Adrenaline: A Lestappen Story

28 - When Gods Bleed

"I'm not," Max replied after a few minutes, "but I won't be able to see you tonight, I need to concentrate for tomorrow. I'll see you after the race."

The simple and somewhat bland text messages exchanged between Max and Charles was a stark contrast to the worried discussions that ensued among Red bull engineers regarding his performance in the sprint race. Max's uncharacteristic mistakes had sent shockwaves through the team, prompting a flurry of activity as they rushed to diagnose and rectify the issue.

With Max's flawless reputation on the line, the team wasted no time in preparing a thorough revision of the car, addressing any broken components and conducting an in-depth analysis to understand what had gone wrong. Every moment was precious as they worked tirelessly to regain their competitive edge.

In the midst of the chaos, Christian Horner stepped in to guide Max to his office, shielding him from prying eyes and providing a more secluded space for discussion. The weight of Max's unexpected errors hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over his once unblemished record and posing a significant threat to their championship.

"We'll attribute it to a car issue," Christian said promptly, settling into a chair across from Max. "What went wrong?"

"I understeered..." Max replied, his gaze dropping like that of a child being scolded by a parent.

"I noticed, but your performance has been inconsistent lately, Max," the older man observed, his gaze searching. "What's the matter? Are you losing motivation?"

Max glanced out the window in silence, grappling for the right words to convey his inner turmoil. "I'm not losing motivation," he asserted firmly, turning to meet Christian's eyes.

"Then what is it?" Christian pressed.

"I'll sort it out," Max declared, jaw clenched as he shifted in his seat. "I'll win tomorrow. I'll bring home the championship," he added, his certainty ringing clear.

"Very well," Christian acknowledged, lifting his eyebrows. He knew prying further wouldn't yield the answers he sought. "Do what you must, but bring back the Max we know. We're already facing problems with the team, as you know, so we need you to be focused."

Max regarded the man quietly, his eyes reflecting a mixture of determination and uncertainty. He understood that his feelings for Charles had begun to seep into his performance on the track, blurring the lines between his personal and professional lives. It was a challenge he knew he had to confront, lest it jeopardize his career and his relationship with Charles. Finding a way to control his emotions would be crucial if he hoped to succeed in the race.

Max rose to leave the room, but Christian quickly stopped him, calling his name again. "Max, I know your dad is here. He'll probably want to talk to you when you see him today, I assume. But take whatever he says with a grain of salt, don't get too worked up. His speeches have affected your performance before, take in only what will be useful to you."

The blond nodded. He knew how to handle his father; after all, he had grown up with him and understood his character well. Despite this, Christian was right — his father would definitely want to talk to him that night.

Finally arriving at his hotel, Max made his way towards the main hall, only to be intercepted by one of the hotel hosts who informed him that his dad was waiting for him at the bar. With a lump in his throat, Max crossed the hotel's main floor to find the main bar, almost empty except for a few scattered souls — his father being one of them.

Taking a seat beside the older man, Max let out a long sigh and ordered a beer to join his father in his drinking.

"I made a mistake, that's all, I'll fix things tomorrow," Max commented immediately, preempting any words from Jos.