s just passed by, when his eyes land on her, she can see the hidden despair in them.

His impeccable appearance contrasts the gallows. The noose now being tied around his neck by an inquisitor in an identical uniform is out of place among his perfect attire.

“...the Prior was staging a coup,” the reporter mercilessly continues against the cold silence. Lou continues staring at the man, eyes wide with horror as the dreaded event comes closer and closer, chasing her like a predator chasing his disadvantaged prey. “Having learned about this, the Vicar Jean-Francois took immediate action to eliminate the traitor.”

She tries to breathe as her heart looses its rhythm. At the sight of the noose around her lover’s neck, her hands tremble and her legs grow weak. She doesn’t take her eyes off him.

She’s paralyzed by dread, too numb to cry and yet, as she becomes hyper-aware of herself and their now inescapable situation, she feels wet tears on her cheeks.

“...horrifying news pierced our hearts,” Lou’s panic crashes into her brain, it screams at her to do something, to act. To strangle the man who’s just tied the noose. It becomes so loud that it drowns out the sound of the TV, breaking phrases into jumbled sentences. “...Church will conduct a lengthy investigation… Who else is involved in…”

Her brain refuses to listen to the indifferent voice on stage that had just begun listing his crimes, as he stands, rigorously watching her, on that trapdoor.

She can only hear her own mind screaming for her to act no less vehemently than it did a moment ago. But, feeling as though her feet are physically glued to the floor, she stands frozen, withholding his penetrating gaze.

Voices without source begin speaking out amidst the brutal silence. Their questions each cut its own deep wound. “What will the Vicar say? How will they deal with the traitor?”

A stab to the gut. “Is the traitor also guilty of the recent crimes against the Church?”

A bullet to the heart. “Did the Prior’s personal guards know of his plans?”

The question that killed her, “Who will the next Prior be?”

And on that stage, standing on that trapdoor, moments away from his final breath, he coldly endures until the dreaded question is asked: “Your final words, Monsieur Martin?”

He shows no weakness or vulnerability, simply answers the question with a cold voice, a stern expression, and a single tear of despair that streams down his uncaring face. He says: “I promised I’d make the universe bigger. I’m sorry.”

And then she hears the deafening sound of the crunch of his neck as the trapdoor opens beneath him. He’s staring directly at her when his eyes roll back into his skull and life leaves his body.

Lou jolted awake, wheezing for air as if she had run a great distance.

She frantically searched the darkness for any semblance of hope. She found it in the realization that she’d just been dreaming.

She slowed her breathing, inhaled for four seconds, held for four seconds, and exhaled for four seconds. Jonas had once taught her this breathing exercise when she got panicked at school one time.

She slowly turned herself over and sat herself up on her elbows. She sat frozen for a minute as her eyes worked to adjust to the darkness around her.

As her mind began to make sense of the shapes that surrounded her, Lou looked around the familiar room. It wasn’t hers. In her state of mind, she had just about forgotten where she was spending the night.

A quick scan of the room reminded her whose it is. It was confirmed when she looked down at red and gray sheets that covered her now.

And when she realized whose bed she was in, she absentmindedly turned to look to the other side of the bed. She let out a pained sigh of relief as she saw him laying next to her, soundly asleep with calm even breathing.

And as she sat mesmerized by the sight of his chest slowly rising and falling with every breath, the realization came crushing that the horrific sight she’d just seen has only yet to come.

Her pulse rang in her ear, her heart dropped to her stomach as she settled into that realization that her nightmare can easily become a reality. She took another deep breath.

He’d told her and Stone to “settle their affairs” before the day arrived. She knew what he meant by that. She knew anything could happen on the fated day, that they’re all in a dangerous position no matter what happens. That’s why she chose to spend the previous day with him, why she wished to wake up in his bed the next morning.

And now she had another reason: she was glad of all places, she was tormented by nightmares in his bed where she can wake up next to him, and simply be with him knowing that he's safe.

She stared at him as vehemently as she had in that dream, as though she could lose him at any second. And as she did, as if her nightmare hadn’t tormented her enough, visions of how the next day could go began playing in her head.

