"Thank you for the flight, Max." Charles pulls the Dutchman in with one arm. A hug Max has gotten familiar with over the past year. He can't help but pat Charles's back a little harder than normal. A glance passes between the two. Max swears he catches Charles looking at his lips, but the moment's gone in an instant. "See you in the paddock," Charles says softly before taking off toward the taxi waiting for him. Andrea is already inside, telling the driver where to bring them.
Max waits on the steps of his private plane until the black Mercedes drives off. Did he imagine it? The look of longing Charles had given him? A look of lust? Maybe the Monegasque does feel the same...
Unable to hide his grin, Max jumps off the final step, his feet hitting the tarmac with a thud.
"Well, you're happy, aren't you?" Rupert claps his hand on Max's back. Under any other circumstance, Max would've tried to ignore it, but he can't help himself.
"Rupert", He turns to face the Briton. "I feel like this will be the season. The season I get it all."
Max drops down onto the hotel bed. He's been on cloud nine the whole ride to the hotel. Finally, Max has broken through Charles's walls. The same walls resurfaced last year after Max had missed the Padel Tournament. Now, they are crumbling down, and Max would do anything in his power to break them down fully.
He pulls his cellphone out of his pants pocket. Max always texts his mom and sister when he arrives at a new destination, but he's completely forgotten. Turning off airplane mode, he watches the messages pop up.
Noticing them rise to an unseen level, Max pushes himself into a sitting position. He always gets a lot of messages after a win. Both from close family and friends and fans, but this amount is unusual. He puts his phone in 'do not disturb', silencing the notifications, before opening his messages. Through all of them, three stick out.
Charlie: "Thank you again. Maybe we can meet up after Jeddah?"
Papa: "Bel me METEEN! Praat niet met Horner."
Christian: "None of it is true, Max. Don't read the papers."
Max's hands begin to shake. Ignoring the messages, he opens the internet app, typing in Red Bull Racing.
Thousands of news reports pop up. Some about his victory in Bahrain, but many more about the future of the team, his future. A quote from Toto Wolff grabs his attention. Max clicks on the link.
"I think this is a decision that Max needs to take, and there is no team up and down the grid who wouldn't do handstands to have him in the car."
'What decision?' Going back to the articles, Max chooses another one.
"Horner sees Red Bull Racing succeed without Verstappen and Newey."
'Wait, what?'
Ignoring the headline, he calls the one person who'll give him a straight answer, no matter what.
"Hello?" The old voice cracks on the other line. The familiarity of it settles Max's nerves, but he needs to know what's going on.
"Helmut, what's happening, and why do I have to learn it from the press?"
It's quiet on the other end. Max checks his screen quickly to see if Helmut ended the call. He hasn't.
"It's difficult to explain, Max. Apparantly, Christian wants to buy the Austrian shares of Red Bull Racing and-"
"Why would he do that? It's always been Austrian!" Max knows he shouldn't raise his voice at Helmut. He'd learned that lesson the hard way. He feels betrayed, though. "And how does all this involve me? Why is Wolff acting as if I'm leaving?"
"Because your father said so."
Max feels his blood run cold. His dad did that? Jos's message flashes through his mind. "Call me IMMEDIATELY! Don't call Horner."
None of this makes sense.
"Why would he do that? Helmut, I don't know what's happening. Why is it happening now?" Max knows he sounds desperate, but he feels desperate.
"Just let me deal with Christian and your dad. Focus on the next race. Focus on the marketing of your esports team. Don't talk to the press until Wednesday, and it'll all be fine," Helmut assures him, but Max knows better. A media shitstorm will hit them, and he'll have to bite his tongue more than ever.
"Okay. Thanks, Helmut," Max answers, defeated. The line goes dead, and Max feels utterly alone. With a sigh, he checks his other notifications. Several teambosses have contacted him in the past hour to ask if it's true and if he'll really be free in 2025. Some drivers, who rarely talk to him, even texted him.
With a groan, Max throws his phone down onto the bed. This can't be happening. Everything was going perfectly so far. Ever since 2022, it has been smooth sailing. Why did anything have to change?
Why does his dad get involved every time something happens around him? Why won't he let Max make his own choices? Let him choose where his loyalties lie. An anger Max hasn't felt in a long time begins to boil in the pit of his stomach. He wants to scream, but he can't. If he does, Rupert will barge in from the room next to him, and he'll have to explain. He doesn't even know what's going on with himself.
Max balls his hands into fists. He needs to let go of some steam, or he's going to explode. Grabbing the key to the room off the nightstand, he hurries to the door.
Thuds echo through the empty fitness area. The sun will rise soon, but Max can't stop. Not yet. He has to continue. He hits the boxball once more, his fists aching in the white wrappings. He knows he's killing his hands by not using gloves, but he needs to feel the pain. The ache helps him take his mind off everything. It makes him forget that once again, people try to control him. His dad, Christian, Helmut... He owes his career to every single one of them. He owes them everything. They made him who he is now. A triple world champion. His dreams are real because of them.
