genuinely wasn't expecting to get a chapter out in february - i'm so sorry to keep you waiting for this chapter!
as always, please leave your comments throughout and don't forget to vote. i'm going to dedicate my lonely valentines day to replying to you guys. also ignore that it's like 5am GMT when I'm uploading this my sleep schedule really is messed up.
~***~
Sebastian Vettel is my favourite member of Ferrari by a great margin (full offence to Charles). Not only is he a talented racer and respectful rival when on track, but he is the most humble and empathetic member of the entire paddock. When he cares about someone, he cares for them. I am so grateful for my close relationship with him especially during times like these. His many years on this Earth have made him wise, although I'd never say that to his face or else I'm sure he'll start ranting about how he's still 'very young'. Tell that to your grey hairs, Sebbie.
There was no stopping me when I opened up to Seb about everything. From Lando, to my dad, to my miscarriage and diagnosis, to my doubts about my future in the sport - I brought it all up like word vomit. Whilst a part of me recoiled at unloading all of my baggage onto yet another person, I knew that the subsequent weight off of my shoulders would be a big help. There's no-one on the current grid who I'd trust more with my problems. If anyone's going to be able to offer any advise, it'll be Sebastian. He maintained an open mind as he listened with great interest and gave me the warmest hug when I struggled to find the words to say to express my pain. I wished it was this easy to open to my own therapist, however Seb was more than enough to help me in the moment. I needed a friend in that moment, not a medical professional to analyse every single one of my thoughts and feelings.
After all of my tears, it was no surprise to Seb that I was physically exhausted. My mascara had been smeared further down my cheeks and I was far from paddock presentable. If I were to leave Seb's driver's room looking like this, there would be many assumptions made about me. I knew that I was going to experience some slander anyway because of my suddenly cancelled commitments - I need to minimise the bad press if I want to keep sponsors happy. Max wasn't due to finish for another hour and Seb was kind enough to let me relax in his quiet environment until he did. Unfortunately, I was going to be left alone so that Seb could attend the press conference I was supposed to be attending. I'm sure if Britta hadn't been spamming his phone with texts every two minutes, he'd have missed it with me.
I decided to spend my hour doing something relatively productive rather than just napping like I wanted to. Lizzie would lecture me if I did anything that could disrupt my sleep schedule so I pulled out my phone instead to update my Spotify. I had yet to miss a race weekend playlist, and my playlist for the Hungarian Grand Prix was nearing completion. Did I throw in a couple of songs to throw subtle shade at Lando? Yes. Just because I'm sad doesn't mean I'm any less petty.
As I added the final song to the playlist, my phone pinged with a notification from my sister. It brought tears to my eyes to see her, my brother, and Andrea together in the kitchen making my dad's favourite meal to celebrate his life rather than mourn his death. There were undertones of sadness in each of their smiles, but I knew that Dad wouldn't want us to be. I hadn't even attempted to make his favourite risotto dish since he died, and it was, to this day, the only thing I could probably cook decently. In that moment, I decided that I was going to make it for Max and I's dinner.
I knew I had another half an hour until Max was due to finish when my phone pinged again. This time, I had a text from Stoffel.
'Ran into D and he said you cancelled the rest of your duties for today. If you're still at the paddock, do you want a lift back to the hotel? It's been too long since I last annoyed you
- Waffle 🧇💙'
'Too long? You saw me barely three hours ago smh you can't get enough of me. If you can bring some sunglasses to Ferrari for me then, yes I'll take that lift back to the hotel. Just want to get back.
- Lys 🐍💙'
My gut knew that the half an hour I would be waiting for Max would probably turn into an hour with how popular he is. Everyone wants to interview him in hopes that he'll say something exciting and because he is one of the best drivers on the grid. If Stof was offering to take me back to the hotel sooner, there is no way that I'm turning that down. I would have offered to meet him in the paddock however Seb needed his sunglasses back and on display as part of a sponsor agreement.