She imagined Jonas, barely alive from overusing his psi, being dragged away by the AC. She imagined the young Tina having to learn that she'd have to go on living alone as a result of everyone she knows having been killed. She couldn't bring herself to imagine the pyrokinetic dying, and still she imagined every outcome. Most didn’t seem ideal.

Her imagination led back to his death. She shook her head as her mind replayed the scene, almost as though she was shaking out the image of it.

When she zoned back in, she thoughtlessly watched him, almost fascinated by the way he breathed. The way he lived.

And amidst the silence that now lingered in her mind, one strained simple thought shattered through the wall of professional detachment she had built. Like how the moon stood out amidst the starless sky above the eternally alive and lit city outside the balcony door, her thought stood out from the quiet darkness of her mind, and it whispered to him: I don’t wanna lose you.

Her hand reached out on its own, as if it was reaching for something it had long yearned to hold, and now it gets to. It reached his face, and hovered over it, afraid to wake him.

She knew he wasn’t dreaming. At least, knowing the nature and purpose of his sedative, she doubted he was. And she knew that her wish to understand what’s going through his head right now was futile.

But Lou’s worry was slightly reassured as she realized that, after the next day’s events are over, he’d likely never have to take that sedative again.

What is happening to me, she thought, why does it matter to me that you’re sleeping soundly?

And yet, despite her deep reluctance to worry for him, her thought was followed up with: Sleeping soundly? …I really hope you are.

She found herself absentmindedly playing with his hair. She gently ran her fingers between his dark locks, as if, even when on auto-pilot, she knew exactly just how gentle to be so as to not wake him.

When she realized what she was doing, she paused, and just stared at her hand, now frozen with a lock of his hair between her fingers.

She took a deep inhale, which was somewhat surprisingly difficult for her at that moment, and then finally decided: No, I better not wake you up.

So her hand retreated, and with it, she did too. She sat herself back up and reached for the bedside table next to her. She had to tap the table a few times before landing on a small box, which she grabbed and took with her as she got up.

She didn’t bother to slip her feet into anything comfortable, so her bare footsteps hardly made any sound when she walked away and onto the balcony.

The floor was warm against her bare feet.

Despite it being the middle of summer, they’d heard it was going to rain that night. Yet, the sky was endlessly clear. Lou felt the warmth against her skin wash out her melancholy and replaced it with discomfort.

She watched the eternally awake city through clouded vision as she lit a cigarette and exhaled the first puff of smoke. Below her, she saw the light turn off from a building or two, but most, just like the Inquisition building, never really slept.

Just as it was clear of clouds, the sky also lacked stars. It was solely lit by the moon, lonely as she now was. Its light tried to console her as it shone down on her, barely reaching far enough to envelop her in its rays like the dreaded sun did.

And she truly dreaded the dawn of the first rays of sun. She didn’t want tomorrow to come. So she endlessly watched the moon, her heart sank deeper with each second the moon set lower.

Alone with the moon, she didn’t want to think of the next day anymore. Taking in another drag of smoke, she wondered what the sky would look like if only the harsh lights of the city didn’t outshine the stars.

She found herself rolling her eyes. She’d never cared about such things before.

But as her thoughts led back to him, it almost didn’t matter anymore. Her next thought as she hesitated to inhale again was: Beautiful, that’s how.

She breathed a pained exhale. I’m tormenting myself if I keep standing here waiting for the sun to rise. And as she turned back to return to the sleeping man behind that balcony door, just before she put out her cigarette, her eyes landed on his cello.

He'd left it there after he'd spent the night playing to her, sharing his soul through symphony after symphony, the only way he could.

Moon and sun and stars and the cello all led her to one thought, one memory that didn’t allow her to walk away anymore.

She remembered a melody among the cosmos, as she floated between planets and nebulae. She remembered standing on the moon as the music dissolved her, and it felt as though she and the music together were becoming the stars and the galaxies.

Her mysterious admirer didn’t accompany her there, yet she learned weeks later on the very balcony she now stood on that he was with her that night. He was the melody that carried her to the stars, the music that undid her. He was the color of the sky, the twinkle of the stars that generously bathed her in their light.

