Turbulence [𝗠.𝗩.]

Sunday, Free Weekend, May

Don't tell my trainer I went off my diet! - @JessicaBond57

@JessicaBond57 you just told the entire internet dummy - @JamesWebb

⸻

ENGLAND
NO RACE THIS WEEK
MAY

Lunch? I'll pay.

Staring at my phone, I'm baffled. Who is texting me? I take a look at the number, and quickly throw the dialling code into Google. +31 belongs to the Netherlands. Who on the grid is Dutch? Are any of our team— no, they'd have a UK number, because we're based in Grove, in Oxfordshire.

Who is this?

I feel silly sending that text. I'm sure it's someone I know, but I highly doubt it's a case of some random person texting the wrong number.

Toto Wolff.

It's Max lmao

I'm so stupid. I'm glad I'm alone in my flat, where nobody can see me facepalm and sigh at how dumb I am to forget the name of the only Dutch driver on the grid. Never mind that I'd just spent yesterday's lunch with him and Daniel; I've completely forgotten that he now has my number.

In my defence, I am a blonde in the wrong body.

What time & where?

I quickly save his number, but I haven't got an appropriate nickname for him to be saved as... I don't know him well enough yet to think of one.

Max;
I'll pick you up, where are you?

I stare at my phone with a mix of shock and something else I'm not sure I can describe. Horror? No. Embarrassment? Possibly. I think it's more of the latter, given that I live in a crappy, tiny flat. I know for a fact half the grid live in big homes, a bunch of them have penthouse flats in Monaco. I live in a small flat a stone's throw from my team's headquarters—hardly the life of luxury you'd expect from someone in Formula 1.

I can get there, just give me a time & a place lol

Max;
Literally no lol
Give me your location

I guess I don't have a choice. Begrudgingly, I send him the address to the road, so I don't have to get judged by probably one of the richest drivers on the grid.

Staring at my muted TV, I sigh gently. Going out for an impromptu lunch sounds better than a day of trying to find something good to watch whilst waiting for an idea to strike me that'll help me waste away the rest of the day. But I'm really not sure if it's the smartest idea I've had to just be all a-okay with randomly accepting an invite to spend time alone with one of the other drivers.

Another sigh leaves me as I push myself off my mid-grey sofa, turning the TV off as I wander the short distance to my bland blue bedroom. I fish out some decent clothes; I don't think Max would appreciate me wearing pyjamas for our little outing. Black jeans - typical for me - and a plain dark blue shirt will work best, I reckon.