'Ferrari? 🤨 You best be there causing drama and not because you're planning on switching up your contract anytime soon. You can't even speak Italian so they probably won't want you js. Be there in five
- Waffle 🧇💙'
'As if 🤧I'm in Seb's driver room. Had a moment earlier and didn't think it was best for me to be out in the paddock ya know? I'm all good now so don't worry that pretty little head of yours. Also, I'm surprised you didn't assume I was hooking up with a driver like you normally would this is what I call character development lmao
- Lys 🐍💙'
'You think I'm pretty? 🥺🥰 As long as you're okay. And I didn't want to seem like a dick when you're not feeling your best but I was thinking it... 😉
- Waffle 🧇💙'
I knew better than to reply to his message as it would just further encourage him to be annoying. After wiping underneath my eyes with some tissues I pulled from a box in Seb's room, I sent a quick text to Max to let him know I'll be waiting for him at the hotel. I was glad that this hotel room had a kitchen so that I'd be able to start preparing our dinner. If I'm sneaky, I could also try and convince Stoffel to assist in making the risotto. Burning down the hotel would not be ideal so any support in the kitchen would be greatly appreciated.
The only reflection of myself I could look at to check my appearance a final time was my phone's camera. Most of the black mascara was concentrated to underneath my eyes and was only really noticeable if someone were to look at me for a prolonged period of time. It might not be easy getting out with no questions; it's like Stof and I will be swimming with the sharks, the sharks being team members of Ferrari.
"Oof," Stoffel exclaimed, his face scrunching up as he approached me. "I've seen you look a lot better, I'm afraid." I hastily stood up from my leaning position against the railing leading up to Seb's driver room and greeted him with a relieved smile. In Stof's hand were the sunglasses he promised, which I hastily pushed onto my nose. The sunglasses had a blue-ish tint, making the surrounding red Ferrari colours look a subtle purple. "Much better."
The jokes about my rough appearance didn't last for as long as I thought they would. It caught me by surprise when Stoffel wrapped his arms around my body and pulled me against his chest. "Thank you for letting me leave with you," I mumbled. "Who knows what time Max'll end up finishing and I really just want to get back."
Stof pressed a kiss to the side of my head (I was still wearing my taller shoes and matched his height) before pulling away. "If I were you, I'd have cancelled everything today. Heck, you did more hours than me and the only thing bothering me is some achey muscles and a bruised ego. The fact that you managed to put on a brave face with everything going on easily makes you the strongest driver on the grid, albeit not necessarily physically - I would smoke you in an arm wrestle."
"I'll let you continue believing that because of your bruised ego," I replied as I nudged him playfully with my elbow.
The walk through the majority of the paddock was quiet apart from a few team personnel wandering around. Despite this, Stoffel walked slightly ahead and in front of me in a protective way. His positioning would hide my left hand from the media and offered some shielding from anyone with cameras. As we approached a larger crowd of people towards the exit, I gently grabbed ahold of the hem of his shirt with the tips of my fingers.
"Alyssa!" With the calling of my name, my grip on Stof's shirt changed so that the material was tightly held within my fist. Even though they wouldn't be able to see my eyes, I dropped them to the floor to try and avoid the gaze of the awaiting camera people.
I felt Stof tense as he went to move through the people. "Excuse me, please." His tone was firm and dominating; I expected everyone to just step aside and let us through.
"Alyssa, why are you missing the press conference?" someone asked, I didn't want to look up and see who. A microphone was thrust in my general direction, almost hitting me in the face. "Is it because of Lando? Is it true that you and Lando had a falling out after he rejected your romantic advances? Or were there tensions over the contracts for the upcoming seasons? Why are you the one to miss out on-"
"Dude, shut the fuck up or I'll shut you up myself," Stoffel angrily growled, using his right arm to push the microphone away from me. "Stop trying to make a story out of everything and leave her alone."
"Stoffel, are you the driver that Alyssa is rumoured to be in a relationship with?"
I held my tongue. If there was one thing I had been taught about how to deal with the media, is that silence is the best response to give. Anything that I say, even if my words are denying the rumours, can and will be taken out of context, especially without Damien around with his own recorder to keep a tab on every word spoken. In all honesty, I doubt I would've been able to form any words with the way my heart was racing and my mouth was as dry as a desert.
Thankfully, the security guards finally caught on to the commotion and managed to scare away the nosy people. I finally let out the breath I didn't know I was holding when I collapsed into the passenger seat of Stof's car. My chest was rising and falling a little heavier than normal because of the nerve-inducing encounter. Stof's was following a similar pattern, however his was more than likely down to anger because of the way his knuckles turned white against the steering wheel. Slowly, but surely, I'll eventually calm down.
"Never in my years of motorsport have I had to deal with anything like that," Stoffel said as he slowly pulled out of his parking spot. "It's disgusting."
