"Boss, I think you need to see this..." the assistant enters Toto's office with a serious face.
He sighs. "Do I, really? I can imagine what and who it is about from your face alone..."
The assistant shows him the tablet without a word.
~Mercedes golden boy turning to rust each night~
"George..." Toto expressed sadly as he read how his driver went from party to party, getting wasted and causing trouble. "Is he here already?"
The assistant shook the head no. "He was supposed to be at the sim earlier this morning, but he failed to get back to Aleix and now they're all flying to the GP without him. That was the other news."
"Scheiße!" he exclaimed, exasperated. "Get me my car ready, I'm going to get him to the track now."
-
Toto got to George's floor and demanded to get inside.
He opened the door with a smile and well dressed. His place looked neat.
"What in the world is wrong with you? You had Sim training today and all the team has already flown to the track!"
George raised his hands and let him in. "I know, I'm sorry, in all honesty I fell asleep, had a rough night and forgot to set the alarm..."
His boss just looked at him.
"And as for the flight, same thing. Fell asleep and couldn't get there in time. I'm truly sorry, Toto, but hey!" George continued with a smile. "I'm great now so we can head off to your jet?"
"Not coming this weekend, have work to do at Brackley," the boss spoke. "Take a commercial flight, pay it yourself and be there asap, okay?"
George nodded seriously and put a hand on his heart. "On it, boss."
Toto agreed and let him be, texting his assistant to keep a closer look on his driver.
-
George arrived at the race track in one piece and started working. Said sorry to Aleix and the team, trained and went to the driver's press conference.
"There he is!" Said Charles as he moved on the sofa. "We were worried you were lost at that club, mate!"
George chuckled. "You wish, I'm still here to kick your arses this weekend again!"
Lando snorted from the other end. "At least try and make it seem like the rest of us have a chance!"
"Sorry pal," George shrugged. "It's the rules."
They all laughed as the press conference started and went to answer some questions. Someone asked for George and they fired the question.
"Are you at least a little bit worried that your latest behaviour outside the track will corrupt your performance and make you lose everything you worked for?"
George flashed a look to his PR, watching him frown and think of a faster answer. Luckily, his friends were there.
"I don't reckon his personal life should be of any concern to you," Lando said with a smirk.
"He's been drinking since his parents allowed him to do so and he's still winning, did you investigate each of those years too?" Charles piped in.
"Yeah, I'd be more concerned that the toupee you're wearing will affect your professional life too, bro!" Max finished him, making everyone laugh and ending the conference. No need to say the journalist tried to complain but was shut down due to the personal topic he addressed in his question.
—
By Friday, George was even better. The car was in optimal conditions and his physical shape was at the top. Of course, he dominated the first two sessions of practice with every tyre and also with a full tank. There was no doubt in the air that the weekend would be a perfect one.
Saturday came, third practice done, and qualification about to finish, with plenty of time to get that pole position. Max in his Red Bull was the only one that made him sweat a little bit, but they both finished their last lap with the clock already at 00:00. Ultimately, George got the pole and Max was behind him for only a tenth.
"Good one mate, your car is flying today!" Verstappen commented as they got off the car.
"Finally!" George said as they hugged. "Thanks mate, dinner with the boys tonight?"
"Yes!" Said Charles from the back, hearing them plan stuff. "Will text the gang."
—
That Saturday night, the boys went to a fancy restaurant for dinner. Since their rookie years, they all became a nice group of friends, which made the competition harder but also friendlier and much more respectful, something the public appreciated.
"Boys, I wanted to start by thanking you for what you did on Thursday, from me and my PR too," George chuckled.
"Mate, it was just us supporting you, that's what friends do." Charles said.
"Even more when we know what it is to be like this in the spotlight..." Lando rolled his eyes and moved his head towards a person sitting on a table nearby, sneaking a photo of them.
"I want to go and ask them if they need something," Max joked.
"We should if they keep doing that..." George answered.
They chuckled and stared at their menus.
"Um, still wonder, though... are you keeping this in control, right?" Alex looked serious.
All of the others sat up straight, as if this was the reason they all showed up for dinner on a race weekend.
"Of course I am mate, I just do try to enjoy myself, I have been watching everything since I started on this sport, then my girlfriend -well, my ex- was a big relationship and it's like a part of what every other young man does was missing on my life," he explained. "So now me going out and drinking is just that."
"Just don't let it affect your career, mate." Charles looked at him. "What happened the other day was like a preview of what it can become with press. Sure, that reporter was shut down, but they can't do that everywhere else..."
Alex nodded. "True, that's your PR's job, but it can come a time where they catch you unguarded and that won't be pretty."
George smiled. "Yeah we've had a meeting and now I'm armed with loads of good comebacks. Besides, I'm the championship contender, they won't say anything bad!"
Max snorted. "Yeah, right, first time?"
Everyone laughed at that and they kept on going with a nice and expensive dinner, to fit their style.
--
"Right then," Lando stood up. "I should get going, some of us don't have it easy and we don't start in the front row."
"Ahhh you cannot make us feel bad about that, mate!" George said, sipping off his drink.
"It simply happens," Max chirped as he was standing up too. "But we totally should leave, I can imagine the press tomorrow if they see us this late..."
The rest agreed and also got up, along with George, who finished his drink in one gulp and took his jacket.
They all joked and said their goodbyes, but a guy came up to George and asked him to take some photos then invited him for one more round of drinks, which he accepted.
"There you go, Russell, whoooooooo!" one of the guys in the group yelled moments later, as they played a game of truth or dare, mostly all about him and F1, and he ended up pretty drunk.
"You keep throwing curveballs at me, I can't answer everyting!" George laughed and drank again.
"Then pick a dare you idiot!" A girl from the table laughed.
They did another round and when it was George's turn again, he picked dare as instructed and had to dance on the table to Max's theme.
That whole act got them kicked out of the restaurant. There were no photographers or paps, but there surely was the same person from earlier filming George wasted and dancing on the table, being pushed out of the building.
--
The next day, the intern walked again into Toto's office with a tablet and a serious face.
"Boss..."
He sighed. "I saw it already and don't worry, contact me with Stefano, please." He stood up and rubbed his eyes with his index and thumb. "To fix this disaster, we need more than a PR team, we need the big gun."