Brute

35. Max

Kai's worries made him feel like a teenager again, as she spoke about what she was experiencing he felt like he was reliving those days of his career again. He remembered how isolating it felt, the pressure from not just himself but also his father to do well and that horrible feeling that he could never really befriend the kids because they were his competition.

Max was glad he was able to talk to Kai, he wished someone was there for him. Just like this. To remind him to focus on his practice and not stress too much, someone to remind him he was still just a kid he was allowed to have fun. Someone to tell him he was not alone, all those other kids were feeling the same emotions as him, in fact he should interact with them. They could all understand and teach other a thing or two.

After a long conversation, she had calmed down she told him she felt more confident about herself now that she knew everyone was feeling the same. In fact even her idol felt these emotions! She thanked him for taking the time out of his schedule to talk to her and wished him all the best for the race.

Max fell asleep quite easily that evening, despite Kalki's rather strange display of frustration at him. In fact he didn't even understand why she got so mad. It was a fact, she never did anything for him out of kindness. No matter how kind he tried to be to her, why didn't she reciprocate it?

***

"She's pretty cool you know?" Lando said, beaming from ear to ear as they got onto the the parade truck.

"Who's cool?" Carlos asked chiming in.

"I went out with Kalki, Max's manager." Lando beamed.

"That beauty? Tell me everything mate!"

"You have a girlfriend mate." Charles remarked, with a disinterested look on his face.

Max noticed he'd been looking like this all weekend, he wasn't close enough to ask him what was wrong. But he did see him often enough to know he wasn't being himself. He could probably ask someone else what was up and get the scoop.

"Well I'm not hitting on her. I'm just saying that she is a good looking woman." Carlos said.

"Can you stop discussing Burman like that? Please stop." Max said looking disturbed.

They went about the rest of the parade discussing other things, like track conditions, what was new with the FIA's ridiculous demands and laws. Max made his way to his garage, he spotted Kalki who looked very eager to tell him something.

"What is it?" He asked her.

"Today's going to be an easy win for you okay? You're going to extend your lead!"

"What do you mean?"

"I heard some rumours, today should be an easy win for you." She smirked evilly.

Kalki had noticed the same thing as him, Charles wasn't himself. This could be very good for them, the thing with this sport is, you have to win a battle in your head before you can win with your car. Half the fight is lost if you're not present mentally.

"So what's the information?"

"He's missing a special someone today, apparently things didn't end very well." She said.

"Oh yeah! I last saw her in Monaco and then one of his exes made a comeback, I guess that fizzled out." Max said. "But why are you smiling so evilly? Do you find joy in that poor guy's pain?"

"Poor guy? Max, are you feeling empathy for the first time!" She laughed.

Max. She said his name. She didn't call him Mister Verstappen. It felt strange to hear her say it, but he wasn't against it. He could get used to it. He wanted to get used to it. Maybe some day he'd be able to just call her Kalki.

"I know what it's like for things to end messily with the person you thought would be with you no matter what. So yes, I do empathise with him but in no way does it mean I'm going to be relaxed or go easy." Max said.

"I get what you mean. Good luck. You got this!" She said walking towards the wall to claim a radio set.

He greeted all his mechanics and took his place by his helmet, taking a moment to set his intentions for the ninety minutes ahead of him. The weather reports showed a high chance of some showers, but as of now it only looked partly cloudy. He knew he could trust his strategists to make the right call, all he had to do was get in the car and drive his heart out.

The formation lap went by, the lights went out and he was off with a better start. Car number 16 slowly started to diminish in size in his rearview mirrors, he just had to keep pushing like this. The clouds overhead were starting to get more dense when they got to a little less than halfway, it looked like it was about to start pouring.

And then it started, it started off as a small drizzle. Max heard the static of his radio, "box this lap Max, Box Box." His engineer said.

"Copy." He said.

He pressed the pit limiter, feeling the car slow down. Just when he made it in, it seemed that the red flag was deployed. The race directors were yet to relay information of what exactly was happening. Still strapped into the cockpit, Max tried to peer to the closest screen to see what was happening.

"What's happening?" He asked on the radio.

"A Ferrari in the barriers, it might take a while to get the car of the track."

"Which one?"

"55. The track has gotten some really wet patches because of the drizzle-"

"A case of hydroplaning I see." Max said, unbuckling his straps as the car got rolled into the garage.

He stepped out of the car and went straight to the pit wall, to see what was going to happen next. It appeared that the rains were only going to get heavier, it was going to be the race director's call what happens next.

They went racing in the rain, as safely as they could. There were a couple of spins but no serious accidents and Max was able to win comfortably. Charles came second, followed by Lewis in third. The three of them congratulated each other for their results and made their way to the cooldown room. Lewis was quick to point out Leclerc had been really quiet all weekend.

"Nothing really." Charles laughed.

Max could see it in his eyes, the usual hunger that burned in them was gone. His eyes looked sad, defeated. An emotion he hadn't quite learned to associate Charles with. Max knew that he fought to the very end about everything. This really was the look of a man who had probably lost a big part of his purpose.

How could he tell Charles he knew exactly what he was going through and that it would get better at some point without sounding unprofessional? He didn't want to cross the line, so all he could do was clink bottles of champagne with him on the podium after they celebrated.