malicious | max verstappen

fifteen.

ELYSE's POV

The bright sun boiled me alive. It didn't help I was wearing a literal sweater too. The moment I woke up I knew I was fucked.

I slept the whole night in the car, in the place Max and I danced and didn't come back to my room.

I opened my phone to look at the time: it was 2:30PM. Shit.

101 missed calls from mami🤎
26 missed calls from lulu-hamilton-lemon👿
49 missed calls from carlos👺‼️
12 missed calls from danny ric 🤗
7 missed calls from unsaved contact (lando)
3 missed calls from boss (toto 🫂🫂🫂)
10 missed calls from max
36 missed calls from hails

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." I started to frantically pull at my hair. A car rolled up next to mine as I was putting the cigarette box and lighter away. A Mercedes'.

The tinted window rolled down to reveal non-other than Lewis, with an extremely disappointed look on his face as he noticed what was in my hands.

I wanted to have a mental breakdown right there and then. I could bare disappointing my father or even disappointing every Formula One fan but Lewis? Never.

He rolled the window back up and started driving so I started driving behind him. An unsettling pit in my stomach formed, I felt like throwing up at any given moment.

But, I sucked it up and headed back to the hotel to change into team wear and get to the paddock to give my interviews. I apologized profusely to each interviewer letting them know I accidentally overslept and answered all the questions I had expected to be asked.

Once I was done with all my interviewer and was scolded by each person I knew for worrying them to death, especially my mother. Again, I apologized. But as I was trying to find Lewis, he was nowhere to be found. I called and texted him a countless amount of times but was met with no reply or heading straight to voicemail.

I fell asleep trying to contact Lewis and when I woke up the next day I continued my attempts at getting to him. I spotted him on the hotel restaurant at breakfast but he kept himself occupied at a full table with team members.

I knew I fucked up pretty badly but having Lewis ignore me felt like a knife constantly being plunged into me, placing me in an endless cycle of pain. I hated this. I wish I never touched that cigarette. I wish Lewis could just look at me.

None of my wishes were answered for the remainder of the day since whenever I'd find Lewis alone, he'd have to busy himself somehow and go do anything else but talk to me.

The following day went the same way and even when I managed to get pole, I received nothing but a congratulatory pat on the back from him.

Whenever Max tried to talk to me, I ended up snapping at him and telling him to leave me alone. I knew I couldn't blame him for what I was going through now, but the petty part of me did— I mean, with all the confusing shit he's been putting me through, I had to relieve myself somehow.

On Sunday, I managed to win the race and Mercedes' had a 1-2 finish with Lewis in second and Max in third. I should've been happy, ecstatic even, for increasing my lead and getting my fourth consecutive race win so far, but I only felt disappointment.

It felt so disappointing not being able to celebrate with the person I wanted to celebrate with the most.

On the day we were supposed to head back home, I caught Lewis in the halls talking with Angela.

"Lewis!" I managed to grab his attention.

His smile turned into a thin line.

"Can we please talk?" I asked him desperately.