"Growing up having racing at the centre of your family, isn't always as exciting as people think. My father lived and breathed racing, and almost died because of it.
I have always been in my brother's shadow, always known for being Romero's little...
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Lucia
Throughout my brother's karting days, he only had one main rival that he couldn't stand, Max Verstappen. Our fathers had a media friendly relationship but behind closed doors, they would encourage their sons to have no mercy on one another. Max and I would occasionally speak. However, at the beginning we were never really particularly close, yeah we were neighbours back in Belgium for a little while, but that was it. Over the years as we grew older, saw each other more around the karting tracks and racing events, we got closer. He saw something in me that was worth someone's time, he understood what it was like to have a father who only cared about racing. We kept in touch via text messages, never once did we speak in person, oh no that would affect my brother's reputation.
Max always understood me, no matter how many times he'd ask me to meet him down at the park, or go on a walk in the city or just hang out with him, but I always had to say no. He never once left me, he never gave up on me.
When I turned 22, Max encouraged me to move to Monaco, he had been living there since he was 17 and said it was absolutely worth it. My brother was one of the only drivers that hadn't moved to Monaco, he wouldn't because my father was in Belgium and he would never leave his side, even though he was 24 and could make his own decisions. That was the only reason I needed to book my flight and have all my stuff shipped off to the apartment Max had found me, it happened to be the one that was on the floor underneath him. I didn't mind though, because after all I needed at least one friend over there.
My father was furious when I told him 2 days before I was leaving. My mother cried and tried to understood why I had to go. I was stuck living in both my father's and brother's shadows. If I was known at all outside of my modeling bubble, it was for being Romero's little sister. I had dreams and goals I wanted to achieve, I wanted to explore the world but most importantly I was a love so deep that it consumed every part of me. Of course my brother took to my father's side and refused to speak to me. My mother was the only one who took me to the airport but she didn't even see me off at the gate, she just dropped me and my bags in the car park. Like I was a distant relative that had over stayed their welcome.
The flight from Belgium to Monaco was only 1 hour and 45 minutes. I wasn't going that far but it was far enough. Anywhere was better than being in that house. Starting a new life would do some good for me. But I was glad to have my best friend greeting me at the beginning of it.
Max was kind enough to pick me up at the airport and to my surprise he was waiting at the gate, in disguise with a hat and sunglasses on of course, and holding his arms out for me to run into.
I dropped my bags and ran to him, holding back some tears.
I whispered "oh Maxie you came".
"You called" he laughed back.
And I let out a little giggle, remembering that I had begged him to pick me up, but I didn't need to beg, he had already planned to pick me up whenever I decided to move to Monaco. Even if I had moved 3 years ago, or if I was moving in 3 years time. He was going to be there.
"Being your official tour guide but more importantly really attractive best friend, I will now show you the great things Monaco has to offer" he semi yelled and waved his arms out in front of him.
"Max you have you to be quiet, what if someone sees us, I'll be extradited back to Belgium and I haven't even been in the county for 10 minutes" I said as I playfully slapped his arm and we started laughing.
Driving through the streets of Monaco, you got to see all the different lives being enjoyed here. The business men travelling to work, the tourists floating about and the locals fuelling the busyness of the city. I was grateful that Max didn't choose one of his well known cars, where he would be easily recognised. Most drivers had cars with either their racing numbers or country colours on them. But he had gone out of his way to ask his social media manager to hire a car just to pick me up from the airport. A simple black car with slightly tinted windows, he understood that I couldn't be seen with him unless we where at the paddock passing by each other or at racing social events. He never once held that against me, he never once told me to get over my father's rules.
