I feel terrible as of lately, therefore the late updates and the bad writing. I don't know if I will keep writing at all so enjoy the chapter. Cheers!
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Tightening his hold around his Red Bull, Max watched warily as they put even more makeup on Pierre's face. They were backstage, getting ready for an onstage interview with questions from the fans afterwards and Max couldn't hate it anymore. He was never a fan of all the attention they got, in his opinion, he was a normal guy, after all, doing an extraordinary job, but for him, that was no reason to tattoo his face on body parts or follow him around the world to see him race, there was a reason why they filmed the whole thing after all.
Of course, he was thankful for his fans and that they supported him without a second thought, but Max still felt uncomfortable with all the attention. He was scared of how easily crowds turned against singled out people. The young Red Bull driver didn't like the power all these fans suddenly gave him or how the media liked to use that to target people. It had happened with Ocon, yes Max had been pissed at him, but he had forgotten about it until the next race but that didn't change the fact that most of his fans still hated Esteban. That was the power of being popular like them, one wrong word about someone and even if it was just a joke, Max suddenly held the power to destroy lives and he never wanted that.
Dan once told Max he wanted people to fear how much they loved him, Max couldn't think of something worse. He hated the power his words suddenly held, that one movement of his face could cancel someone. It was just unfair. He didn't want all these people to just copy his opinion, he wanted to be a normal guy, not an object of obsession but his popularity played into Red Bull's cards. They liked to use him as a sort of figurehead, which is why Max believed that it was also so very hard for Pierre to get a foot into the door.
No matter what he said, no matter what he did people always interpreted it wrongly. Max had nothing against Pierre, no, he even liked the Frenchman, but his fans didn't and that was a problem, but one Max couldn't seem to find a solution for. If he reached out to offer Pierre his hand in friendship, people said he was forced to do so, if he's just watching, the fans say Max doesn't care about his teammate but he's also sure, should he ever actively show that he doesn't want Pierre as his teammate people would lose it as well, so the Dutchman didn't know what to do. He would love to ask Joanna about it, but that wasn't really an option right now.
"How is it?" Pierre asked Max as he finally stepped up to his teammate, causing Max to look over at him confused. His hold on the Red Bull tightened as if the pressure he was giving the can was stopping him from running away.
"Facing them, at the Red Bull Ring, I mean." The Frenchman clarified, which caused Max to face straight ahead for a moment.
"Must be different, right?" Pierre muttered to himself, thinking that he won't get an answer from Max, but the Dutchman wasn't that much of an asshole, he actually was a very decent guy and he understood Pierre's worry. He still remembered the first time he had to get up on this stage.
Daniel was by his side, joking that they were only there to see him after all and that all Max was there for was making Dan look better. Back then he couldn't stop laughing, the Aussie made sure he wasn't feeling unwell on stage, and it felt as if all these people weren't even there. It was as if he was out with his mate until Joanna stepped onto the stage. As an Austrian, she couldn't miss such an event, but that was also the first time Max actually saw the effect Joanna Lauda had on a crowd. He watched all these people cheering for her, but as soon as she lifted the microphone to her lips, they all fell into silence. Joanna held their full attention.
"It's like a religion to them sometimes, I think," Max said which caused the Frenchman to lift his gaze from his shoes, to face Max but the Dutchman was stuck in a memory from a long-lost time.
He could still remember the amazement in the fans' eyes, the way they hung on every word which left Joanna's lips. A cold shiver ran down his spine when he thought about it.
Nobody should be so mesmerizing. Nobody should be so luring but didn't feel Max the exact same way all these fans feel as he saw her for the first time. Those intelligent blue eyes, the in the sun glittering golden hair, the secretive smile. Max was so intimidated by her as a little boy, his throat run dry and he didn't even remember how to breathe for a moment already on the best way to being dizzy. Back then, he simply had a crush on her, being fourteen or fifteen, it was only a few years later as he learned what being Joanna Lauda truly meant.
"I can't really explain it. I don't like it. Dan and J love it. It depends, really." Max told Pierre honestly, who gave him a confused look for a moment. The Frenchman knew that Joanna loved the attention in her own way, as did Lewis and Sebastian, even though the German was always a little bit careful about the love and devotion of his fans.
