Finding Home - an f1 romance

chapter 14

Max Verstappen (POV): [TW: $elf h@rm, @buse, j0s ver$tappen]
I was a mess on Saturday, struggling to keep track of my media duties and meetings. Everything was going too fast, and I couldn't keep up. I was quickly overwhelmed, not helped by my father breathing down my neck any chance he got.

Locking myself in my driver room, I slumped into the couch, releasing exasperated exhales as I pull at my hair. I couldn't get Natalia's hurt eyes and sharp words out of my head. She thought I was selfish. She thought I was too lost in my head. She thought I didn't care about other peoples lives. She thought that ruining other people and their lives is fun for me and that I do it because of fucking daddy issues.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Her face swam in my vision, her words haunting me like a ghost. Always around. Always with me.

Daniel also dug deep into my head. As I was about to leave and go back home, Daniel cornered me in my driver room.

"Max, I'm so sorry!" The door bursts open, revealing a distressed Daniel.

My eyes widen, heart racing. I'm not ready to talk to him. Not yet. "D-Daniel?"

He paces in front of me. "I-I don't remember what I said exactly," he starts, squeezing his eyes shut. "But I know the gist of it. I didn't mean it, okay? I don't want you thinking about that, please."

"Too late," I mutter.

"Please, Max. I'm so sorry. I never wanted to say something like that, especially while drunk. I certainly didn't want you to have a panic attack because of it."

My body freezes. "What did you just say?"

"N-Natalia told me about it. I'm so fucking sorry-"

"What?" I shout. "You asked Natalia?"

Daniel blinks in shock. "Max, I was worried about you! You never flinch away from me, and I was worried something seriously happened to you. I'm sorry for caring!"

"Why the fuck would you corner and interrogate my fucking girlfriend!" I yell.

"She's not your girlfriend," Daniel growls. "And I didn't interrogate her! I just asked, okay? What's so wrong with that? She told me all of that willingly, in fact, she was worried about you, too."

"That doesn't give you the right to ask her about my personal life! Maybe you should focus on getting over your friend instead of focusing on me!"

"What the fuck, Max?"

"I said what I said," I snap. "Since you clearly are confusing us."

"I've never confused you guys-"

"Oh cut the fucking bullshit, Daniel. Drunk people say honest thoughts, not lies. You said it because you've thought about it, clearly a lot of times."

"I'm sorry, okay?" Daniel gruffly says. "You locked yourself up with ZERO FUCKING CONTACT FOR WEEKS!" he roars. "WHAT THE HELL WAS I SUPPOSED TO THINK?"

I flinch at his booming voice. My emotions were running high, too high. If I stay any longer, things will get worse. "I'm leaving."

Like the weak, pathetic person I was, I stormed out with tears in my eyes. Being roared at like that triggers deep feelings and memories I don't want to feel and think about. I cry in the car before driving to my place. All I think about is anger, trying to stop myself from feeling anything else. And my anger is all on one person: Natalia.

I suck in breaths, trying to push the arguments out of my mind. The two shouting matches with Daniel and Natalia drained me entirely, while also haunting me into staying awake all night.