"I've been having to deal with it every weekend since I revealed my identity," I replied with a roll of my eyes. "Some people really are literal dog shit." With my index finger, I pushed my sunglasses to the top of my head so that I could see Stoffel in natural lighting. "Thank you for sticking up for me, by the way. I don't think I'd have made it through that pack if you weren't by my side."
He shrugged his shoulders. "I shouldn't have lost my temper at them, but I don't regret it. You know I'll stick up for you for anything. Hopefully I haven't made anything worse. Knowing those people, they'll probably manage to twist it into a story about how you need a man to come to your defence," he finished his sentence with a noise of disgust. "If any of this makes it to the media and Toto gets mad, I'll take the blame, don't worry. Honestly, if you weren't holding my shirt, I'd have punched that guy there and then. I don't know how you stay so calm."
"Oh, you know, I just bottle my emotions until the cork pops and everything spills out. Very healthy-like."
"This is why you're in therapy."
"No, I'm in therapy because important parts of my life are shitty right now and I want to feel normal again," I corrected. "Need I give you a list of every single reason?"
Stoffel let out an exhale of amusement and shook his head. "There is not a car journey in the world long enough for you to list everything wrong with you. We'll spend hours just tackling the last few months! As much as I love you and respect you as a temporary teammate, I really cannot be bothered. I can offer you hugs instead?" He suggested.
I paused for thought for a moment, pulling my lips to one side and humming. "Deal," I agreed, "oh, and you could help me make dinner for tonight? You're more than welcome to eat with Max and I."
"Ew, no thanks, I don't need to see all of that PDA."
I sighed dramatically, resting my chin on my hand as my elbow rested against the window. "It was a cold and rainy day in Bristol on the first of April, two-thousand-one. My father almost missed my birth for the live broadcast of the Brazilian Grand Prix, where Jos Verstappen infamously took out the race leader Juan Pablo Montoya and crushed my dad's dreams of his favourite driver scoring well. My dad made it to my mother with fifteen minutes to spare before I caught my first glimpse of the world. Many would say this is where my story starts, but I think it goes back further to-"
"Jesus Christ, okay, okay! I'll help you make dinner if you just please shut up. I do not need another Lys-induced headache when I'm still recovering from my De Vries one." As Stoffel dramatically rolled his eyes, a smile of satisfaction crept onto my lips. If there's one thing I can do well it's annoying Stof until he finally agrees. "Once the food is cooked, I'll take my share and leave you guys to it."
***
The recipe had been engrained into my mind from a young age, which made cooking it so much more easy than any other recipe. Despite this, Stof was the one to do most of the actual cooking. He fried any of the vegetables and prepared the stock, and I had the role of slicing or dicing the vegetables so that were a suitable size to go into the pot. My preparation skills probably could've done with some refining and looked as if a child had done it with safety scissors, however it wouldn't really matter how it all looked when it was all mixed together. I'm sure Max will at the very least appreciate the effort Stof and I put into making the dinner.
Altogether, we were in the kitchen area for a little over an hour. Just as the risotto neared simmering completion, I received a text from Max that he was on his way back. He had been delayed, as expected, and apologised for it over text. I knew that he couldn't help his lateness so decided in advance to not make it a big deal. Yeah, his presence would've made my day feel less shitty, but it's not fair for him to cater his schedule to suit my happiness. My phone was also filled with other texts from people checking up on me, like Seb and Mick, which I replied to with gratitude and a positive demeanour.
Stof decided to wait for Max to return before leaving just so that I didn't have to be on my own. I didn't protest his decision, grateful for his selflessness. There were much better things he could be doing than keeping me company, like phoning his girlfriend or meeting up with mates, but he chose to annoy me.
The hotel room door locked clicked and finally swung open thirty minutes after I sent the first text to Max. Normally, the journey took ten minutes to complete. Even if there was traffic, it shouldn't have taken him any longer than twenty minutes. I had grown concerned when my texts asking where he was were either ignored or replied to with short, vague messages. I stood up from the sofa at the same time to Stoffel. As soon as my eyes fell on the Dutchman, I couldn't but help but let out a soft gasp.
