Lie To Survive | Leclerc x Verstappen

Jeddah 2022

Max had a way of grounding himself before getting on track, a ritual he never strayed away from. In his driver room, tucked away in the comfort of the paddock, Max plays one match on his X-box.

Sometimes, if some other driver is online, he might play a group game with him, but today, he is alone and he enjoys some FIFA before Qualifying. He wants to better his performance so that history doesn't repeat himself.

Bahrain was , without denying, a hard blow.

How does it look if the world champion DNF on the first race back? Like he just lost whatever he had.
What did he have, though? Was it talent? Was it sheer luck? No, it was hard work.

Of course, the mind blowing sex with the race winner made it slightly better. Okay, maybe a lot. But as soon as he woke the morning after, he made himself painfully aware that Charles was nowhere to be seen. Max should have been used to this behaviour by now, but after the interviews, he thought maybe something had cracked into Charles' idea of him, allowing him to see the bigger picture.

He didn't simply "think" that. He knew Charles had asked him more questions than he was supposed to. Why that was, Max wasn't too sure.

He didn't care too much. Or at least, he tried not to.

When getting in the car at qualis, he tried to look over at the Ferrari paddock, but Charles was nowhere to be seen.

Het is beter zo, Max.

But he knew it wasn't, really. He lost a race and Charles hadn't texted him in a whole week, even though they had been in Saudi Arabia for a whole 24 hours already, and he had seen from his instagram that he had gone to a bar with Pierre, Carlos and Yuki. He had no luck at practice, since Charles had gotten out of the paddock, followed by Lando, only to get in his car and had left the minute they were free to go in Norris' car.

He was acting like a teenage girl. And he was F1 world champion. He had to pull himself together and, more importantly, get to his car.

Helmet on, steering wheel in the car.

"Radio check"

"Loud and clear Max."

and Qualifying started.

Max loved the feeling of quali. His Red Bull completely flew over the circuit, no obstacles in sight, just trying to get the best results for the starting grid. He knew last week's problems with the engines had been fixed and the feeling of the concrete under the wheels was supremely pleasing.

When he crossed the line, it felt like a pole.

The next breath he took felt like the pure and clear sentiment of blatant victory.

Heavy on felt.

"Good effort Max, P4 for today"

Was that supposed to be a joke? If it was, it wasn't funny in the slightest

"P4?"

"I can confirm, P4. P3 given to Sainz, P2 to Leclerc, P1 to Perez."

"Copy that."

P4? Him?

He didn't see how that would be possible.

With a good car? Brand new engine? The track cleared?

What the fuck was wrong with him?

He knew he was able to rise to P1 from a P4 during the race. He did it before. But he shouldn't have to, he shouldn't distress his tires from the start like that, he shouldn't push the car in a way in which he would risk to crash it. And most importantly, he shouldn't put anyone in danger.