Then why does he feel betrayed? Why does he feel used? By his dad for using him in another power play against his boss. Max is well aware that Jos envies Christain and their relationship. He still has resentment for the time he was kicked out of the paddock for interfering within the team. Sometimes Max wishes that ban still stood, but he'd never tell his dad that.
Max feels betrayed by Christian, by the man who's always helped him and always defended him. Why did he want to buy shares of the team? Why the Austrian shares? Didn't Christian care for everything Dietrich had built? For their relationship? For Helmut, who has helped him choose great drivers from the very beginning?
"Fuck!" Max exclaims, hitting the bag one more time with as much force as he can muster. Panting, he leans against the ball, tears stinging his eyes. He wouldn't cry. Not about this. Not about another person he loves and thrusts betraying him. Not again. A scream escapes him. Throat raw, he feels a sob burst through.
------
The gaming event with Gianni in Dubai had taken his mind off of things, but he has to go into the paddock for media day. Delaying it as long as possible, Max walks in when most teams have already left. Cameras flash around him as soon as he steps through the gates. Journalists run after him, asking him questions he isn't allowed to answer. Helmut had given him a detailed list of things he could and couldn't say this weekend. A straight answer to what's happening at his team he hadn't gotten yet. Max fears he'll never get it.
He'd called his dad on the drive-over. His father had been angry. Max had ignored him for 48 hours, but he didn't care. Ever since he'd seen the news reports, Max had felt numb. He's not himself, and everything happening around him feels like nothing more than a bad dream he'll wake up from soon.
It isn't a dream, though. Jos really did go to Toto Wolff to negotiate a deal. Max feels like throwing up just thinking about driving for Mercedes. Max and Lewis have made up in 2022. He even likes the Briton now, and they speak in private occasionally, but he'll never forget what the team has said in the past. He'll never forget the direct attacks aimed at him and his family. Max would rather retire than drive for Mercedes.
He'd spoken to Adrian about everything. Just like the Dutchman, the engineer had become a ploy in this fight for power. Max knows Adrian loves working for Red Bull. It's the first team; he's gotten free reign. He can do anything he wants. But Adrian did confide to the driver that he dreams of Ferrari red sometimes. He'd love to return the Italian team to glory. Adrian doesn't regret not leaving when Sebastian asked him to in 2015, but he'd love to end his career there, possibly with Max.
Max knows that isn't an option, though, no matter the texts he's gotten from Fred Vasseur over the past few days. Max would never take Charles's place, not like that.
Max feels claustrophobic at the Red Bull hospitality. He's sat at a small table, surrounded by journalists, team members, TV crews, and a few curious fans. The same questions phrased differently are thrown at him, and Max keeps answering that he'll finish his contract at Red Bull, that he wants to focus on this race weekend, and that the drama the media's creating doesn't help the intern powerplay. Max wants nothing more than to run away from it all.
After thirty minutes, Red Bull calls it quits. Max can finally go back inside his driver's room; he can finally breathe again. Out of habit, he grabs his phone. Max has ignored everyone for a few days now, except for one.
Charlie: Are you alright? I saw them circling you.
Max: I'm not, but it'll die down. How was your day?
Max's heart warms as the typing notification shows on his screen. Charles has been the only driver who didn't ask. He only cared about how Max was dealing with it all, and it's been Max's only reason to smile so far.
Charlie: Relatively okay. Carlos isn't feeling well, but I hope it's just something he ate. We gotta beat you and Checo this weekend, aye ;)
Max rolls his eyes. Of course, Charles's already focused on the race.
Max: We'll see about that. Good luck this weekend.
Charlie: You too 😘
Max finally feels as if everything's back to normal once he's in the car. FP1's going great so far, and GP encourages Max to go a little faster.
In his RB20, Max is in control. Not his dad, not Christian, not Helmut. He is. No one can tell him what he can and can't do, how to take a corner, or if he has to calm down.
Over the years, Max has grown a lot calmer. Winning a championship does that to you. All the pressure is gone because you've proven you're worthy of your seat. Max knows all he's won since that race in Abu Dhabi is extra. This weekend, however, he has something to prove. He needs this win. He needs it to prove to everyone that it's him who's capable of this, not those around him with their ill advice.
Qualifying is closer than he'd expected, but Max knows it's thanks to the driver starting P2 and not their car. Charles comes towards him, winking at him. Max feels that same blush from a week before creeping into his cheeks. No matter how often Charles winks at him, it'll always root Max in his place. "Well done," the Monegasque says, the crinkle in his eyes showing the smile hidden by his helmet. "I'll get you next time."
