𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 ~ | 𝘔𝘢𝘹 𝘝𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯

043 || Little voices

Max's POV

I had tried to get her out of my head. Since that night, I have been all over the place. I hadn't let myself cry since I won my first championship, and my dad said he was proud of me. I don't cry.

What the fuck was wrong with me?

It was hard not to think about her since we worked together. It hadn't helped that this morning I had seen her leaving Lando's room. What had she been doing? An even better question was, Why the fuck was I this jealous?

I couldn't think about that right now. I had a race to win. Sabrina had beat me for pole by only a couple tenths of a second, but after a grid penalty, I had been demoted to P4. The only car that would be any kind of challenge to overtake was hers.

I lost myself in the seat by the halo. I took a deep breath as I felt my steering wheel being fitted in. I looked up at the sky.

The sky was beautiful.

It reminded me of-

No! Focus! For fucks sake, I shook my head at myself quickly, looking back down. I heard the horn, and the mechanics pulled away onto the grass. I took another deep breath, snapping down my visor.

The formation lap went smoothly, with Sabrina setting a fast pace. She seemed impatient to get this race started. As we lined up, I felt my heart hammer in my chest. I didn't know what it was, but something didn't feel right. I had this nagging feeling that something was going to go wrong.

As soon as the lights went out, I pushed that feeling away, focusing on just racing. I managed to overtake Hamilton into turn one and pull ahead. It was only until around lap ten that the little voice returned. It kept getting stronger as each lap went by. By lap thirty, I could almost hear it whispering in my ear.

Danger, danger, danger!

I elected to ignore it. But I would be wary. I didn't do anything reckless or risky. I kept my car perfectly within the lines and overtook it when I saw an easy gap.

Unfortunately, the little voice hadn't been talking about me.

My memory was a little foggy, but I believe it was around lap 48. That's when I saw my worst nightmare unfold right before me. I didn't see the whole thing because there was a Mclaren blocking most of my view.

I saw a cloud of dust and a spray of gravel. The screech of tires. The gasps and screams of the crowd as the two cars spun out. The scene unfolded in front of me in slow motion. I just sort of watched it. There was nothing I could do to stop it.

One of the cars, a Ferrari, but I couldn't be sure which, hit the barrier, which had already slightly slowed the gravel. Whoever was inside would feel a bit dizzy and bruised but would walk away just fine.

The other was not so lucky.

As soon as it hit the gravel, something must have caught on the wheel because it just went flying through the air. Tiny rocks and a piece of the car flew in every direction like shrapnel. My heart was in my throat as I heard the sickening crash as the car hit the barrier. It was an upsidown.

That was when I saw the flames.

Flickering, lapping hungrily at the metal. There is no movement. I smelled the acrid smoke and almost gagged. And just like that, I flashed by, time speeding up again. I was too stunned to speak for a couple of beats. My heart was banging against my chest like a wardrum.

"Thom-thomas. Who was that?" I asked. I dreaded the answer. Deep down, I knew who it was, but I just couldn't accept it. No.

"That was Hawke and Adler." He responed. My heart dropped. I felt sick. Why did it have to be them? They are two of the most important people in the world to me. I don't think I have ever been more afraid in my life.