Their generosity came in the form of an outstretched hand holding out a pair of shades on an inconveniently sunny day, or a pack of ice for a runny broken nose. It came as music; a flash drive to keep her company while she was lonely off work, a sound system as some part of him in her home, an orchestra at a planetarium, a cello on the balcony. It came in the form of him.

And he was the main cellist playing that orchestra. He was her beautiful symphony, the chords and tones that tugged at her heart and lured it closer, pushed it deeper into the pool of his affection. And in a world that gave him their undivided attention, she was his only audience, the only one who mattered. She was his muse.

What stupid thoughts, she convinced herself, if Jonas heard all this he’d flick me between my brows and tell me to get my shit together.

She had no doubt the healer would have a colorful choice of words for her, had he known who she’s spending her nights with.

But she forgot Jonas’ name very easily when he was on her mind. She went back to the edge of the balcony, to the bustling city beyond it that had no idea how much it would change in a matter of hours.

And she took out another cigarette, despite knowing that standing there won’t do her any good, and lit it. She couldn’t turn her back on the moon, the only thing unchanged in her life, guaranteed to rise the next night and set the morning after.

Shit, she exhaled a stream of smoke, what’s happening to me?

She'd never worried about someone like that before, and worrying about Ivo scared her. She'd tried to break it off the previous day for that reason. It was her duty to protect him as his personal guard, it was her duty to worry. But her worry wasn't out of duty, it was personal.

And the idea of leaving him killed her, and having the Prior die may ruin her career, but it was easier to fail as his guard than it was to fail as his lover.

Moreover, he was the Prior. He was ash scattered over crops where life grew over the death he left behind. Who was she next to him?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a quiet hoarse voice calling “Lou?” followed by the sound of a door clicking.

She turned to look back at the pale tired man who'd just walked onto the balcony. He looked more grim than peaceful and sound now that he was awake.

He approached her lazily, as if he'd hardly allowed himself to fully wake up before realizing she wasn't asleep in bed next to him.

Lou noted the worried look on his face. He seemed to understand what she was dreading. “I'm sorry,” her apology filled the silence as she flicked the ash off her cigarette.

When he reached her, he wordlessly held her by the waist and planted a kiss just where the sleeve of her shirt had fallen from her shoulder, in silent reassurance that she didn't have anything to apologize for.

And she didn't have it in her to say anything else, so they stood like that, silently taking in each other's presence, for a while. Her, listening to the sound of his breathing and savoring every decibel. Him, watching the smoke floating from her mouth into the air almost as if, in his tired state, he was utterly mesmerized by it.

When her cloud of smoke dissipated into the air, he turned back to look at her, allowing himself to admire the sight of her. Only after he took in every feature, he planted a long kiss on her cheek.

As his lips lingered on her skin, without thinking, she mouthed “mine.” Her voice came out in more of a strangled whisper.

She felt his lips form a smile on her cheek. “That's right, Lou. Yours.”

When she realized he was about to kiss her lips, Lou abruptly moved away, swiftly remarking: “Ivo, my breath reeks of tobacco, you don't wanna taste that.”

Endearing as her concern was for him, he didn't push her any further. He simply went back to admiring her as he absentmindedly stroked her shoulder. She turned back to face the city.

After a moment, he allowed himself to break the silence and gently asked: “Why are you awake at this hour?”

She took a second to consider her response before she exhaled it along with another puff of smoke. “I could ask you the same thing.”

He was in no hurry to answer.

Lou decided not to wait for one anyway. “I keep playing scenarios in my head.”

“Scenarios?”

“Of the possibilities of tomorrow,” she clarified. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m prepared to put my emotions aside and serve my duty, but I don’t know that I wanna face the damage we’ll leave behind.”

He stared at her attentively, waiting for her to elaborate, or to decide that she wasn't going to.

“The other day, while I was… hm. I went to see Jonas and I could hardly hold a conversation. I kept imagining his fate after tomorrow,” a deep inhale as she took in another drag, “it wasn't a pretty picture.”