"We'll see about that," Max replies in good faith. "Well done, Charles. You did great."
The Ferrari driver redirects his gaze at the floor, nodding before taking off toward his team. Max already misses Charles near him.
After the mandatory interviews and press conference, Max follows Charles. Being near the Monegasque calms his nerves, and if Max is fully honest, he isn't ready to face his team yet.
"Charles!" Max jogs up to the Ferrari driver, following him in between the red trucks. With a frown, Charles turns, spotting the Dutchman. A smile lights up his features at the sight, and Max feels his worries disappear.
"Charles," he nearly whispers as he comes face-to-face with the brunet. Max wants to say something, but he can't.
"Max," Charles replies after a beat, wiggling his eyebrows. A chuckle escapes the Red Bull driver.
"Something up?" Charles asks as Max remains silent. Max doesn't know what to say. Being in front of him, he doesn't remember why he ran after him in the first place. He knows Charles brings him peace, and that's all he needs right now.
"I..." Max trails off, not knowing what to say. Well, he does know, but is he brave enough to do so? Charles gazes at him softly. He reaches out to touch Max's bicep, squeezing it softly, His forest green eyes search Max's ocean blue ones for answers. It's as if Charles can see right through him.
"Charles... I-" A lump forms in Max's throat. He can't say it, not yet. Not this weekend when his world's crumbling down. "I... I'm sorry for bothering you."
Without another word, Max walks past, leaving a confused Charles behind.
Come Sunday, as Max walks into the Red Bull Racing home, Helmut quickly takes him aside. "They're here."
"Who?" Max appreciates Helmut keeping him informed; some clarity would be nice, though. "The Mateshitz's?"
"Yes. I've got a meeting with them later today, without Christian. I'll tell you what'll happen next once I know."
"Thanks Helmut." The old man pats him on the back before going to the shareholders sitting a little further away.
"What was that about?" Max has a near-heart attack as Checo suddenly appears next to him. The Mexican looks at him questionably.
"Nothing special, mate," Max replies, rubbing the hair behind his ear. He has no idea how much his teammate knows about the current situation. Sergio just wants to race, preferably at Red Bull, so he doesn't care as much who rules the team. Max does. Most of all, he wants everything to remain the same.
"Are you really going to Mercedes?" The question hits the Dutchman hard. Not Checo too...
"No. Why?" Max answers coolly.
Checo takes his teammate's tone as his cue to leave. He shrugs his shoulders before taking off towards his driver's room.
Max deflates, his focus shifting back to Helmut and the people who might decide his future.
Max is already on the grid when Helmut pulls him away from the cameras. "It's done."
"What is?" Max would like the Austrian to be a little less vague.
"They're taking Christian off the team."
"What?" Max feels his voice reach new heights. Helmut hushes him. "Why would they want that?"
"Christian is trying to take Red Bull over, Max. They won't let that happen."
"But that means we'll need a new teamboss. Why can't they just reprimand him?" Max is becoming desperate. Christian is just as involved in Max's career as Helmut and his dad. He doesn't want the Briton to be fired.
"We're past that already. Focus on the race now, Max. It'll be fine."
Max is pretty sure nothing will be the same again.
"P1! Mega race, Max. Well done." Max has the urge to ignore his teamboss, but he doesn't.
"Thanks, Christian. Well done to the team."
He'd raced his heart out, and taking P1 on a weekend like this means the world to Max. Parking behind the number one sign, Max jumps out of the car, running toward his team. He knows they don't know yet. To them, Max drove another brilliant race and won again. To Max, this feels like the start of a new, terrifying era in his career. He hugs them each seperately before going to Checo, who has come in second, and... and Charles. Back on the podium together. Max feels a genuine smile spread on his face as he pats the Monegasque on the back.
"Well done! You'll break your own record again," Charles grins, winking at the Dutchman. Max feels a familiar blush appear on his cheeks. He doesn't break eye contact this time. "Australia is a happy hunting ground for you, though. We might be in trouble."
Charles snorts, but Max sees how much the compliment means to the Ferrari driver. They're pulled apart by the FIA crew. It's time for interviews. While answering the routine questions, Max can't help but glance behind him from time to time. He notices Charles and Checo sitting close to one another, debriefing the Grand Prix. A small pang of jealousy hits him, but it evaporates the moment Charles lays eyes on the Dutchman. A dazzling smile lights up his features, and it's reserved for Max only. Maybe some things never change.
As Max listens to his national anthem, staring at the night sky, a calm sets over him. A loud scream comes from above. Leaning forward, he notices his pit crew is up there. A laugh escapes him, and the feeling of dread that had been there all week finally disappears. Maybe it would be alright in the end.
Later that night, Helmut announces to the media that he and Max are staying at Red Bull. Max doesn't notice. After a weekend with little to no sleep, he's snoring in his hotel room, dreaming of forest green eyes.