"On what?" He wanted to know as a woman had already come over to them to say that the interview would start soon.
"I guess if you're born for the spotlight, or if you're just enduring it," Max told Pierre honestly.
The Dutch Red Bull driver might be his father's son, but he wasn't born for the spotlight, he wasn't comfortable with people yelling his name and demanding his signature on their clothes or sometimes even bodies. Max was comfortable around cars, the smell of petrol and rubber eased his mind, the feeling of sitting in a car or the feeling of excitement in his stomach when he took a corner way faster than anybody else, knowing that he would make it, but others would never be able to do so, that was what he was born for.
Not the media, not the shark tank they called paddock or the driver's market. He was here to drive and win on track.
So, it was no surprise that Max hated the PR-Day in Austria, it was a whole other level. He was up on a stage with Pierre, Alex and Daniil within moments. People were asking him questions, one after the other, about his performance, the car, the team and also personal questions he tried not to answer as good as possible.
Most of the personal questions were about Joanna, not one about Kelly, so the fans had a clear favourite which caused Max to huff after the third question about Joanna in a row. He had been asked about the pictures people made of them at the airport in France and in Austria, about the question he refused to answer if Joanna was the one he was with if it was over with Kelly, but Max had refused again to answer this question. He didn't answer any of them, just the one about being rivals and fighting each other on track.
They were all just waiting for her, asking him and Pierre questions while waiting for the Austrian, who was already late. He didn't understand why she felt the need to make people wait for her. The effect she had on people was already bad enough.
Max knew for Joanna it was easier if there was an audience to perform for, a role to play. People who would give her their approval, their awe. People who would make her feel loved and overwhelmed with all their admiration. It was addictive. Being looked up to, being cheered for. Being on top of the world. If she was out there in front of a crowd, she was the one people came to see. In these kinds of moments, she could forget all the problems she had, all the things which made her feel claustrophobic.
Joanna could forget the woman she once was, who hated crowds and was afraid of them. They still scared her sometimes because Joanna had seen it happen before. Their admiration can turn into hate so very fast. Either they hate you or they love you. There was no in-between. For them, she was still this brilliantly promising driver, who won and won and won. Letting go of that was something Joanna never wanted to do.
It was a long time ago, the last time she had let herself get carried away by the force of a crowd so much. But no matter how often she hit rock bottom in her private life, how often she had nothing left, her career and her fans were a constant high. Her lows might be terrible lows, but her highs were the reason to keep going. Standing on the top step, hearing people roar for her. If she can't have something else, she would have that.
From now on her career was the centre of her life again. She won't allow someone to destroy that for her ever again. This was her world, and once upon a time, she would have called herself the Queen, but now, now she wasn't a puny Queen. She was a god.
Thinking about Joanna Max didn't listen to Pierre answering the question until the crowd suddenly grew silent, everyone was holding a phone in their hand, which caused Max to look over to the presenter, who waved at someone behind the stage who brought them a phone as well. It was another of these stupid blog entries, Max had no interest in them until suddenly people wanted to know from him if it was true, asking if Joanna was sick which caused him to take the phone from the presenter, so he and Pierre could read the article, his heart suddenly beating faster.
Scanning over the words of the article, he wanted to laugh. At first, he had thought it was about a possible drug addiction, but this was just a joke. Nothing to worry about. Joanna was perfectly fine, he had seen her a few days ago. They've talked, they've shared a flight and went to the baby scan together. She would have told him then, they had enough time, just the two of them, she would have said something. Max knew that Joanna would have told him, no question.
The Dutchman wanted to tell the world that it was bullshit, but as he turned over and saw Pierre's panicked look, he thought again. Maybe it wasn't a sick joke? The blogger, whoever the cursed woman was, had never before told a lie and the source could have been a real one as well. But he couldn't say so. He couldn't allow the world to see the panic in his eyes or how fast his heart suddenly knocked against his ribcage, clawing at its walls to tear him open and find the woman he loved.
Death and sickness weren't concepts he had ever been afraid of. It was never on his mind before, not truly. It couldn't be, once he was in the car there was no space for fear. He was the one knocking on death's door only to run away right after, that was his job. He had watched Joanna do the same thing so many times, bravely standing in front of death's door, waiting just a moment longer than the others dared before running away as well. It was their kind of living, but it never occurred to him that one day death could catch her.
