Drive to Survive

Prologue

Prologue

"Hey mate, do you have a sec?"

Max looked up to see Bradley, his Performance Coach, coming into the empty office where he'd been sat alone, scrolling through social media and enjoying the rare minutes he had to himself. Brad looked apologetic before he'd even started speaking; he knew Max well and definitely knew the decompression time was valuable so he hated to be interrupting it.

Regardless, Max nodded and gestured for Brad to come further into the room. He took a seat opposite and pulled out an A4 sheet of paper.

"Bit of an odd one." He started, still trying to make sense of his instructions, "Comms team just got off the phone with Netflix an-"

"Tell me we're not doing another fucking season."

Max couldn't help the interruption. 

He'd made it clear to his friends, his team, and to the producers themselves that he lamented the process of filming Drive to Survive, the hit Netflix series that closely followed Formula One drivers throughout the championship. He didn't appreciate the way they pried at things he worked hard to keep secret, the way they pitted the drivers against each other, and the way they portrayed him as the villain. 

The last season in particular had shredded his reputation after his controversial championship fight against Lewis Hamilton. There'd been an outpouring of public abuse online, all saying he didn't deserve it and he was a terrible person.

His comms team had basically gone grey from the stress of trying to manage the varying PR crises and Max's refusals to engage with different media sources didn't help.

The whole thing had taken the shine of what should have been an incredible moment for him and left him still feeling unfulfilled. He was back again this year to prove to everyone that last year wasn't a fluke, and he could do without the Netflix team twisting his words and following him when he wanted to be left alone.

Yet, despite his many protests, the decision to participate was above his pay grade. 

Christian, his Team Principal and essentially his boss, had made it very clear that the show was good for exposure and publicity, meaning greater sponsorship and merchandise sales. If Max wanted to stay a Red Bull driver - and he did - then he had to participate in the ridiculous production of this 'reality' show. 

Bradley grimaced, "Sorry, I thought Christian had already..."

Max waved a dismissive hand, "Don't worry, continue."  

"Well, apparently the production team feels that they only had partial access over the last few years and to improve the show, they want greater access to the behind-the-scenes moments."

"How much more access do they need?!" Max snapped, "They're at every race! There's a camera around every fuckin-" He stopped himself and took a deep breath,  "I'm sorry, I know I'm interrupting again. Carry on." 

Brad eyed him warily, "You know, you're probably not going to like what I have to say."

"Yeah I guessed that, say it anyway."

"Each driver is to have a content creator assigned to them to follow them personally throughout the upcoming race season."

A frown appeared on Max's face and he blinked twice, thinking through Brad's words carefully, "So someone is going to be with me all the time?"

"I think it- it's not all the time. Obviously you have personal requirements." He glanced down at the sheet before him, "But when you're at the track, or at events, then yes. Someone will be with you all the time. They want to properly capture the life of an F1 driver outside of interviews and track walks. They'll be like part of our team."

"And Christian's okay with this? He doesn't think it's going to encourage me to drive that fucking car into the wall and off myself?"

Brad frowned worriedly at Max's bitter tone before sliding the sheet of paper across the table towards him, "There's a bright side, okay? You can choose the person who follows you- choose someone who aligns with your style. They'll just be like a friend in the background. It could really help you with the media stuff."

Max grunted in response, his eyes scanning the paper in front of him. It held a list of names, followed by their respective university degrees and some bullet-pointed likes and dislikes. There were around 6 people to choose from, all hailing from a variety of countries. He could see some other names that had already been blanked out where they'd been assigned to other drivers across the grid.

"Well no girls first off, I'm not risking any distractions." He grumbled, crossing through 'Maddy Cox' and 'Eva Celina'. 

Since watching Charles go through a dramatic break-up with his girlfriend half-way through a race season, Max had been internally resolute about not allowing any distractions like that to enter his life. It wasn't difficult; most of the girls that hung around the grid flocked to Charles, Carlos, and Pierre anyway. Any that did come his way were usually put off by his blunt nature but having a girl literally assigned to his side was a dumb idea. 

He looked over the rest of the list.

"Max Gunner- well, same name as me is just going to be confusing."

A swishing sound followed his words as he swiftly crossed through the names on paper.

"Hunter An- nope, no Americans. Can't stand the accent." 

Two names were left. 

Both from good universities, one from Oxford in England and the other from Monaco. Max glanced at their likes and dislikes. 

DYLAN JAMES

Likes: Formula One, Running, Photography, Baking, Dogs

Dislikes: Early Mornings, Peanut Butter, Sushi

ROBERT DANIAU

Likes: Travelling, Mercedes, Hiking, Action Films

Dislikes: Spiders, Video Games, Football

"Well I'm not having a Mercedes lover, that's just stupid."

Max swiped one more time across the paper before shoving it back to Bradley with a roll of his eyes. Bradley glanced over the list before nodding and standing up. 

"Dylan James it is then."