ELYSE's POV
Ever since I won the championship, I thought I'd finally get to relax and enjoy my time during the winter break. But the truth is, I thought wrong.
If you asked me a few months ago what my main goal of the year was, I would've told you to win the championship. But now that I have, I can't help but ask myself the same question over and over: was one championship worth all that I've lost just to get it?
Instead of feeling accomplished, there was this never-ending hole engraved in my now soulless heart. Then I came to a realization, winning without having people to celebrate with was the equivalent of losing.
Sure, I had my aunt, Lewis, Carlos and a bunch of other drivers to celebrate with. And while I couldn't have my mother with me to celebrate with, my heart yearned to for one specific person.
A person I was most definitely sure hated me with every fibre of his body after everything that happened...
I don't know what came over me, but after Abu Dhabi, I took the first flight to Brazil. Alone.
I stayed in the massive beach house we all stayed at during the summer. I could just recall all events that happened while walking around the house. And an uncomfortable pit always settled in my stomach.
While being in a huge house that once used to be filled with people, alone, sometimes felt lonely. My soul was somewhat at ease. Like I was somehow reunited with my mother, spiritually of course.
But still, that uncomfortable pit in my stomach was always there. And it was slowly driving me insane.
So, I decided to take my aunt and Ashley's advice and go to therapy. For multiple reasons. To deal with my grief properly, manage my anger, learn forgiveness, stop self-criticism and more. The only reason I listened to them was because I wanted to better myself... and maybe so that one specific person would notice I'm getting better and be proud of me...
And I'll have to admit, opening up certainly was a hard task for me to do. Talking about my past, my thoughts and feelings, it was all so new to me, foreign. Something I rarely ever did except when I was with my mother.
But my therapist, Violet, was so patient with me. Even when I was in a bad mood and practically refused to say anything. But as time went on and the more sessions I had, I slowly started opening up and despite hating the feeling of vulnerability, the weight on my shoulders was decreasing ever so slightly.
I told her all about my father, my mother, the pressure of F1, Mercedes', my friends, my addiction, Max...
However I'll have to be honest, I always tried to avoid talking about Max. Talking about my past wasn't as hard since the wounds weren't as fresh as the one from Max.
During this period, I started to smile at people more often, go to local karting tracks and help little kids fix their karts, and more little things I usually wouldn't do.
Anyhow, after nearly a whole month of going to therapy almost everyday, Netflix showed their interest of making a documentary on me. Initially, I was going to decline but changed my mind when I showed Violet and she talked me into doing it, truthfully.
So, I did. And they even brought my friends, family and team principals along.
But when I was being asked questions about Max... it was like my heart shattered all over again when I found out they asked him to come on and he refused.
"What about Max Verstappen? During the second-half of the season, the two of you seemed relatively close yet you haven't mentioned him once– and not to mention the fact that he declined being a part of this documentary despite being a huge part of your history and career as your lifelong rival."
A surprised and hurt expression was written all over her face, but as if she realized that, she put a smile on her face and switched subjects.
So many little things like that happened ever since he walked out of my room that one day after I stupidly messed everything up.
And now, I would be leaving Brazil after spending a month or so alone to deal with my problems and return with a less heavy heart, to head to Milton Keynes– my new home.
Truth be told, I wasn't one inch ready to face Max. But I was going to keep Violet's advice at heart, and keep my expectations low and be neutral for starters.
So, here I was, at the Redbull Racing Headquarters. And I had to say, it was quite different than the Mercedes' Headquarters but I liked it.
I felt like a child going to my first day of school. Not knowing where the hell to go, I was startled by someone tapping on my shoulders. I turned around to see who it was, my heart beating faster and louder than usual as I anticipated who it was...
My heart immediately slowed down when I found it was Franz Tost who tapped on my shoulder and not a certain Verstappen.
"Welcome to Redbull, Garcia." He offered me a smile. "Blue looks good on you." He pointed at my Redbull Racing shirt.
I smiled back at him, "Thank you, I'm happy to be here."
"You seem lost, you're here to meet with Christian first, right?" He asked and I nodded in response. Without another word spoken, he guided me to Christian Horner's office.