Thinking about it now, Max knew it was foolish but for him, in his mind, Joanna was immortal even though he never actively thought so, it just happened along the way, like a child believed that their parents would live forever, or their siblings. Logically, he had always known that they didn't have all the time in the world but being shown so brutally that time wasn't on their side was terribly disturbing for him.
Closing his finger of the hand which wasn't holding onto the phone tightly, Max pressed his nails into the skin of his palm. A desperate try for the pain it caused to stop his body from reacting to what he had just read. Short waves of pain always used to help him control his impulses, but the need to see Joanna, to find her and make sure she's alright wasn't subsiding. The memory of hearing the heartbeat of their son was so prominent in his mind right now. Cuts were marking his palm as if an animal had scratched him, blood under his fingernails as he uncurled his fingers again.
"Max," Pierre whispered next to him, the Frenchman's eyes still on the phone, fear written all over his face, which caused the Dutchman to swallow. The Red Bull driver was very well aware that his ex was one of the reasons Pierre Gasly managed to secure the Red Bull seat for himself and she was also the one to give Charles Leclerc a little push in the right direction before she left Ferrari, but Max wasn't sure how deep these relationships actually were. Now he doubted that they were only business-related.
Swallowing slowly, Max let his gaze wander over the crowd. All these people were stunned into silence. A few people cried quietly, holding each other as if Joanna just died, but she wasn't dead, she was somewhere in the Mercedes facility, already too late on her way here with no idea what was going on.
At that moment, he realised that Joanna couldn't come here. Not during this bizarre situation. Nodding once to himself, he gave the phone and the microphone back he was holding before walking off the stage without a word. People were running after him, calling his name, Vicky tried to calm him down, but all he wanted was to see Joanna. He needed her to tell him that nothing was at miss with her and that this stupid blogger just bullshitted them all. That's what he needed. He needed to see that the mother of his son was very alright.
Max had only one place on his mind, and it was the Mercedes facility. Should it really be the truth, so why didn't she tell him as he asked her about her health in France or as they were together meeting their baby. He had a bad feeling about things back there in France as she spoke about her mother and now, he knew why. Joanna wasn't only hiding their son from him back then but some more.
His throat was dry, his legs were caring him fastly to his destination. He felt dizzy with fear. She couldn't die, she was Joanna Lauda. He hated himself for that thought. Her name didn't protect her from anything. People just pretended that it did. That a name meant something. That her name meant something other than pain.
The moment he first kissed her, Max knew that Joanna would be the woman he would marry one day, the woman who would give birth to all of his children and the woman he wanted to grow old with. For better or worse, she was his great love story, and he wouldn't allow anyone to take that from him, not even death.
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Charles realised that something was wrong the moment he stepped out of his driver's room and into the main part of the Ferrari facility. People were talking quietly with each other, with sad or worried expressions, showing each other things on their phones.
Sebastian was standing in a corner talking to Britta in German about something, no smile on his lips, no joke ready to be told which felt Charles's belly with threat. He knew that something was definitely wrong, the only question was what had happened.
Looking around confused, it couldn't be about Sebastian, the German was here, and Ferrari wouldn't know if something had happened to his family before him. His mind wandered to Pia. Sebastian would know about her, as well as Ferrari. Maybe that was it?
He was deeply buried in his own mind that he didn't even notice as Mattia approached him. The Italian gave him a soft but sad smile as he put his hand down on his shoulder.
"Charles." He said softly as if he was speaking to a child.
"Who died?" He didn't mean for it to sound so harsh, but he was no child. He had seen this expression so often already. On his mother's face as they learned about his father's fate, on Daniel's face after Jules died, as he finally acknowledged that he was truly gone, on Joanna's face as she came back after her father died. He knew that look.
People change over the years, but this look never did. It was always the same look which haunted Charles.
"Why don't you take a seat?" Mattia muttered gently with the intention to help, but Charles shook his head. He didn't want anyone to baby him. He knew how these kinds of conversations were held, sitting down wouldn't change anything, not the shallow breaths he drew into his lung or the panic in his belly. Nothing would change the fatality of the news.
