Raging Bulls || Max Verstappen MV

14. Highlights

"You love me when it's easy, you love me when it looks good to your friends, 

You love me when you need me, Or anytime the spotlight's on again, 

And it's been this way my whole life, Sometimes it feels like, 

You only love me for the highlights."

⁂

The sun was going down on the walk to my car. Luckily, I'd avoided the last round of reporters trying to get one last comment or picture. The parking lot was quiet except for two voices that I unfortunately recognized.

"Oscar c'mon we have to get her one!" Their backs were to me but I could clearly make out the orange and blue of Mclaren and Williams gear. 

"We can't just go to a random store and ask for an ice cream cake."

"Why not that is what bakeries are for? I'll even place the order! All we have to do is run inside–or! Maybe they'll bring it to us."

Why were Oscar Piastri and Logan Sargeant talking about ice cream cake?

"It's for Mat...we gotta do it." I watched as the American stared down his friend. The Mclaren driver must have finally broken under the pressure letting out an audible sigh.

"You're lucky I love the both of you. You guys better do the same thing for me when I get my first podium."

"Yes! Oh this is gonna be so fun, you know we love you too Oscar. I already have the design picked out--" their conversation tapered off as the car doors opened then closed and they peeled out of the lot quickly.

It was just me and the radio as I drove, which is exactly how I wanted it. Even the lobby was silent when I got back to the hotel. But, that silence was interrupted by a driver I knew and actually liked,

"There he is! The winner of the 2023 Australian Grand Prix!" Daniel's voice boomed through the empty space. "I bet you've had all the congratulations, so I apologize for being repetitive." I wasn't going to tell Daniel that he was the first person outside of my direct crew to congratulate me.

"Yeah but it never gets old hearing you're the best." Daniel threw his head back and clapped a hand on my shoulder.

"Good to hear it hasn't gone to your head mate." He hoisted his duffel bag up higher.

"What are you doing tonight? We could hang out, get a late dinner or something?"

"Oh yeah sorry Max, I'm headed to see some friends at home. They've been planning this since the last time we were all here." My former teammate laughed to himself. "Do you wanna come along? I'm sure they would love to have you!" He grinned and I almost said yes...almost.

"No mate, you go and have fun. I just remembered I had dinner with someone scheduled. Thanks for reminding me." Daniel checked his watch then shook his head slightly.

"Alright Max, text me if you change your mind. I can send you the address...I promise we'd love to see you." He gave me one last tap on the arm and I just smiled thanking him as he left.

My hotel room was quiet. I clicked the TV on and found a random show that filled a bit of the silence, until I heard it. Laughter seeped through the wall that connected to HER room. Loud congratulatory yells followed and I covered my ears with the cheap hotel pillow. Searching through the covers, I grasped the remote and quickly turned up the volume.

I just wanted to watch my show...in peace...alone. But, I couldn't focus with the now indescribable muttering. Pulling my phone from the bedside table, no new notifications lit up the screen. I took to social media and found that my father had made a post.

Always love watching you do what you do. Such a proud father zoon. Let's keep it up, onto Baku.

Proud? He's proud? But he won't tell me that...he'd never tell me that. Not until we're in an interview, or in front of his friends or the cameras are pointed in our direction.

I moved the pillow from covering my ears to my mouth as I let out a short scream of frustration. The sound of the door next to me closing caught my attention as well as the muffled male voices that followed. I turned my attention back to the TV and felt my mood lighten at the thought of my teammate finally alone in her room.

Then the shouting started. At first, I thought I'd imagined it...the burst of noise had been quick. I turned down the volume and listened closer this time.

"Because!" It was definitely coming from her room. "Matilde, you think nothing you do can come back to you. You don't wear the team gear, you dye your hair, you disregard interviews. Yet, you think you're not going to pull all the attention."

Screaming, broken trophies and a young boy being pushed against a wall.

"You will never be good enough!"

The sudden quiet pulled me from those memories and I found myself in the hallway. Confusion fought with the rage that stirred inside of me as I stared at her door. Taking a few steps closer, my ear pressed against the cold wood. Voices still spoke within her room but I couldn't make out the words. As footsteps suddenly grew closer to the exit, I hurried to back away quickly.

The door was opened slowly revealing Mick Schumacher,

"Max." I think he nodded but my eyes weren't on him. She stood in the middle of the room, eyes glossy and appearing the smallest I'd ever seen. She was blinking quickly with her arms wrapped tightly around herself...and she was staring right back at me. There wasn't a hint of the bravado, arrogance or mask of happiness left on my teammate's face. Without thinking, I opened my mouth to say something...anything, but the door slammed shut between us.

My breaths were short and ragged as heat crawled all over my body. Flashes of memories new and old played through my head as my teammate's hollow expression intertwined. Back in my room, the walls were closing in, my TV was too loud and the lamp was too bright.

Why had I gone out there? Why had her brother been shouting? Why was I so angry? What was wrong with me?

Without thinking, I grasped the lamp and pulled it off the bedside table. The next moment, ceramic and glass broke against the wall with a crash. Heavy breathing filled the room as my chest heaved. I ran a hand through my hair quickly but froze as the door next to me opened and closed. Footsteps echoed in the hallway and I still couldn't move. I couldn't pull my eyes from the little sliver of light at the bottom of the doorway as the steps halted.

Would she knock? What would I say? Why should she care?

Neither of us moved for a few long moments. My skin buzzed and I couldn't even take a breath. Finally, the footsteps receded and her door closing for the final time shook me from the trance.

I took a cold shower trying to calm the simmering heat that had taken residence throughout my body. Managing anger was something I wasn't well versed in. As I pulled the covers over my head I couldn't push the image of her standing alone in the middle of that room from my head.

Memories in the form of dreams plagued my sleep. For the first time in months I woke with a scream and shivered in a cold sweat. The clock read 4:30 am as I quickly dressed and headed for the gym. My fists slammed into the bag hit after hit.

This was her fault. Punch. Since she had been announced as my teammate, everything has gone to shit. Punch. I hate her. Punch. She doesn't deserve to be in a Red Bull car. Punch. She didn't deserve to be on the podium. Punch. She won't be on the podium again. Punch.

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Over 13k reads???? Y'all are awesome

This was a chapter that I hadn't really been planning to write but our boy Max deserves some screen time! Thank you for all the comments I really love getting to read them and see what y'all are thinking as you read!

Have an amazing weekend and I'll be updating soon

<3 S