Ivo's eyes narrowed. Though he'd heard of Jonas before, he had no idea who the healer was or what any of this had to do with him.

“A few days ago, I dreamed about Tina. After I dropped her off at work, I just stopped to think about her future. My dream that night didn’t keep me wondering for too long.”

Ivo clearly had something he wanted to say, but refrained until she’d finished speaking.

“Tonight, I dreamed about you.”

He knew there would be no more elaborating on her part.

“I see,” he sighed as he seemed to understand the gravity of what’s been on her mind. She didn’t phrase it exactly how she’d wanted, but he understood exactly what she meant. He didn’t need any more explanation. “First of all, as for your tobacco breath,” he left a brief kiss on her lips, then brazenly stated: “I don’t care.”

She smiled at him briefly, took in his face, and suddenly saw his eyes roll back into his head again the way it did when he died at the gallows.

Something inside her shivered at the unexpected vision, she abruptly turned away. She refused to look at him any longer.

He felt the strange sense of anxiety that just suddenly came over her. Realizing she probably wasn’t up for it, he didn’t ask any questions. Instead he simply offered her a place in his arms.

She took it, settled her back into his chest, and stood there, held by him. Loved by him. Loved.

“You died,” she lamented, “in this dream.”

His attentive gaze on her became penetrating. His expression confused her. She wasn’t sure whether his furrowed brows expressed anger or concern.

“Our coup hadn’t gone according to plan. We’d doomed people to those godforsaken psionic farms, doomed humanity to a horrific fate, and you were brought to the gallows to be executed. Publicly.”

Ivo silently took in her words. He didn’t answer right away. “Lou, I have everything planned out perfectly. Every moment of every event counted toward our goal, everything that led us here was done strategically and under my complete control. I have several backup plans in the case that things don’t work out. Even in the event of my death, humanity–”

“Ivo! This isn’t about humanity dammit, this is about you!” She raised her voice for the first time in the conversation. “I don’t want you to die! I want you to assure me that you won’t die!”

Panic settled into her stomach as he paused in uncertainty. He couldn’t promise her that.

“Lie to me.”

He was only silent for a moment before lethargically responding, “...I won’t die.”

“You’re a politician, is that the best lie you could come up with?”

“It’s 2 AM.” He sluggishly refuted.

She wanted to look back at him with an unamused expression but it came out more desperate. More despaired. “Goddammit, Ivo…” She almost whimpered the words out of frustration.

And as she uttered them, flashes of that dream replayed before her mind’s eye.

She watched again at how he didn’t take his eyes off her once as he stood on the gallows. She’d never forget the way he was looking at her before life left him as abruptly as a gut-wrenchingly beautiful song being interrupted, the cruel silence that comes after.

And she’d never forget the horrific sound of his neck crunching, it didn’t feel like a distant memory from a dream.

She was reluctant to inhale another drag as she struggled to breathe. The crushing realization that came next came against her will, that if she lost him, she suddenly would no longer know how to keep living

He was no empath but he almost felt what she was thinking. The weight of the images on her mind were perceptible on her face, in the way she refused to take in another drag of smoke.

She didn’t pay attention to the taste when she absentmindedly inhaled the smoke again.

She was dragged out of her flashback by his quiet voice, silent as if she was asleep and he was reluctant to wake her. “Lou, come back to me.”

She suddenly became extremely aware of herself and the world around her. As all their problems began to feel tangible, she became hypersensitive to his cold hand on her arm. He hadn’t stopped stroking it once. At this moment, it grounded her.

“I’m sorry,” he rasped. Though he wasn’t one to usually have such a reaction, he mentally cussed at himself for his inability to convincingly lie to her. After all, he was able to deceive a stage one psionic empath.

“I’m sorry, Lou,” he sincerely apologized again. “In the beginning, I didn’t think that we…”

“I know, Ivo,” a stream of smoke came out alongside her words. “And it’s not your fault. I’m glad I… got to know you,” she wasn’t sure how to phrase it, but they both knew what she was saying. “I knew what I was getting myself into when I became your guard,” she considered everything she’d been through so far that led her to this moment. “It wasn’t to walk in the garden.”