The skin surrounding Max's right eye was turning a delicate shade of purple, however a lot of the colour was obscured by the red blood oozing from a cut above the eyebrow. His top lip was busted - almost definitely more than double its normal size - and was the source of the blood that dribbled down his chin. My instincts that he had gotten into some sort of fight were only encouraged by the state of his knuckles, which he held rigid by his side. The skin was grazed and already bruising, and any of the surrounding red area looked ready to bruise, too. "Stof," I turned to my teammate briefly to see he was just as shocked as I was at the state of my Fiancé, "there's a first aid kit in the bathroom cabinet, could you get me it please? Oh, and a wet flannel, too."
"I-" he hesitated, eyes fixated on Max, before snapping back, "yeah, of course." He didn't say anything else as he headed into the bathroom.
"Max, what happened?" I asked, my chest feeling tight with worry. I took a few steps closer to him and reached up to inspect the wounds. Max let out a hiss of pain, his face scrunching up whenever my delicate fingertips grazed the skin. "Are you okay?"
"The other guy looks a million times worse, trust me," he tried to joke, however it turned into a grimace. He looked to be in a lot of pain and that didn't come as a surprise considering his injuries. "There was an... altercation." At this moment, Stoffel returned with a small red bag and a small flannel. Luckily, there were English labels amongst the Hungarian first aid products or else I'd have had to open everything just to get the items I needed - anti-bacterial wipes, antiseptic cream, a small gauze pad and some medical tape. I had been trained in basic first aid before so knew how to handle it. The first thing I needed to do was wipe away any of the dried blood with the damp flannel Stof handed me.
"You don't say," I sarcastically replied, trying to keep the tone light-hearted. I hated seeing Max in pain as I tried to clean his face. What was he even doing getting into a fight? "Hey, uh Stof?" I turned my focus from Max's battered face to my concerned teammate, "can I just call you later?" It was a polite way of telling him that it would probably be best if he weren't here, which he luckily caught on to.
"Yeah, of course," he picked up the Tupperware containing his portion of the dinner and headed towards the door. "I'll text you later to check in on how things are."
I smiled gratefully as I bid him farewell before turning my attention to Max again. My expression was a little firmer than when Stoffel had been here. "What were you doing getting into altercations? You could've been seriously hurt!"
"Look," Max let out a sigh and gently placed his hand on top of my wrist, "you're probably going to be mad at me whether I tell you or not. Can we talk about it after I'm all cleaned up?"
"Did you attack someone? Did someone attack you?"
He shook his head and looked down, which I corrected by lifting his chin back up so that I could clean his would properly. "Please."
Although I didn't want to agree, I did. I needed to pick and choose my battles and this simply wasn't one of them. It's not like he was refusing to tell me, he could probably just sense that he shouldn't tell me anything bad when I'm tending to his wounds with something that could seriously sting him. I would never hurt him intentionally, but I'm not opposed to using slightly more pressure than needed if he said something I didn't like.
We sat for the fifteen minutes in an almost complete silence, the only noise coming from Max's soft whines of pain. His face wound was dressed rather quickly, however it took me a couple of attempts to get the bandaging right on his knuckles so that he could still move his hand. I pressed a gentle kiss to the uninjured side of his temple when I finished.
"Thanks, schatje." Max leaned down to press a kiss to my lips, an action that I knew would cause him pain, but I moved back to dodge the action. A frown quickly found its way onto my features, one that was out of concern rather than anger. "What smells so nice?" He queried, clearly trying to avoid my gaze and pretending as if he never tried to kiss me in the first place.
"Stof helped me make dinner for us."
"He did? That was nice of him. I'm surprised the kitchen is still in one pi-"
"Don't change the subject," I interrupted, reaching my hand out to place it on his knee. "Max, what happened?"
"I told you, I had an altercation."
This man could be so frustrating when trying to get straight answers. Why was he making this more dramatic than he needed to? I won't be mad if he got into a fight, maybe just a little disappointed that he resorted to violence, but I didn't know the whole story yet. He might not have even started it - I can't jump to conclusions even though my mind was practically begging me to. "Yes, I'm aware of that, but with who?"
Max scoffed. "Take a wild guess."
My heart dropped as a name popped into my mind - Lando. "Surely not..."
"Yeah," Max's jaw clenched momentarily and his eyes flashed with anger, "that little prick approached me in my driver room after the press conference - started trying to tell me how to run my life, that I shouldn't be rushing into marriage, that I'm not right for you, and shit like that. This was after I text you to let you know I was leaving, by the way. I didn't throw the first punch, I can promise you that, but I won't deny I threw the last one before the fight was broken up. I don't think I've seen Christian that mad in a long time and both Lando and I have to go and see the FIA first thing tomorrow."