Once I was right in front of his door, I put my hand up, ready to knock before I heard laughter coming from inside. My heart skipped a beat when I realized that one of the laughs belonged to Max.
"C'mon, there's nothing to be scared of." Franz's voice brought me back to reality and in a split second, he decided to take matters into his own hands and abruptly opened the door for me.
Silence replaced the previous fits of laughter and Max and I's eyes grabbed ahold of each other from opposite sides of the room. We couldn't rip our eyes apart from each other until Christian greeted my with a hug and out of the corner of my eye I could see Max lowering his head and staring at the ground.
"Ah, Elyse, I'm thrilled you could make it." Christian expressed his gratitude. "How was your Christmas? I heard you were in Brazil, was Lewis or Carlos with you?"
I maintained a kind smile on my face, "Uh, no. I– uh, actually spent it alone."
I could see Max lift his head for a moment when the words 'alone' left my mouth but he quickly looked back on the ground.
"Why? Christmas is all about spending time with your loved ones."
"Yeah, I know. But, I kind of spent this Christmas focusing on myself." Honesty, honesty, honesty. It killed me to be honest, the words 'focusing on myself' felt pathetic coming out of mouth and I wanted to die right there and then. But it was as if I had Violet's words repeating in my head like a radio or else I would've run out the place a long time ago.
"Well, that's great news. I'm proud of you." Christian patted me on the back, "And congrats on your documentary, it's truly amazing and the world finally knows the real you."
"Thank you."
"Now," Christian closed the door, and motioned for me to have a seat in the chair right beside Max's. I reluctantly sat down and I could see him take a deep breath and sigh before slightly moving his body to the other side of the chair, far away from me.
He probably just got tired of sitting that way, it has nothing to do with you. I kept telling myself.
"I understand there is a lot tension between the two of you and if we want to succeed next season, it has to diffuse." Christian pointed out. "So, can each one of you say what is bothering them from the other person so we could move on?"
"Nothing is bothering me." Max was quick to say.
Then both of them turned to me, waiting for my answer.
Honesty, honesty, honesty.
I took a deep breath, "There is stuff that is bothering me, actually."
Christian pushed me to continue while an agitated look was plastered across Max's face.
"First of all, I don't like that look on your face." I pointed at his face and watches as Horner shot him a disapproving look. "And I don't like the way you've been treating me ever since Abu Dhabi."
He subtly rolled his eyes, "How have I been treating you since Abu Dhabi?"
At this point, we were staring intensely at each other. As if we were in a staring contest and we're waiting for the other person to mess up.
"You know how, Max."
Upon hearing his name coming from my voice, his eyes slightly softened almost making me believe I still had an affect on him. Or that maybe, just maybe, he still cared and was just acting tough as a display.
"Don't you think I have a reason behind my actions?" The words left his mouth leaving a pang in my heart. He was talking about the night before the last race.
"Now, now, Max, if you're going to be like this with Elyse because you lost and she won the championship then we're seriously going to have some problems here." Christian butted in.
His eyes finally left mine to look at Christian with a smile I knew all too well.
"You're right, I shouldn't be salty." He stood up, "I'm sorry, Elyse. Welcome to the team."
It was all fake. Everything he's saying and apologizing for is fake. He's just doing this to look good in front of Christian.
If it wasn't fake he wouldn't have said my full name..
And with that, he left the room.
"I'm sorry about him, I guess he still hasn't gotten over last season." Christian apologized on his behalf.
I chuckled at the irony, "Yeah, I guess."
"Well, since you're already here, are you up for some sim practice?" He asked. "I assure you, it's better than what they have at Mercedes but you'll have to be the judge of that."
I laughed quietly, "Sure, why not?"
"Maybe you and Max can try to open a new page in the meanwhile. I'd hate for you two to give each other a hard time."
I faltered in my steps, "Max is in the simulator right now?"
Christian nodded and before I could make a run for it, I was being pulled into the simulator room.
Max was just about to finish his lap, until I stepped into the room and made him crash in the last corner making huff in irritation.