At first, this all started as an attempt to earn enough for a comfortable living. She understood the dangerous nature of her job, and she was prepared to do what it takes.

She wasn’t eager to protect the head of the Inquisition when she’d first heard about the job offer, but the pay was so generous, she could hardly refuse. She fought hard for that comfortable life in Termitairy she was hoping to have, even if it meant protecting some high-ranking prick.

She never expected that one day, she’d be standing in said high-ranking prick’s arms, as if enveloped by a blanket of love and comfort, as he gently rubbed her shoulders in an attempt to dispel her worries about their upcoming dangerous mission.

And as she realized how her bitterness towards the Inquisition and its leader was once just barely enough to dissuade her chance to earn decent money, she marveled at her eagerness to risk her life to make a difference, to risk her life for him.

“And now we’re changing the world,” her next words were uttered silently without any context, “How could I walk away from that?”

“Of course,” Ivo agreed, “But I’m sure you hardly expected to be in this much danger either.”

“It’s easier for you isn’t it? That’s why they call you Ash,” she wasn’t really asking. “And you’ve been planning this for a while. —Well, not this but you’ve at least known some of Jean-Fracnois’ secrets for a long time, haven’t you?” After a silent pause as he considered his answer, Lou spoke up again first and added: “Plus, with the sedative-”

“That’s not the purpose of the sedative.” He hardly intended to interrupt her. It was just an objective fact he felt the need to state.

“I know, but it still helps,” she reasoned.

“To be sure. But either way, Lou, I’ve always had to put my emotions aside for my goal. The ash scattered over a field has no weakness or emotion, it is just ash, and it must fulfill its function– to be useful.”

“You are not ash.”

“I am the Prior. I endure, I do my job, I achieve my goal. Only after that am I a human being, and that’s reserved for you.”

He knew before hiring her that she was someone he’d become fond of, but he didn’t expect to become this fond of her. Too much to lose her.

He’d told her before that he wished he could be the one to protect her, and along with the upcoming dawn, that statement rises more and more and threatens to drown him with its truth as how the dawn threatens to drown the world with its light.

He knew where his fate would lead, that it might lead to his death. He knew he was risking the death of his team. He had come to terms with that, he was prepared for it.

He had to put his feelings aside time and time again for the sake of his goals, since the beginning of his career. He understood that emotions had no place at work.

Before her, emotions had hardly any place in his personal life either.

But now as they stood together facing the rest of the world, holding each other in an attempt to comfort one another, she’d become a person he never wanted to know what it’s like to live without.

“What exactly is gonna happen tomorrow,” she asked, and suddenly they both became acutely aware of the silence that had been lingering between them for minutes before she uttered her question. She looked up at the moon, and realized: “Well, today.” She turned again to face him, a look in her eyes he’d never seen before: desperation. “What are the steps of your plan? Tell me every detail.”

Her tone was cold and determined, it sounded as though she was commanding him, but she was asking for reassurance.

Ivo paused in silence for a moment, then let out a grim sigh. That was the first time in the entire conversation he’d stopped stroking her arm.

He nudged her lightly to have her turn to a position where she’s facing him, their faces inches apart. And when she complied, he took a long attentive look at her face, memorizing every feature as if it was the most important exam he was ever going to take.

Then, he took her hand with his and pressed it onto his chest. He held it there.

“Ivo, what are you doing-” she was interrupted by the murmur of a thud. Then another, and another.

He was silent for a minute as he let her listen. He simply watched her face take in the sound, and pay attention to it.

“You’re listening to the heartbeat of the Prior of the Inquisition,” he finally spoke. His chest rumbled lightly beneath her palm as his words came out. “Many have tried to stop it from sounding. Many wanted to cease its beating.” His lips were so close, they almost whispered into her temple. “You saw first hand how close they were to succeeding.”

And as he watched her attentively, her eyes were fixated on his hand on hers, holding hers to his chest. She soaked in the sound.

“Listen to it now, Lou.”

