The Bull Prince | Max Verstappen

Chapter One: The Art of War

The rules were simple, decide on a driver, who would do good on track and or with the fans and the media. If you got one, who was beloved or shored decently, you won your bet. The only limitation was their years in F1. You could only bet on people, who hadn't yet completed five years in F1. Have you already completed more than 5 years, you were allowed to set a bet. Since this was Daniel's sixth year in F1, he was finally allowed to put a bet as well, which the Australian did not want to miss, now that he was finally considered one of the adults.

"My money's on ..." He stopped to look through the crowd of people, his finger pointing on one after the other before it finally stopped. The Aussie's grin grew wider before he announced his decision.

"Palmer." He said, which caused Lewis to roll his eyes at the other man's theatrics, but he noted the bet, nevertheless.

Until Lewis went through the list, Joanna had watched quietly, realizing that Joanna was the only one, who was allowed to set a bet and hasn't already done it.

"What about you, Josie? On whom is your money?" He questioned and Joanna didn't have to think very long before she nodded in the direction, where Daniel and the Toro Rosso drivers were seated.

"Verstappen." She said to clarify with a blank gaze, which caused Fernando to snicker, pulling her attention to him. Joanna raised a challenging eyebrow, causing Fernando to smirk at her, while Max watched her closely.

"Going for talent over sympathy again?" Fernando questioned, which caused her to look him dead in the eye. Max wanted to speak up, to call Fernando out for insulting him, but Daniel stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, shaking his head and expectantly looking back to the sofa to indicate to Max, that he should sit back down. This wasn't about him, that was about a teammate rivalry that got out of hand years ago, with nobody to ease the hate.

"Let me guess, you went for Sainz? Again." Joanna presumed an unimpressed look on her face.

"Careful, your resting bitch face is showing. We don't want the media to know what a bitch you really are, no?" The Spaniard questioned, trying his best to rile her up before facing the press, but it never worked with her. Joanna was just too controlled.

"Then let's make a real bet. If Verstappen has scored more points than Sainz at the end of the year, you present me with your championship-winning 2005 Renault." Joanna challenged, which earned her a lot of attention from the rest of the drivers present.

No one who owned an F1 car would just place a bet on it, especially if they had won their only championship with it. Joanna on the other hand was a double champion, but Fernando wouldn't go for her 2008 or 2009 Renault. He wanted something which would hurt her to lose. He wanted a Ferrari.

"I want your father's Ferrari. 1975 or 1977. I feel generous today so you can then decide which one you want to part with."

"Jo!" Sebastian warned her, voice a little bit higher than normal, but the Austrian only gave him a look, before walking up to stand right in front of Fernando.

"Alright." She said, reaching her hand out, so Fernando could take it, what he did only to pull her a little bit closer to him. "No chickening out, Lauda."

"Why would I? It's not like Carlos has a chance." Fernando and Joanna were looking each other deep in the eye. None of them ready to be the first to break the gaze. It was the woman from before, who made sure they parted, before telling Joanna, that she could go on stage as soon as she would hear her name being called. Nodding softly, she moved over to the door, which was opened for her.

"Well, boys," Joanna spoke looking over her shoulder, which brought her the attention of all the men present in the room.

"Welcome to the hunger games." With that she let her resting bitch face slip and replaced it with a sincere and totally honest seeming smile, looking almost angelic with her golden hair, which was reached a little bit over her shoulders, before she stepped onto the stage.

Almost immediately the fans started to chant her name and wave excitedly their Ferrari flags. An ocean of excited fans and all wanted her to notice them. Joanna would have smirked, wouldn't she be on stage right now.

Most drivers betitled her to be fake, to blind the fans and press with her act. But the secret of why it worked so well was that it was real. When Joanna started in F1, the press wrote about her being too innocent, too open-minded, and that she didn't believe there was any evil in the world, which was true at that time. Joanna wasn't even angry that the press had slated her without mercy, she accepted all points of view and tried to work on herself and it was exactly this childlike innocence that earned her so many fans. She was the nice girl from next door and that's what got her so far in her career.

With the years her innocence dulled, she grew up. The world showed her that there wasn't only good, which changed her with the years, but the fans and the press kept her external childlike innocence. The girl with the bright and sincere smile.