Before I could overthink his actions, I was surprised to find Thomas greeting me.
"Oh my God, Thomas!" I was quick to hug him and I could almost feel his eyes on us. "When I asked Christian to bring you with me, I had little to no hope it would actually happen!"
He laughed, "I don't think I could be anyone else's engineer. I mean, what's better than hearing you yell and violently curse in Spanish over the radio?"
A rather loud cough came from Max, "Some people are trying to focus here."
I couldn't help myself and rolled my eyes out of instinct. Instead of replying, I took a seat in the simulator right next to Max and put on gloves and shoes and wasted no time in attempting flyer laps. With Thomas's input here and there, each lap I was setting even better lap times than the lap before. All which were better than Max's times.
After a while of me beating him, he suddenly got up.
"Where are you going?" GP, Max's engineer, asked him.
"I remembered I had something to do." Max told him while he ripped his gloves off.
"Can't it wait?" GP asked.
"Nope. See you tomorrow." Then, he left.
For the rest of my time at the factory, my mind kept wandering back to his actions. It wasn't long before I called it quits in the simulator and was on my way back home.
During the car ride home, the first thing I did was call Violet and tell her everything that happened today.
"Well, first of all, I'm very proud of your improvement and keeping my advice close to your heart." She started off, "And while I think what Max is currently doing is very shady... and quite rude if I have to say so myself– but then again, I believe he's hurt."
I scoffed in disbelief, "Are you really defending him, Vee?"
"I'm not!" She was quick to answer, "I'm just saying this from a therapist point of view. If he is like how you say he is, with all the trauma he's endured, I think it's quite natural for him to act like this when he's upset from something or someone."
"So are you saying I hurt him?"
"Kind of." Before I could get a word out, she carried on, "In one way or another, you chose a sport, a championship, over him. I mean, put yourself in his place– wouldn't you feel hurt too?"
I went silent.
She was right.
"And how can I... reverse that?"
"Frankly, you can't." She replied, "At least not now, maybe you can start trying to amend things with him. Show him that you care, that you... well, love him. But don't stop when he pushes you away because he probably will."
"I don't..." I trailed on.
"Love him?" She completed my sentence. "No, you most certainly do, dear."
I didn't even try to argue with her. In most cases, I would. But denying the way I feel about him is useless anyways.
I sighed, "Whatever, I'm going to go to a bar and get drunk tonight. Today was too much."
"Alright, but please don't go too overboard. And if anything happens text me and I'll send help right away."
"Okay, mother. Love you."
"Love you too."
I had to admit, Milton Keynes wasn't a fun place. Quite depressing and boring, if I had to be honest. And it was like everyone knew everyone here because of how small of a place it was.
Once I got home, I gave Lewis and Carlos a brief update on my first day at Redbull– obviously leaving out the part where it involves Max– while getting ready.
I decided to wear something outside of my comfort zone; a white minidress with an open back paired with some gold jewelry really went well together. To finalize, I put my hair in a slicked back braid and I was ready to go.
I ubered to the nearest club to me and bumped into a few fans as I was about to enter the club.
The club wasn't filled with that many people. Actually, it was rather emptier than the usual club– but maybe that's how it's like here.
I took a seat by the bar and ordered a couple drinks. I started to realize how bored and lonely I was all alone in a place I barely knew anyone. It wasn't like in London with Lewis where I had him with me everywhere.
While I sulked and swirled my drink around, somebody took a seat next to me.
"El?" A familiar Portuguese accent rung in my ear.
I turned to see who it was, "Ney!"
He pulled me into a brief side hug, "Long time no see, huh?"
"Yeah, I'll always wonder how we end up seeing each other in places like this." I joked, "Actually, what are you doing here in Milton Keynes?"
He shrugged nonchalantly, "I'm on my way to Liverpool, we're going to crash here for the night."
"Ah, makes sense."
"And how have you been ever since last time I saw you? Congrats on winning the championship, by the way." He asked and a warm, fuzzy feeling spread through my chest.
I can't remember the last time someone has genuinely asked me that, apart from my therapist, and it meant a whole lot to me. And while the person I was a few months ago would've smiled and switched the topic, the person I am now wants to be honest.
