Broken ✞ Max Verstappen x OC x George Russell

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♬ Fighting in only your army
Frontlines, don't you ignore me
I'm the best thing at this party ♬

Max Verstappen POV

It wasn't a broken rib, it was a bruised rib; I was given the authorization to race this weekend; this is my home race, and I wasn't going to stay home for something so stupid. I was up and ready to go when my mother and sister entered the room; I looked behind them, but there was no sign of Sky.

"Great, someone to take me to the hotel," I say happily as I give them a quick hug with the left side of my body that didn't hurt when I breathed.

"When were you going to tell us about the talk of yesterday? She apologized for leaving with a letter," Victoria asks, and I shrug.

"After the Grand Prix, I didn't have much time. I went to get the letter from Ava, and I barely slept, if I am being honest. Where is she?" I ask as we leave the hospital room, and I see Sky putting down her phone and turning to us.

"Be careful," she says when we reach her, and I nod.

"Don't worry about it. Is everything alright at the track?" I ask curiously, and she nods.

"Yes, Mercedes found a malfunction in the car; it wasn't George's fault; he lost control while exiting the turn," it made sense if we are being honest.

"That's good to know. I was considering sending him off the track tomorrow in quali," I joked as I walked with them to my mom's car.

"Are you going back to the track or the hotel?" My sister asks her, and she seems surprised.

"The hotel. The team knows what to do by now; you were excused from today's interviews," Sky says as she picks up her phone.

"Get in then; we are all going the same way," my mom says calmly as both she and Victoria enter the car, and I open Sky's door for her before going around and getting in the back of the car, too.

The ride to the hotel was quiet, but we all got out as soon as possible, and Skylar turned to us before entering the hotel.

"Please, make him eat, he will complain, but this is bad enough. And thank you for the ride, I will see you tomorrow."

"Take care, darling," my mom says as she smiles at her.

They did make me have dinner with them, and not everything was bad this weekend. I told them all about the talk I had with Skylar, and they were shocked by the fact she had cancer; I could tell they wanted to cry even while they tried to comfort me while saying there was nothing I could've done differently.

But there was a lot I could've done. Saturday was a good day; qualifying was good, and I was ending the interviews when George came in my direction as I exited the media pen, so I waited for him.

"Can we talk?" He asks nervously, and I nod calmly.

"Sure."

"It wasn't on purpose, I lost control of the car, and it just happened, it could've been anyone who was on that turn," he was nervous, but I just laughed, even if it hurt like hell once I did.

"I know it wasn't on purpose, the car malfunctioned. Mercedes should take care of it. It could've been way worse; I know what is happening with Skylar, and it will stay outside of the track. And if she chooses you, make her happy. She deserves happiness."

"You still love her, right?" He asks curiously, and I nod.

"I do. But I'm an asshole with a shitty temper and an ex-boyfriend for a reason. You are the guy who is with her now. I'm her past, and you are her present," I tell him, but he laughs.

"I'm her moment of fun; you are the love of her life, different things. I'm glad to have been a part of her life either way. I wish you luck for the relationship, I think you can make it last this time. You've both evolved in that time apart; good luck, mate," he says before leaving my side, and I try not to smile.

I entered the car for the last practice before qualifying, and all eyes were on me; the pain in my ribs was reaching unbearable levels, so I did three laps with some rest apart before deciding to park the car. I got out, and my mom and sister had this reprimanding look on their faces as I took the helmet and balaclava off.

"I'm fine," I say as Christian comes in my direction to check on me.

"You still got top three," he says proudly, and I nod.

The weekend wasn't bad; it's my home race, and I have to deal with the pain. The moment I won, I felt proud. I could win under these circumstances. I was feeling good, but as I walked to the cooldown room, I saw the video on the screen. Skylar was in the Red Bull garage celebrating my win and hugging my family; it felt like we had returned 2 years in time. 

I had to double-check because I sure was flabbergasted at that moment. Why was she there? Why was she happy I won? Is it because it's my home race? She always celebrated this win and Belgium like there was no tomorrow. And seeing her reaction to the win just made the pain worth it.

I saw her probably once or twice on the paddock after that and couldn't really approach her as she was distributing orders to her team. I settled with the disappointment of not seeing her until the next race. Until I entered the nightclub and saw her laughing at some dumb joke Charles was telling.

But what caught my attention was the dress she had on. I bought it three years ago when we were in Paris, I remember it distinctly because I loved that dress on her and she still looks like a goddess when she wears it. I prepared myself before approaching them, and I coughed to show my presence.

"Thank you for coming," I say nervously, and she chuckles.

"Charles was really insistent and Victoria almost dragged me here, I am glad I always have some party clothes with me. Congratulations on the win, it was impressive," she says honestly, and I felt my heart racing when our eyes clashed.

"It's my cue to leave," Charles mutters proudly as he sneakily leaves us alone at the table, and I try not to laugh.

"Love the dress; I'm glad you kept it," it was more of a tease, but she laughed.

"Looks as good as it did back then," she says confidently, and I shake my head.

"It looks better than it did back then, and I thought that was impossible," I waited for a reaction, but she smiled and nodded.

"Very smooth, I can't say I didn't like it. I will choose to agree."

Her words were followed by her going in my sister's direction and pulling her to the dance floor. I smiled and leaned back. I missed this; it feels so familiar.