A HIT NEW BOMBSHELL ENTERS THE F1 WORLD
Celia Winter, the first woman to ever win a Grand Prix and the woman that almost (by 9 points) won the world championships her second year
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Max was a perfectionist; anyone could see that. He also had a desire to win like nobody else. He never let up. It didn't matter to him if it was a title deciding race or a completely meaningless one, he needed to win. It had been instilled in him for as long as he could remember; second place is first loser after all. So naturally, when his brakes failed, and his car very literally caught fire in the Australian Grand Prix causing him to have to retire three laps into the race; Celia knew he was not going to take it well.
Celia was watching along on the screens while driving in her beautiful 15 second lead, and the only thing she could think about as his smoking car pulled up to the pits was how hard on himself he was going to be. The fact that it was through no fault of his own was irrelevant. He had just handed a win to her, and that made his blood boil. She knew that he loved her but that was off track, on track they were rivals
In typical Max fashion, Celia barely saw him after he retired too. He gave you a quick hug before the podium ceremony after that it was straight back to business. He made his way to the pit wall and immediately began discussing with Christian and GP what exactly happened and how do they fix it for Japan. He sent her a text that he was going to stay late at the track with the mechanics so that you should just head back to the hotel or party with Lando who made it P3.
Truthfully he was avoiding her. After all that they went through in the last year Celia knew. She knew Max and what was going on inside of him more than anyone else.
So, she went to the hotel and waited for him; or at least she tried to. Tiredness and jet lag eventually started to catch up to Celia, and she had just started to drift off to sleep when she heard the door open. Looking up greet Max, she could see immediately how heavy the weight he bore on his shoulders hung.
"Hey Schatz, how are you feeling?" Celia asked him sleep in her voice still evident. Max just hung his head and walked into the bathroom. He half expected she to berate him. To question him on exactly what went wrong and what he's going to do to fix it.
"Maxie?" She asked again, as he came in from the bathroom and made his way to his side of the bed, his eyes routed to the floor. This time he just grunted at her in response before getting into bed and turning away from her. He did not have the energy to be told everything he did wrong and why —he had already had that from his dad.
"Please talk to me Max, I'm worried." Celia pleaded at him, fighting the urge to wrap her arms around him. She wanted that more than anything, but she sensed that he maybe didn't feel the same.
"What do you want Celia?" He finally spoke, his voice cracking.
"Are you okay? I know that was tough result to take but it's only once race. We both know you'll be back better than ever for the next one. And try to beat everyone."
"I just hate to let the team down" he spoke, his voice no more than a whisper, like he wasn't 100% convinced if he should be saying anything.
"But Schatz you didn't let them down, you did nothing wrong. There was an issue with the car that isn't your fault." She gazed down at his face, her hands smoothing through his hair.
