F1 One shots

PT1 - Max Verstappen

You look around the paddock for your brother, sighing when you realise he must've been called in for something. It's been a long time since you've joined him for a race, you were busy with work, and you didn't really enjoy being in his garage after you realised that his teammate despised you. Ex-teammate you should say, because your brother went to another team. You don't even know what you did to make him hate you, he would just get annoyed by anything you did or said. You sigh when you sit down on a chair you find, texting your brother where you are before reminiscing about the last time you were here.

"I'm just quickly going to the toilet, I'll be back in five seconds!" your brother yells, rushing towards the bathroom. You roll your eyes, slumping down in the chair while you wait for him. You scroll through social media until you hear someone walk into the room. You look up, locking eyes with Max, your brother's teammate. "Hey Max" you say, smiling at him. He looks at you with an unreadable expression before mumbling a greeting. "How are you? I hope you feel better after the crash last weekend, that was quite scary" you tell him, your voice soft because you didn't want to come off as insensitive.

He stares at you, his expression hardening when you smile sweetly at him. "If I answer, will you stop bothering me?" he asks, and you look at him with wide eyes. You don't trust your voice, swallowing the lump before you nod. "I'm fine" he grunts. Grabbing a bottle of water before walking out of the room again. You look at his disappearing figure, sighing before looking at your phone screen again. Max always acts like this towards you, while all you do is ask how he's feeling or if he had a good week. You don't understand why he gets so annoyed with you. You already asked your brother, and his only answer was "he doesn't open up easily, don't take it personal." Easier said than done, because you take it very personal.

"Oh my god!" you hear a familiar voice exclaim, and you look up with a gasp. Max is standing a few metres away from you, looking at you as if you just popped all his tires 5 seconds before the race starts. He's still in his race overalls, apparently coming back from a meeting. "H-hi?" you stutter, facepalming yourself inwardly before putting your hand up as a greeting. You hear him scoff, which makes you regret your greeting immediately. "What are you doing here?" he asks, walking towards you a little with his arms crossed. "I'm waiting for my brother, he invited me to the race" you say, looking at your hands while fiddling with your rings. He hums, not saying anything but stepping a little closer to you.

"Uh," you say, looking up at him. He cocks his head while he raises an eyebrow, waiting for you to continue. "How are you?" you ask, regretting the question as soon as you ask it when Max lets out a groan. "Why do you always ask me that?" he says while looking down on you. You shrug, looking at a group of people who exit the paddock with a bunch of bags and equipment. "Answer me when I ask you a question" Max says, stepping closer towards you when you look at him. "Because I... I don't know. It's a normal thing to ask" you reply, looking sideways towards your brother's garage, hoping that he comes to your rescue soon.

"So, you just keep asking me, every time you see me, how I am doing, because it's a normal thing to ask?" Max asks, shaking his head at you. "What a stupid reason, I think it's normal to ask someone that if you actually give a fuck about them. You don't give a fuck about me, so why do you keep asking it, hm?" he places his hands on the armrest, leaning down so he's at eye level with you. You swallow nervously, your eyes darting past his face, hoping you see someone who can help you. You gasp when he grabs your chin suddenly, moving your face so you look him in his eyes. "Stop asking if I'm okay if you don't care about the answer" he growls, "you're annoying me with those questions. Do you understand?"

You stare at him, taking a breath before answering him, "and if I do care, am I allowed to ask you how you're doing then?" Max seems a little taken aback by your answer, blinking before his eyes study your face. You can feel your heartbeat against your ribcage while you keep staring at him. His eyes have an unreadable expression in them. It seems like he wants to say something, but he doesn't know how. You wait patiently, the only audible thing are your breaths, mixed with each other in the cold September evening air. He takes in a shaky breath, "you shouldn't say things like that." He steps back from you, shaking his head before running his fingers through his hair.

You stand up too, grabbing his arm when he's about to walk away. "Why can't I say that I care about you?" you ask him, raising your voice a little before looking around the, luckily, empty paddock. He looks at you with an angry expression, balling his fists before taking a deep breath. "Because I don't want you to care" he answers, pulling his arm from your grip. You look at him with a confused expression. "Why?" you ask, taking a small step towards him. You have to admit that angry Max is scaring you a little, but you just want to understand why he's acting like this. "It's not going to hurt when you let me in" you say softly, looking at Max to gauge his reaction. "Yes, it will, stop trying" he breaths, taking a step back. "What will happen if I don't stop trying?" you reply, taking a step towards him again.