Broken Speed | Verstappen & Leclerc

prologue

-|- Abu Dhabi -|-

The night was electric. I could feel the energy buzzing through the air, thrumming with the beat of the music that shook the walls of the club. My fourth championship. I let the thought sink in as I took another sip of champagne, the bubbles dancing on my tongue. 

The taste was sweet, almost as sweet as the victory that was still pulsing through my veins. This was it. This was the life I had worked so damn hard for, and tonight, I was going to enjoy every second of it.

I glanced around the room, taking in the faces of friends, teammates, and people whose names I couldn't quite remember but who were here to celebrate with me anyway. They were all laughing, clinking glasses, shouting over the music. 

I should have been right in the middle of it, soaking up the moment. But there was something else on my mind, something I had been pushing away for far too long now.

For months, my life had been nothing but racing, every moment, every breath, focused on winning this championship. Everything else had been on hold, pushed aside in the relentless pursuit of perfection. 

But now, now I had a chance to think, to actually feel. And there was something I had been feeling for a while, something that had quietly gnawed at the edges of my mind, no matter how hard I had tried to ignore it.

I had ended things with my girlfriend in the summer break. It hadn't been fair to her, not with the way my mind was always on the track, the way my heart was never fully hers. But the truth was, there was more to it than just racing. There was a part of me I had kept locked away for years, too afraid to even acknowledge it, let alone let it out. 

But I was done with that. I was done hiding. I had been thinking about this for weeks. The season was over, and I finally had time to figure out what I really wanted, who I really wanted. And tonight, I had decided, was the night I would started to act on it.

I let my gaze drift across the room, searching for the one person I had been thinking about more than I should, more than I liked to admit, Charles Leclerc. I spotted him almost immediately, leaning against a table, laughing at something someone had said. 

His eyes were bright, his smile wide, and just seeing him like that sent a rush of something unfamiliar and terrifying through me. I had known Charles for years, raced against him, battled with him, respected him. But this was different, and it scared the hell out of me.

But before I could even think about going over there, about trying to figure out what the hell this was between us, I needed to do something else, I needed to know that I could do it. I needed to prove to myself that I wasn't just imagining this, that I could actually follow through on these feelings.

I took another sip of my drink, my eyes scanning the room again, this time looking for someone else. I saw him a moment later, a guy leaning against the bar, tall, dark-haired, with a kind of casual confidence that drew me in. 

He was quite the opposite of my usual type, but there was something about him that said he had done this before, that he knew exactly what he wanted. And right now, that was everything I needed.

My heart was pounding as I walked over, but I kept my face steady, trying not to let the nerves show. This was it, no turning back.

"Hey," I said, my voice coming out surprisingly calm given the way my pulse was racing.

He looked up, a slow grin spreading across his face as his eyes met mine. 

"Hey yourself," he replied, his gaze flicking over me in a way that made my stomach twist, not unpleasantly, though.

We exchanged a few words, nothing important, nothing I would remember later. And then, before I could second-guess myself, before I could talk myself out of it, I closed the distance between us and kissed him.

It was quick, almost too quick, but it was enough. Enough to send a jolt of electricity through me, enough to make me realize that this was real, that this was something I wanted, something I needed.

When I pulled back, I was breathless, my mind spinning. The guy was grinning at me, and I couldn't help but grin back, feeling a rush of something like victory. But this was different from the kind of victory I was used to, this was personal.

"Thanks," I said, and I meant it. 

He nodded, understanding in his eyes, as if he knew exactly what this had meant to me.

I turned away, my confidence bolstered, and made my way across the room, back toward where I had last seen Charles. My heart was still racing, but now it wasn't just from nerves. There was excitement there too, anticipation.

I spotted him again, still standing by the table, still smiling, still looking like everything I had been trying to avoid thinking about. But I was done avoiding, tonight, I was going to find out if this thing between us was real, or if it had all just been in my head.

But just as I took a step toward him, my phone buzzed in my pocket, cutting through the moment like a knife. I frowned, pulling it out, half-tempted to ignore it. Who the hell would be calling me right now? Everyone I knew was either here or should be, and anyone else could wait until tomorrow.

Still, something made me check the screen. An unfamiliar number stared back at me, and I hesitated. I didn't know why, but there was a feeling in the pit of my stomach, a sense of unease that hadn't been there a second ago.

I glanced back at Charles, who hadn't noticed me yet, too caught up in his conversation. I could have just ignored the call, gone over to him, and dealt with whatever this was later. But the phone kept buzzing in my hand, insistent, demanding my attention.

With a sigh, I swiped to answer, holding the phone to my ear. 

"Hello?"

Silence greeted me on the other end, and for a moment, I thought maybe it was just a wrong number. But then I heard it, a voice I didn't recognize, saying my name in a way that sent a chill down my spine.

"Max Verstappen?"

I didn't reply, suddenly feeling like the ground was shifting beneath my feet. There was something in the tone, something I couldn't quite place but that made my heart start to pound for a different reason entirely.

"Mr. Verstappen, it's important," the voice continued, and I could hear it now, the undercurrent of urgency, of something serious, something that had nothing to do with the celebration around me.

"I..." I started to say, but the words caught in my throat. 

I glanced back at Charles, who was laughing at something, completely unaware of the sudden shift in my world. I didn't know why, but I already knew, whatever this call was, it was going to change everything.

"Please, just listen," the voice said, and I found myself gripping the phone tighter, my other hand clenched into a fist at my side.

But before the voice could say anything more, I hung up, the noise of the party suddenly too loud, too overwhelming. I didn't want to hear it, not now, not tonight. I shoved the phone back into my pocket, forcing myself to breathe, to stay calm.

But the moment was gone. The confidence, the excitement, all of it had evaporated, leaving only a hollow feeling in its place. I looked at Charles again, but now it was like there was a wall between us, something I couldn't cross, not now, not yet.

I turned away, the weight of the call pressing down on me like a heavy blanket. I didn't know what it was, not exactly, but I could feel it. Whatever it was, it was going to change everything.

And I wasn't ready for it.