Unreliable

31 - world champion

Trigger/Content Warning: Mentions of Abuse, Sexual Content

Max's POV — Three Months Later | Abu Dhabi

Today's the day. The most anticipated moment of the season. Max Verstappen versus Lando Norris. We are only 6 points apart, so a win for each is a win of the championship. If I win, and he gets second place, I win the driver's championship by a staggering 13 points. But if he wins and I get second place, he wins the driver's championship by a mind blowing 1 point. And losing by 1 point hurts more than losing by 13, 18 or 25 points, for example.

And it hurts even more if you're called Max Verstappen with an abusive father called Jos Verstappen.

"Radio check, radio check." GP yells through the earbuds as I click some random buttons on the steering wheel.

"Loud and clear." I click the radio button and I continue doing more things on my steering wheel, mostly adjusting braking and other settings.

"Max, it's Jos. He wants to talk to you." Fuck. I don't think I've ever been this upset to hear my father, especially when it's GP announcing that I'm going to hear his irritating and annoying voice.

"Max. I want to tell you that I haven't been very proud of you until this very moment. I know I've been a bastard and a bitch to you over the year, but I'm proud of you. Even though I haven't been much, I still am. And... I'm sorry."

"Stop bullshitting."

"What?"

"Stop bullshitting, Jos. You're not sorry. You're not proud. You don't know that you've been a bastard and a bitch. You're only saying those words so that you look good for the press. We all know that you're never and you've never been any of those things, whether that be sorry or proud. You're such a hopeless fuck, you're an actual bastard. Hell, you don't even admit that you've beaten me up. You're talking as if you're proud of me only for press. Only for fucking money, damn it!" I yell the last sentence and I make some people in the garage tremble.

"Max. I don't know what you're saying! Is it another one of your crazy dreams?"

"The only crazy dream I have is of you with your throat slit. That's the only crazy dream. And you wanna know why it's crazy? Because I want it to happen but I'm so fucking sure it never will. Goodbye, motherfucker." I click the disable radio button and I finally find what I want. Peace.

Not for long though, as I feel something hit the side of my car, hard. It's Jos, of course. "You fucking dickhead! How dare you speak to me like that! I'm your father!" I ignore him as the mechanics grab him by the armpits and drag him outside of the room.

"Are you alright, Max?" GP's soft and calming voice comes back on the radio.

"Yeah... Yeah I'm fine. I guess." I smirk a little bit and I see the mechanic signaling in front of me. "This is actually happening."

"Fourth in a row. Are you ready?"

"Abso-fucking-lutely." I speed out of the garage and I get out into the formation lap.

***
                                                                     One light.

Two lights.

Three lights.

Four lights.

Five lights.

Lights out. The battle has fucking started.

***

Lap 10 and I'm in pretty good pace. Standing a measly 2.3 seconds in front of Lando and Charles is 3.7 seconds behind him.