"Wha-" I was at a loss for words. I couldn't even begin to imagine Lando getting violent, and I dreaded to think of the damage he had sustained at Max's hands. My mind was struggling to wrap itself around everything. Why would Lando approach Max in the first place? Will either of them be punished for this? Who will get the blame? "Why did he punch you?"
"I told him that you were never going to be with him the way he wanted, and that he was nothing more than a fuck-buddy to you. Apparently that hit a nerve," he added with a roll of his eyes, although it was short-lived by a grimace of pain. The parts of his black eye visible from underneath the cool flannel were getting deeper in colour as the minutes went on, but it seemed as if the swelling was slowly going down. "I know I shouldn't had antagonised him but I was angry and I wanted him to hurt for hurting you."
I let out a heavy sigh. "How badly hurt is he?"
"Uh, I think I broke his nose," he hesitantly replied, "and maybe also a lip more busted than mine and some punches to his stomach. He was with the first aiders at the paddock but it wasn't anything serious enough to make him sit this weekend out."
"Shit, Max."
"I'll take any punishments coming my way. I don't regret what I did and I'd do it again if he ever disrespects you in any way." I could tell from his anger alone that Max had no remorse for the damage he did to Lando, and a horrible part of me was glad. I hated the fact that I wished I had been able to throw a punch in, too. Karma works in mysterious ways, and it seems like his karma came in a the form of a five foot eleven Dutchman called Max Verstappen. "I can't believe I used to call him a friend."
"Something has to be going on with him," I concluded, shaking my head slightly in disbelief. "There's no way that Lando would've even considered doing the things he did a few months ago. He's never been violent before... I just don't get it."
"All I get is that he bit off more than he could chew starting a fight with me."
I pulled my bottom teeth between my lips and looked up at him carefully. I had no clue how I should be reacting right now. Did it make me a bad person if I didn't express my disappointment in his actions? It was Lando, after all. Just last week I considered him to be one of my closest and reliable friends, and now hearing about how Max injured him barely impacted me. "Please promise you won't do it again. Even if he throws the first punch-"
"-you want me to stand there and let him hit me like a pussy?"
"No," I frowned, "I want you to be the better person. The last thing you need right now is something to damage your reputation. You know how particular Red Bull is, or even the rest of the teams of the grid, minus maybe Haas, for their reputation. Teams won't want driver who get into fights."
Max huffed. "I guess you have a point."
"I do."
"And I'm really sorry for being late," he said with a sad smile, "I-I wanted to let you know but I thought you'd be mad at me."
"Lets just forget about it for now. We can talk about it when our emotions have died down a little. I've had a rough enough day as it is and I really just want something to eat."
Max took my hand and gave it a squeeze. "We can talk about it if you want to, but then you shouldn't feel forced. Seb let me know you weren't doing too good before the press conference and Damien told me you cancelled everything after lunch. I really don't blame you, schatje, but you could've come to me."
"I know," I met his concerned expression with a small smile, "and just knowing that you were there for me was enough. Now, lets just have a normal dinner like a normal couple and talk about normal things for a bit. Sound good?"
"Sounds perfect."
~***~
*not edited*
oooooh drama - we love to see it! is max telling the whole truth - is that really how things went down between them? let me know what you think!
i honestly don't know what to tell you about this uploading schedule. every weekend clearly isn't going well aha so until i get everything sorted, it'll be chapters if and when they are written. my motivation is at an all time low and things are really tough for me right now. i'll know where i want this book to go and the key story points i want to hit but i just can't bring myself to write and it sucks.
any thoughts for this book? drama you'd like to see happen? i already asked this to my discord server (you're more than welcome to join btw) but would love more responses and ideas to fill in before the big drama. i won't spoil anything, but it will shake things up for our happy couple.
i bought a weighted hula hoop and now i have bruises around my hips and waist - the things i do to look good. despite this, i highly recommend bc it is so fun and easy.
anyway, please show your love and support for FOREVERLANDO hope to see you back soon - take as long as you need. i'll always be here ready to love and support you ❤️
qotc: what is an item of clothing that you first hated when it became popular but now love?
aotc: mom jeans. why was i so quick to judge? a good pair makes your ass look great and they are so much more comfy than skinny jeans. if anyone cared enough about the brand i wear, it's bershka or urban outfitters (literally the only brands i find fit me atm i stg)