Max Verstappen - Memories

0.16 An Angel Wearing A Red Bull Jacket

Isla looked through her closet. Blue denim jeans, a black shirt, a blazer- no Red Bull jacket, heels, earrings and a cap. Max had gotten her plenty of his merch which she loved. A knock came from the door. Before she could turn to call them in, the door had opened and in Max walked. "Isla? So I realised you probably won't like wearing thsi weird heel boot things all day so I thought I'd get you some-" Max looked up and paused. He saw Isla with a Red Bull jacket, proudly on her back. "Wow." He was breathtaken. She looked like an angel, an angel wearing a Red Bull jacket. Isla chuckled. "Cat got your tongue?" Max grinned. "As I was saying, I thought I'd get you some shoes." Max set them down on the bed. "Please don't tell me you went and bought me a new pair of shoes too." Max shook his head. "Nope. They're my mum's. You looked like you had similar shoe sizes."

"You're stealing your mother's clothes for me now?" Isla joked as she walked towards Max. "You're the only person worth stealing my mums's things for." She laughed. "Yeah, yeah. Let me get the stolen shoes on and we'll go, lover boy."

The cameras flashed as Isla walked through the paddock, Max right beside her and his PR there too. She smiled and tried her best to look alright. She didn't go to any races as of yet and for Monaco to be the first race she went to, was big. Max had to stop for a few fans so of course Isla was stood by herself.

Unbeknownst to her, there was a certain someone who couldn't stop staring at her. There was something about her that he couldn't quite put his finnger on, but he adored her without even knowing her or hearing her voice. He memorised her clothes, memorised how she smiled and how her eyes crinkled slightly and just for a minute, he felt like he could go and introduce himself. That was until she locked eyes with him. They were both so confused. There was a connection from a good 20 meters from eachother. They hadn't met, hadn't even heard of eachother.

Isla snapped out of her thoughts when she felt Max pat her shoulder. "Hey? You alright there?" he asked. Isla looked behind him. "Who's that?" Isla asked walking with Max. She pointed at a boy, probably a driver with a white and red shirt and sunglasses on. Max rolled his eyes and continued on walking with her to the Red Bull garage. "He's not important right now. Let's just go get you comfortable for the race." Max smiled as he glared over to the monegasque. Isla shrugged it off and walked with Max to be seated before the race started. "Seriously, who was that?" Isla chuckled as they ventured into the garage. "Just a rookie. Charles Leclerc. He's the hero here I suppose." Isla nodded her head. "He's kind of good looking." Max's head turned to face his beloved Isla and shot her a look. "I'm joking of course. I wouldn't do that to you." Isla kept looking forward and walked ahead of Max into the garage. Max stayed outside the garage and glared at Charles, long enough for him to turn his head back around to try and mind his own business.

They finally got into the garage and it was safe to say, Isla loved it. Her eye lit up upon looking around at all the information screens and data firing around the place. It looked so cool. "Okay so you're just going to sit here. If you need a drink or anything, you ask my PR over here. Is that okay with you schatje?" Isla nodded her head and smiled at him. "That's absolutely perfect." She smiled. Max turned to walk away but felt Isla hold his hand. "Excuse me sir, you didn't get a beso de la suerte yet." Max looked at her confused. "A what now?" Before Max got an answer, she pulled him in and pecked his cheek, leaving a light red lip stain on his cheek. "Beso de la suerte." She grinned. Max was tongue tied. He didn't know what to say.

"So, are you going to go drive now?" She grinned as he became more and more flustered. "I- yeah. I guess I should go." He mumbled before scurrying away to his car and trying to focus, but he couldn't help but fall for the angel in the Red Bull jacket, cheering him on like he was best on the grid.