“Oh…” she felt as though she was physically holding in her hand the beating heart of the man who truly belonged to her.

Belonged to her? What right did she have to think so?

But tonight, those thoughts of doubt were drowned out by a lud, lud, lud,

A sound she now realized that, alongside the roar of her motorcycle’s engine and the music from her headphones, had just become among her favorite sounds in the world.

And just like how she cannot imagine living without music, and how she’d sooner die than give up her motorbike, she realized she never wanted to stop listening to the sound of his life whispering reassuring promises to her through his heart.

It whispered to her what he wanted her to know, because he survived and he endured for his goal because of her, but he lived for her.

He was silent again for another few minutes, she stood mesmerized again as she listened. When his voice sounded again,it almost startled Lou out of a shell she seemed to have retreated to. “First thing in the morning, we’ll meet with the Vicar,” a fact she already knew, “he will agree to my proposal–”

Lou couldn’t stand it anymore. “Yes, Ivo, but what proposal? What are you going to tell him?”

He didn’t give her an answer. Instead, he simply slowly shook his head in a silent plea to listen to his words. “Everything will go according to plan at the synod. Exactly every guest we need will show up. Every person who is taking part in our plan, whether they know it, intend to, or they don’t, will be exactly where we need them to be.”

His vagueness frustrated Lou. His words told her nothing of his plans, as always.

His words often spoke a vague truth, one that cut. But the continued sound that trembled under her palm told Lou all she needed to hear.

“We will gain control over the city so that we can prevent as many deaths as possible….”

As he kept speaking, he didn’t take his hand off hers, he didn’t allow her to let go of his heart. And why should she, when it beats because of her? When it beats for her.

He wanted her to own it, as if he trusts her not only to protect it from metaphorical heartbreak, but he trusts her to keep it beating.

She no longer listened to his words, she lost herself in the sound of his heartbeat that drowned out his cruel lies, sweet reassurance that was more cruel than threats and insults.

She settled into the sound that swaddled her like the comforting darkness of the night, the steady rhythm of his heart assured her more than his sorry attempts at deciet. It didn’t have his tone, the uncertainty with which he spoke, that slight unsureness, a hesitancy in promises.

No, his heart only kept sounding, each beat a promise that it would fight for the next one.

She didn’t realize how long she’d been standing there listening to the sound of his heartbeat after he let her hand go and stopped speaking. He didn’t try to remove her hand from his chest.

He only planted a kiss on her temple, which promised more than his words ever could.

“Sorry,” she apologized half-heartedly.

If he couldn’t tell from the reluctant tone in her apology that it wasn’t true, he knew it from the way his hand lingered on his chest, refusing to pull away.

She tried again. Only this time, she tried the truth: “I love you.”

Silence was his reply. It wasn’t that he hesitated to respond, no. He was silent as her words settled in. He understood that she did, and he knew exactly how he felt, but only when her words reached his heart and caressed it like sunlight’s rays caressed all that it dawned upon, he responded: “I love you too.”

Lou understood that tonight would be their last as human beings before they’d have to put their own humanity aside for the sake of the rest of humanity.

She understood she’d have to forget her emotions and serve. She knew she could. But tonight, that wasn’t what she worried about.

Tonight, humanity disappeared and summarized in one person, in the form of him. Tonight, nobody else mattered to her, only him.

Maybe during her days when she sat in his office, when she went on missions to dangerous clubs to find shady people, or beyond the perimeter for evidence of dangerous crimes against the Inquisition or the Church, Lou’s only goal, which she fought for sincerely, was for humanity. For people.

But tonight, as sleep came and sucked her into its comforting darkness easily despite the terrifying reality of tomorrow, none of it mattered to her. Only him.

#sorry if i forgot to tag anyone #lemme know if you wanna be on my taglist next time <3 #credit to fungi and agatha for helping out with this #this fic literally cost me an arm #and by that i mean it took two months coz my arm was injured 😭#void's yapfest #rc psi #romance club psi #rc lou #rc ivo #rc lou x ivo #romance club #psi fanfic #rc fanfic #fanfic #romance club fanfic #romance club fanfiction

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