"Thank you," I thanked him with a sincere smile, "But I've been honestly doing so much better. I even started going to therapy."
"Oh really?" A proud expression on Neymar's face healed my inner-child. "That's great news, El! I'm so proud of you for not giving up, I knew you could do it."
I chuckled, "If I'm going to be honest, at some point I really thought I was too far gone and at a point of no return."
"Well, what made you want to change that?" He asked.
"Probably how miserable I was." I replied with a slight chuckle to not make things as depressing, "I hated how unhappy I was and how I kept hurting the people around me because of the way I coped with my grief and sadness."
"Let me guess, by people you mean Max?"
I think my heart skipped a beat when he said that, "Uh, what makes you think that?"
"Hmm, let me think." He pretended to think, "After winning the championship, he didn't congratulate you once – at least on camera – and, understandably, left the podium celebration the first chance he got. Now, you're in Milton Keyes, a place where you know nobody, all alone– looking sad while drinking some tequila at a random bar."
"I don't look sa—" I shut myself up when he raised his brows and looked at me with an 'are you kidding' look.
"Fine, maybe I am a little sad. But, I'm here to cheer myself up." I continued to defend myself.
"Well, let's cheer you up together and get out of this shitty bar, what do you say?" He put his hand out for me as a proposal.
I quickly downed the remainder of my drink and gladly took his hand with a smile as he escorted us out of the bar. Maybe it was due to the alcohol, but for some reason I couldn't walk in a straight line.
When I almost bumped into some old guy, I went into hysterics.
"Hey, I remember you having a higher alcohol tolerance!" Neymar laughed at me.
"I don't even remember the last time I had a drink." I sighed as I started walking backwards to look at Neymar while we talked on the way out of the club.
It looked like he was about to tell me to watch out but he was too late since my back roughly slammed into someone's chest.
"Oh shit, I'm so sor–" I apologized as I turned around but quickly interrupted myself when I saw who I bumped into.
Max.
It was as if I suddenly lost all ability to speak upon laying my eyes on him. Only a squeaky 'oh' escaped me and for a moment, all I could do was just stare at him, silently admiring him as well.
"We're very sorry, Max." Neymar's voice was like a knife cutting through the tension between Max and I. "It was good to see you again, Max."
"Mhm, you too." Max shot Neymar a somewhat polite smile, but I knew it was as fake as Mercedes' 'safe and inclusive work environment'.
He didn't spare us any more of his attention, passing by us like we didn't exist, deepening the crack into my heart.
I hope Neymar didn't notice how I inhaled some more air just to get another whiff of his signature perfume, or how I kept looking back at the club expecting some fairytale moment to happen.
The few minutes after that encounter, everything felt very hazy– and I couldn't focus for the life of me.
Even Ney's voice sounded miles away, "Huh?"
"I'm saying you've been off ever since we bumped into Max, are you okay?" He asked.
"Yeah... well, no. But, I'll live." I shrugged.
"Would buying a shit load of alcohol and doing whatever you want cheer you up?" He asked and a grin found its way onto my face.
"You know me so well, Ney."
And so, we ended up buying a ton of alcohol, went back to my apartment to binge watch some movies– which was hilarious while being drunk. Eventually, Neymar passed out beside me and the movie we were watching wasn't as funny anymore.
While Ney was asleep beside me and I was mindlessly scrolling through my phone, I found myself rereading Max and I's old chats.
My stomach churning and my heart twisting at the reminder of what we used to be. I wanted to be held by arms that don't even want to hold me.
I don't know what had gotten into me, but my drunk self suddenly had the urge to text him and while the logical side of my brain kept telling me not to, my heart didn't bother listening to my brain.
me
i dont wnat yuo to hate me anymroe
sent 3:04 am
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hello hellooo, i hope u liked this chapterrr!
this was sort of a filler and the good stuff will be coming in the following chapters :))
though i am kind of struggling on how to go on with this story and idk if u guys would be interested in me writing elyse's journey at redbull with max, etc– so if u would like that pls tell me bc i honestly dont know LOL