Nothing changed, Charles was already mentally going through his wardrobe, looking for his black suit. Daniel had told him years after Jules died that Joanna had said to Pia to buy a black dress on the day of Jules's crash. The Austrian already knew what none of them was ready to see just yet. For a moment, he was angry at her, but in the end, he was thankful that she always saw the reality of things, only to help them once they saw it as well.
His shoes were standing on the floor of his cupboard in the hall, he had seen them as he packed his belongings to come to Austria. A few days ago, he had no idea that he would need them again. He had hoped it wouldn't be the case for the longest time.
The watch which had belonged to his father was resting on his nightstand. Jules's cross was right next to it, Daniel had been kind enough to let Charles have it. Saying that he didn't believe in God anymore anyways. He would need all of that. Charles was sure. No matter what it was Mattia was too scared to tell him, Charles would go to a funeral again. That's what this was about. Even though nobody told him.
"Just say it." The Monegasque demanded his voice bitterly which caused him to bite his lips right away. One must think that he was strong enough to endure such news after all the practise he got over the years. Not everybody lost his father before being twenty, after all, Charles thought bitterly. He was a master at learning about bad news, a master in losing people, who meant something to him. His father, Jules, Anthoine ... who else was there to take from him?
Mattia was about to bullshit him again, Charles saw it in the way he moved, not yet ready to actually say a word, as Sebastian stepped over to them, a troubled expression on his face, but it wasn't about Charles. It was no pity, it was hurt. Sebastian suffered just as much under the news as he would, if not more.
"It's Joanna." Sebastian finally said.
Seemed like nobody tried to shelter him from knowing these things after all, but Charles didn't think about his suit any longer, or his shoes, his attention was fully on the German, looking at him as if he had spoken another language. It couldn't be about Joanna. Charles knew that Joanna was healthy and young. She was living her best life, well almost, Charles had seen that things were troubling her since the beginning of this year, but he always thought it was about her father's death for which he offered her his support. Always, at any given time and at any given place.
"What's with her!" Charles demanded to know, which caused Sebastian to reach for his phone before handing it to Charles, allowing him to read the blog entry from that cursed blogger.
"I called a friend of mine at Paul Ricard's. I found her source. She isn't lying, she has this source." Sebastian said after Charles had read each and every word at least twice, not believing the text was written in a language he understood. If someone would ask him now, he couldn't repeat even one sentence he had read but he knew the meaning of these words. She would leave them sooner than later. Joanna was cursed, just like his father, Anthoine and Jules. Everyone who ever showed him kindness or helped him.
They were all cursed. This was his fault. Joanna's death would come as a result of her showing him kindness and believing in him. He will never forgive himself.
"I ... we need to see her, Seb, please." Charles pleaded, close to tears, his stomach was screaming at him in agony and fear, his limps didn't feel like his own.
The Monegasque couldn't understand how Sebastian was able to be so calm. Joanna Lauda was one of his closest friends, everyone knew that. Their shared podiums were always full of hugs and happy smiles. They went against Mark Webber, Fernando Alonso and Jenson Button together just for the fun of it. Rosberg and Hamilton were no match for them in their prime, their golden years. These two German-speaking world champions were associated with each other like no driver pair before. Maybe just Daniel and Max.
"We will go and see her," Sebastian promised. "But storming over won't help. I know enough people that will do that." The older Ferrari driver added and theoretically, Charles knew he was right, but he couldn't do it. He couldn't stay here and wait, not when Joanna's time was so little, and he wanted to spend every moment with her, just as he had promised Jules that he would take care of Daniel and Joanna.
"I can't..." Charles started, already on the way to leave the Ferrari facility. It wasn't too late yet, but he couldn't waste any more time, he couldn't give the universe the chance to take her from them before he had told her how thankful he is for her, for giving him this Ferrari contract all these years ago, for watching out for Pierre, for holding her hand over them. He needed her to know all these things. She couldn't leave them before he told her.
"Charles." He heard his name, before a stern hand on his upper arm stopped him in the middle of the paddock. Sebastian, he had followed him.
"I'm coming with you. We will go and see her, but you need to calm down a bit, okay?" He wondered, which caused the Monegasque to swallow slowly, before nodding.
