Not A Verstappen || CL16 & LN4

Untitled Part 1

There was nothing that irked you more than being called a Verstappen. Yes, you were Max's sister, but that was where the relationship with the name ended. Your sperm donor, as you publicly referred to Jos, had never been a part of your life and that was one blessing you were thankful for.

Somehow the bastard's genetics had won and that stupid racer's blood ran in your veins. You liked to go fast. Your mother said that you could run before you could walk and the same went for driving. At 17 years old you had your super licence before your drivers licence, making it legal to drive at 200 mph around a circuit with insane corners but not 30 mph on the street.

Something about that seemed...odd.

It was worth it in the end. You could still remember the look on Jos' face when you signed for Alpha Tauri. Oh, how the bastard had tried to credit himself with your achievement. But there were more similarities that you shared with your half sibling than you were willing to admit. One of those shared traits was brutal honesty. And you had let your honest thoughts fly when Jos opened his mouth.

Three years later the sperm donor was still bitter. He would surely have to get used to it, especially since you had just been named as a Red Bull driver, alongside Max.

Round One - Bahrain 2022

"This is a historical first, siblings racing together on the same team," Ted Kravitz said as he walked along the pit, stopping outside Red Bull's garage. "The two Verstappen's will be fighting each other for the Driver Championship, once again, while simultaneously working together to win the Constructors Championship. A very, very exciting season ahead I can already tell."

You had been pulling your helmet on, about to climb into the RB18 when you heard the comment. The short temper you were well known for flared and you sauntered into the pit lane. "Hey, Ted Crapitz," you called out as he stood writing in that little notepad of his.

He looked up a little stunned and his eyes darted at the camera that was always following him around. "It's, uh, Kravitz."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I thought it was just normal to make up offensive surnames. No?" you asked as you arched an eyebrow at him. "Because Verstappen isn't mine, so don't ever call me that again."

"S-sorry, my mistake," he stammered, but you were already shoving your helmet on and grabbing the halo to climb into your car. "Ouch, that's a bit of a slap on the wrist for me there."

You had no doubt that the video would go viral and the comments would call you a bitch but you didn't care. Jos was a piece of shit and your mother didn't raise you all on her own, working two jobs to pay for your karting years, just for you to be called a fucking Verstappen.

There was no better feeling than pulling out of the garage and heading to the track. The finely tuned car purred beneath you and you could feel the restrained power of it just waiting for you to pass the pit marker so you could push the throttle and free the beast you had worked hard to control.

"Radio check," your engineer, Nicholas, ordered through the headset.

"Tell Max to keep his mouth closed during the race. It can't be healthy to eat my dust."

"Understood."

The jeroboam size bottle of Ferrari Trento looked enormous in your hands as you shook it up and sprayed Charles and Carlos back after drenching you first. You may have been on the bottom step of the podium but you celebrated as if you had taken 1st place. Turning the bottle on the crowd, you spotted Max at the front with a wide grin on his face as he cheered with the rest of Red Bull.

It was a little disappointing that he had DNF'd but there was always next week to battle it out again. In the meantime you enjoyed the adrenaline of the podium finish and the image of Jos standing to the side with a face like a slapped ass. It was a feeling you could definitely get used to.