Barcelona

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Max had a good start of the year he finished in the point in 3 of the 4 races, the last one he didn't because of an powerunit failure in the Russian race. Only three days later it was confirmed that that was his last race for Torro Rosso, he would Drive the next race for Redbull. By then, not knowing what that raceweekend would hold.

Charles was feeling amazing, he had won the first feature race of the GP3 championship, what a way to start the year!. His father had called him and told him how proud he was. He was sad his father couldn't be there, but he was still happy his father could see him thrive in racing cause he knew his father was very sick at this point. So he just enjoyed the moment.

When they finished the podium ceremony he was making his way back to the paddock when he heard his name being shouted with that familiar French accent. Pierre was running up to him with his arms open, with Max Verstappen slowly trailing behind him. Pierre hugged him tightly while telling him how proud he was of his friend. 'You are gonna win the championship this year Charlito, I feel it!' He told him. Also Max congratulated Charles on his win. Charles in return congratulated Max on his transfer to the big team. It was nice the three of them chatting like this. It reminded them of that first year on the karting track while they were still racing each other. It was nice to be in the same paddock again. Max in f1, Pierre in Gp2 and Charles in Gp3. After a little chat the three of them said their goodbyes, Charles on his way to his motorhome, Pierre to the grid of the Gp2 race and Max went to Redbull to prepare for qualifying.

The next day would go in the history books as absolutely insane, Max who qualified 4th on Saturday his first weekend in the car went to win the Spanish Grand Prix on his debut. It felt like a dream to the dutchman, he couldn't believe it. Everyone that criticised the move, deaming that he wasn't ready, they were proven wrong. While Max made his way to the Redbull hospitality, followed by a massive group of press, all wanting to capture the Dutch wonderkid he saw Charles giving him thumbs up from behind the stream off people , he smiled back before he made his way towards his father. Even though they fought a lot and didn't always agree, they worked so hard for this, so he wanted to share this with the man who helped to get him to were he was today. That day he celebrated in to the early Monday morning hours. Probably drinking a few to many gin tonics.

Max was now sitting in the viplounge of the airport waiting till he could board his flight for the short trip back to Monaco. His now home. He was sitting alone in the far back, sunglasses on cause his head was still pounding from the hangover he had. He closed his eyes for a little bit. After what should been like 15 minutes, he awoke from his powernap. A hand softly tapping his shoulder. 'Rough night, mate?' He got asked in a familiar French accent. When he opened his eyes he saw his childhood rival standing beside him. 'I'm assuming you're also flying back to Nice ,right?' He asked the dutchman. 'Yeah why?' He asked still a bit groggy. 'Because the flight is about to close boarding and I had a feeling you had fallen a sleep when I saw your sitting here 30 minutes ago, and since you still weren't in the line for boarding I thought I'd check if you were still here. So come on hurry than we just might catch the plane!' The Monegask explained. 'Fuck, did I fell asleep that long?!' Max panicked quickly gathering his backpack before running beside the Monegask who pulled him by his arm to where the boarding station was. Ignoring the tingling feeling on his arm where the Monegask touched him.

When they finally settled in their seats,  that coincidentally were beside each other. They let out a breathe of relief that they managed to catch their plane on time. 'Well, that was fun!' Charles smiled. 'Yeah it was, we must have looked like idiots running like this trough the airport.' Max laughed. 'Yeah I think we did.' Charles laughed with him. When their laughter died down Max spoke again. 'Thanks for getting me by the way, it would have massively sucked if I had to arrange another flight.' 'No worries' The Monegask told him. 'But why did you though?' Max eyed him curiously. 'Well, I know the next flight would be in 7 hours, also like I said I had a feeling you were still sleeping. And if I was in that position I really would be in a shit mood if that happend.' The Monegask told him. 'Well thanks again Charles, I really appreciate it, cause yes I would indeed be in a very bad mood.' He smiled at the younger man. After that they fell in an easy chatter about racing and the weekend they have had. Before their conversation got more  serious again. Talking about Jules, the sickness of Charles's father and the complicated relationship Max has with his own. The pressure they both endured. They never really talked with each other about those heavy topics, but by now it almost felt natural. Before they knew it they heard the purser tell them that the flight was preparing for landing and they soon would touch down in Nice.

They decided to share a cab back to Monaco since they both were heading there anyway. They said goodbye in front of max's apartment building. 'Thanks again for saving my ass today Leclerc, I owe you!' He told the Monegask. 'Don't worry about it mate' he replied. Before he leaned in giving each other a akward side hug before turning towards the cab and taking of towards his own home.

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