Sebastian was right. They couldn't just storm into the Mercedes facility, looking panicked and demanding to see one of their drivers, they needed to calm down before going there and Charles could do that, for Joanna, he could. She deserved them to listen to her, she was the one sick after all. Running to her only to cry on her shoulder would be foolish and wrong. They all needed to be there for Joanna for once, not the other way round. The Austrian needed them, and Charles was ready to be there for her.
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Wating for her tea in the Mercedes facility, Joanna had leaned her underarms on the counter and rested her head on top of them. She wasn't in the mood to talk at the moment, and this was the best way to let people know about that. People expected her on the stage the Red Bull ring officials have built for the opening Q and A in about ten minutes and she needed to look and be presentable by then, but the media, the fans or the two Red Bull drivers and Toro Rosso drivers she would have to join on the stage weren't on her mind at all. Joanna was still mentally in Vienna in that office and everything was turning.
How was she supposed to do her job knowing that there was ... knowing what she knew and even though she tried to ignore it as well as she could because it was fucking scaring her, she couldn't stop thinking about it. But her thoughts weren't rational. It was awful, it was torture, but there was no getting out of it, not without telling someone about it and that wasn't a fucking option.
Closing her eyes tighter, Joanna tried to breathe through her own bitterness, because that's all she could feel. Bitterness, that the universe was showing her again what she could possibly have only to snatch it away at the last moment. Her mother didn't want her. She didn't even so much as look at Joanna, but she left her with a horrible disease and even though the doctor had tried to cheer her up, Joanna had googled and had read blogs from people who had the sickness.
Five years, that was all she would have once the sickness broke out, she would end it before becoming a burden to Kiwi and Andrew, who most likely would take care of her. She didn't want that. Joanna wanted to die with dignity, as little as she had left.
"If you don't feel up to media duty, I will make an excuse for you," Kiwi muttered next to Joanna, who still concentrated on breathing. The Aussie had watched her for a while, standing next to her and hoping Joanna would pull through whatever was torturing her right now. The older woman had gently moved Joanna's hair to her left side, so she could bend down a little to see Joanna's face at least from the side, but she had buried her face tightly into her arms.
"Darling, I can't do anything to help you if you don't tell me what's wrong. If this is about the articles about you and Max, I handled them." Kiwi spoke tenderly close to the Austrian's ear as James came over to them as well. It was Andrew, who had moved to get the race engineer. The men had shared a worried look before James moved to Joanna's other side and rested his hands on the Austrian's shaking shoulders.
"You don't have to do anything. How about you go and lay down and Andrew gives you a massage?" The Brit offered, but Joanna still didn't move.
She was fine. She was alright. This scene she caused right now was so unnecessary. Needless, pointless and embarrassing. Her team thought something terrible had happened but that wasn't the case. Joanna was just being a drama queen. It was so humiliating. She will never be able to look these people in the eye again. They were here for her, ready to listen, care and protect her, but there wasn't something to talk about, was it? Joanna was perfectly fine.
Her father always used to say that as long as you have two arms, two legs and a head, there was no reason to complain. Joanna hated being pathetic, she just couldn't take it. Being herself, the only word which circled in her head was "weak" repeatedly. Cruel voices spat it at her over and over again. "Weak" "Useless" "Not enough".
There was no reason to get emotional, as nothing had happened. Nothing happened she would ever acknowledge. Overnight her life turned upside down, but Joanna wouldn't acknowledge it. Nothing happened. It was nothing which came at her out of nowhere. From one moment to the next, but it was nothing. It couldn't be something. Something was bad, but nothing, nothing was all she could allow herself right now.
She was supposed to be grateful for so many things but at that moment, she couldn't think of a single one. All she could think of were the people she was letting down, the fans who now hated her, the other drivers, who looked at her with disgust and not with respect, her own team, who thought of her as pathetic... Suddenly it all stopped.
It was a sound. The sound of a paper cup softly hitting the counter. Her tea was ready. Blinking a few times, Joanna lifted her head and stared at the cup. Her tea was ready.
"Do you want to go and lay down?" Kiwi asked her carefully while looping her arm under Joanna's but the Austrian didn't react, all she did was reach out and take her cup of tea. Black tea with a little bit of sugar and milk. The way she liked it. Even though she would have liked way more sugar, Andrew would have never allowed it.
