On the track of my mind (M.V)

Part 15 // "Great."

Max

Lavigne still had that stressed look on her face. I knew that she wouldn't tell me what was wrong. So I wasn't suprised when she nodded after I asked her if she was okay. 

"I can't help you if you don't tell me." I explained to her. "I never asked for help anyways." she shot back. "I have a feeling it has to do with me." I said. She just sighed and closed her eyes. "Just read the comments." she told me. "What comments?" I asked confused. Did she get hate online or something? She gave me her phone and after reading a few I knew what was going on.

"I'm sorry." I tried. "Don't be." she said but no sympathy was found in her voice. 

The rest of the ride was silence. But Lavigne didn't seem that sad anymore. I couldn't believe that I felt bad for her. I was supposed to dislike her. Like she disliked me. But why did it seem like she didn't?

The car dropped us of at a small airport. My private jet was already waiting and Lavigne's eyes were wide when I guided us towards it. 

"You have a private plane?" she asked me suprised. "Why do you sound suprised?" I felt kind of offended by the fact that she didn't think that I would have one. I was a two time world champion. Ofcourse I had a private plane.

"I've just never flown with one." she explained. "It's the best, believe me." I said while I let her get in first. 

See, I was nice.

She sat down in one of the big chairs. No one else was flying with us expect a steward and the pilot, obviously. I never wished more for anyone else, really just anyone, to be here too. Having a private plane suddenly wasn't that fun anymore.

 I sat down on the big chair in front of her, the only thing seperating us was a little table. She looked out of the window and the last rays of sun fell on her hair making it look golden. Headphones were already on her head and I was sure that the music was loud enough so she wouldn't hear me. I took my eyes off of her and took a deep breath. This was going to be a long flight.

...

Jules

Blasting music in my ears didn't help me with calming down. I was in an airplane with Max Verstappen. It wasn't just an airplane, it was a private jet. I should've expected it, he was a world champion. 

A steward came up to us with champagne. I took my headphone off and while I politely told him I didn't want one I could feel Max' eyes on me. I turned my head and was proven right. He looked at me with a puzzled look while he slowly took a sip.

"You don't want one?" he asked me. "I'm taking a break from alcohol for a while." I explained to him thinking about last night. "This one is alcohol free. I'd rather have the real one on the podium." he said with a smug smile on his face and I wished that I could hit it off.

...

Max

Headphones on, probably blasting Taylor Swift, and completely ignoring me the whole flight. That was what I thought she would do. I didn't want her to have a conversation with me but- no, I did want her to talk to me. Anything would be better than this akward silence. So I had to be the one to break it.

"Do you have a middle name?" I asked her. Her head slowly turned my way and she looked at me blankly. "Do you have a middle name?" I asked her again. She took off her headphones and looked at me confused. "What?" she asked me quite annoyed. I took a deep breath.