The Fight • Max Verstappen•

•onehundred-seventyfour•

MAX

Surprisingly Pierre Gasly was not the last person I wanted to see standing in my doorway, although I cannot say I was thrilled to have him in my presence. He wasted no time with pleasantries and burst through my front door.

"Do you understand what you have caused, or are you really that naive?" The Frenchman spat as I stood there in with wide eyes and gestured for him to come in. "I really thought you loved her or did you just not want her to be happy with someone else?"

I scoffed and rolled my eyes at the remarks that had left the mouth of the incredibly wound up Pierre. As he walked past me and made his way to the kitchen a trail of floral perfume followed through and lingered almost like a ghost in the hallway.

I closed my front door and made my way into the kitchen where he was standing with his arms crossed over his puffed-out chest. Pierre tapped his foot impatiently awaiting me to reply to his outbursts, although he soon started speaking again in a less than friendly tone.

"I always knew that Max Verstappen came first and you didn't give a care in the world to who you tore down to get where you wanted to go, but Scarlet?" Pierre jibbed, "You've wrecked her and what's worst is you don't seem to see that?"

Pierre came here for a fight, and I knew from Lando that he had been spending the last few days with Scarlet so it was no surprise that he was wound up.

I shook my head and a chuckle escaped my lips which probably didn't help to diffuse the level of anger currently being pent up in my kitchen. Pierre dropped his arms from across his chest and brought his hands to rub his temples.

"You think this is funny?" He enraged, "That photo you posted caused your fans to jump at her, and not to mention all of the F1 gossip pages that have been waiting for this relationship to implode."

Posting the photos was not my brightest of moves which is why I quickly deleted them once I had realised what I had done. They were only on Instagram for maximum of twenty minutes, I never expected them to cause so much damage.

Another chuckle came out, "I think it's funny that you're here fighting her battles as if she didn't choose me over you." I quipped with a smirk.

I knew that Pierre still had feelings for Scarlet; you could see it all over his face whenever they were in the same room. After Nico Rosberg's drinking evening in Singapore, and then the F1 Sky Sports interview his love came to life.

He looked at me. "I wanted her to be happy and I will always want that for her," Pierre said, "Of course, I wanted nothing more than for her to pick me, but she didn't, she picked you."

Pierre's eyes dropped to the floor, but hearing the words of defeat come out of his mouth was all I needed to hear. He was right, Scarlet did pick me. She picked a love that she didn't even know would work over the man she was falling in love within the present time.

"Her picking you hurt, but it doesn't compare to the pain of watching you destroy her." He seethed as he prodded my chest with his finger. "She is such a goddamn good person that she even made you seem like not a total asshole." Pierre pointed out.

The Frenchman was right about one thing; Scarlet is a good person, but I would be blind if I trusted anyone because they were nice. Often the nicest people are the ones who want to manipulate you the most.

"Well, you should be happy then." I scoffed and walked over to the fridge and pulled out the bottle of white wine I had been drinking. "Do you want a glass?" I asked Pierre who shook his head. More for me then.

Pierre cocked his head, "What about any of this would make me happy?" He questioned with an eyebrow raised. I didn't even bother pouring the wine into a glass and instead necked a sip directly from the bottle.

I leant against the fridge, "You can finally have her back, after all, I did steal her from you." I winked and took another sip. "You're welcome."

This particular Pinot seemed to be past its best but that wouldn't stop me from drinking it, but the quicker I finished it the sooner I could open a different bottle.

"You're a grade-A douchebag, you know that Verstappen?" He snapped. "Every time I think your attitude couldn't possibly surprise me, you say something that reminds me that there truly are no limits to how low you can sink."

I wasn't sure what Pierre wanted me to say, did he want me to apologise for posting that photo? Or for handing him a free-pass to get back with Scarlet? I truly didn't understand why he had even turned up in the first place. He could have quite easily stayed with Scarlet and played the supportive friend.

A sigh left Pierre's mouth and he shook his head. "You know what is crazy?" He said as he paced around the kitchen before standing right in front of me. I shrugged my shoulders. "I've been here nearly thirty minutes and you haven't once asked how Scarlet is?"

Clearly, Pierre thought he had had a lightbulb moment. His eyes burst with life and now a laugh left his lips. "You don't care about her at all, do you? Did you ever?" He asked.

That was when I felt a pang of anger run through my veins. My hands balled into fists and the thought of punching my knuckles against the cheekbone of the man who stood 1m away was ever too tempting.

I went to speak but Pierre cut me off, "Your silence speaks volumes." He remarked before telling me that he had better places to be. He walked out of the kitchen and towards the front door.

I found myself pacing after the angered Frenchman. "This isn't about Scarlet." I fumed and clicked the door he had just opened shut again.

He stood back against the wall and brought his hand up to his head in frustration. "Of course not, this is about Max Verstappen as per fucking usual." Pierre chastised.

I shook my head and took a deep breath. I couldn't believe that of all the people in my life I was going to share this with Pierre Gasly. A person who had just as much personal stake in this situation as I did. Someone who would surely benefit if I was to keep quiet.

"Red Bull go to trial on Friday, and they need someone to blame. If they don't they will be dragging her name through the dirt." I lamented and for the first time this evening, Pierre didn't look at me with rage. "I am doing this to protect her, she can hate me all she wants but I am not going to be the reason her career ends."