"We shouldn't let them wait," Joanna muttered, but all three were fast to speak up and tell her with different words that she was more important than a stupid PR event, but Joanna simply shook her head and started to walk on unsure feed towards the main door. Kiwi was holding onto her as tightly as she could, while James and Andrew watched with worried expressions.
They were about to leave the facility as Daniel Ricciardo stormed inside, looking absolutely devasted. His eyes wide as he searched for someone, the usual smile lost. Some people from the team were about to tell him that he couldn't simply storm in here like this, but as soon as his eyes found Joanna, he pushed past them and stormed towards her, an article opened on his phone, which he was holding up as if to accuse Joanna of something, who looked up at him with a lost expression.
"Is it true?" The Aussie wanted to know, all his face showed was utter and completely terrified fear. His heart was beating fastly, his palms were sweaty. This couldn't happen. Not Joanna, not her as well. He had already lost everyone else he loved. He couldn't lose her as well.
"Is what true, Dan?" Joanna asked him, her voice tired and weak which caused tears to spring to the Aussie's eyes. His breath shallow, he was panicking on Joanna's behalf.
"Is it true? What they write. Are you dying?" Daniel added, the last words barely leaving his throat, but Joanna heard him, nevertheless, so did the rest of her team. Kiwi was fast to reach out to get the phone from Daniel to read the article while Andrew laughed in disbelief. He was the one who took care of Joanna's health. She was perfectly fine, he knew that. He checked on her multiple times a week.
"Daniel." She muttered, her voice flat, but all Daniel could think about was how he didn't notice that she was sick. He knew she wasn't well, but he never thought about something serious, not like this.
Entering the facility, Max sidestepped some Mercedes staff right away, only to find Daniel already standing there looking at Joanna with tears in her eyes.
"I asked if it's true." The Aussie repeated as Max stepped up to them, his hand resting on Daniel's shoulder for a moment which caused his ex-teammate to look up at him.
"What is going on?" Max wanted to know, not showing how panicked he actually was, while other people entered the Mercedes facility as well. Pierre, who must have followed Max arrived just as Charles Leclerc stepped into the facility as well. Lewis came from a room upstairs, calling the Austrian's name. While Sebastian came moments after Pierre and Charles.
Joanna didn't seem to know what was going on, her breaths shallow and fast at the same time. Her expression confused, while the people from her team were standing around in disbelief reading that damn article as well.
"Dan. I don't even know what this is about." Joanna muttered sounding so weak and out of breath even though she hadn't moved in minutes, which caused Max to step closer to her, while Sebastian and Lewis run over as well, Pierre and Charles in the second row as Joanna's phone started to ring.
Pulling it from her pocket, the caller-ID said Jenson Button, before the call ended and moments later it said, Mark Webber.
"You promised me that it won't ever happen. You said I can die before you, so I never have to visit you and Jules there. You promised, Jo." Daniel said reproachful which caused Joanna to look at him as devastated as Max felt, but the Aussie wasn't the only one, who demanded her attention.
Sebastian tried to calm her down, his hand steadily on Joanna's shoulder even though she pulled away every few moments, his voice neutral and calming but the panic wasn't lost on Joanna. He was just as scared as all the others, while Lewis demanded to know if that was true. Talking over Sebastian attempts to calm her and Daniel's accusations.
Joanna looked around between all of them, her gaze worried, her movements slower than usual. Her chest was moving sharply with every breath she tried to pull into her lungs, the whole situation closing in on her. She hadn't been well all day, she was sleep diverted and claustrophobic. Looking around Joanna realised that this was her worst nightmare. Trying to call out to them desperately but not one word was leaving her lips. Unable to communicate with them, to tell them what was going on or to ask what got them all into such a state of worry and anger.
Suddenly Andrew called over all of them to take a step back and make more room for Joanna, but the Austrian hollows breath and her nervous looking around have already resulted in her system shutting off. Max was close enough to catch the Austrian in seconds before she could fall to the floor. Properly picking her up bridal style, Max rested his head against hers for a moment before asking Andrew were to take Joanna, so she could breathe for a moment.
"Upstairs," Kiwi said before Andrew could react. "Her driver's room." The Aussie added which caused Max to nod in thanks. He should have stopped it before it all got out of hand like this. Being the only one who didn't demand Joanna's attention wasn't enough, he should have been the one to touch her hand, to tell her that they would figure it out.