The lights of the Yas Marina Circuit flickered in the distance, casting long shadows over the bustling paddock. Y/N tugged at the zipper of her race suit, feeling the buzz of adrenaline mixed with nerves settle deep in her gut. This wasn’t her first race weekend in Formula 2, but there was something different about this one. The eyes of the F1 paddock were on her, more intense than ever before. Especially his.
Max Verstappen stood at the entrance of the Red Bull hospitality unit, arms crossed as he surveyed the scene before him. He had been following Y/N’s career for months now, quietly impressed with her pace, consistency, and fierce determination. It reminded him of his own early days — the hunger to prove everyone wrong.
As Y/N walked by, she caught his eye. For a brief moment, they exchanged a nod, and a faint smile tugged at the corner of Max’s lips. He had no reason to be here, not really. Red Bull had already secured both championships, and it wasn’t like he needed to scout future competition. But Y/N was different. There was something about her—something that made him want to help, to guide her through the labyrinth that was Formula 1.
Later that evening, Y/N found herself staring at her reflection in the mirror, mind buzzing with the day’s events. She had qualified third for the F2 feature race, but the only thing that played over in her mind was the look in Max’s eyes. Why was he watching her? What did he see in her that she didn’t?
A knock on her door snapped her out of her thoughts.
“Come in,” she called, half-expecting it to be her team principal or an engineer with data to review.
To her surprise, it was Max.
“Mind if I sit?” he asked, his usual cocky demeanor replaced with something softer, more sincere. She nodded, still trying to process why the reigning F1 world champion was in her hotel room.
Max leaned back in his chair, looking uncharacteristically relaxed. “You’ve got talent. Raw, unpolished, but it’s there.”
Y/N blinked, unsure how to respond. “Thanks, I guess? Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I’ve been where you are,” he said, his gaze meeting hers directly. “I know what it’s like to have people doubt you, to constantly have to prove that you deserve to be here. And I can help you with that.”
The offer hung in the air between them, heavy with possibility. Was this real? Max Verstappen, offering her mentorship? It seemed surreal, but the sincerity in his eyes was unmistakable.
“I don’t need a mentor,” Y/N shot back, crossing her arms defensively. “I need people to take me seriously on my own merit.”
“And they will,” Max said, unfazed by her attitude. “But this world isn’t fair. You know that. You’re going to need every advantage you can get.”
Y/N hesitated. She had spent years fighting for respect in a male-dominated sport, always pushing back against the skepticism and scrutiny. But as much as she wanted to do it all on her own, there was a part of her that knew he was right.
“Okay,” she said finally. “What’s the catch?”
Max smiled, the cockiness returning just a bit. “No catch. Just don’t beat me on track — at least not too soon.”
---
Months passed, and their secret mentorship flourished. Max helped Y/N dissect data, refine her racing lines, and manage the mental strain of competing at such a high level. He was tough on her, never sugarcoating the truth, but he was also supportive in a way she hadn’t expected.
The media soon caught wind of their unusual partnership, and rumors spread like wildfire. Was Max grooming her to be his next teammate? Was Red Bull considering replacing Sergio Perez? Every interview Y/N did was laced with questions about her relationship with Max, and whether she was ready to make the jump to F1.
But the pressure didn’t stop there. Within the paddock, whispers of doubt circulated. Some drivers scoffed at the idea of a woman competing in F1, while others outright dismissed her talent. The weight of expectation was crushing at times, but Max never wavered.
“You’ve earned this,” he would remind her after every race, every podium, every time she doubted herself.
And then, the moment came.
---
The 2025 season was fast approaching, and the F1 world was in a frenzy over who would fill the second seat at Red Bull. Y/N had been named a reserve driver, but rumors suggested something more. As tensions mounted, the final race of the F2 season loomed — the race that could seal her fate.
The lights went out, and Y/N launched off the grid like a bullet. Her mind was clear, focused solely on the task ahead. Lap after lap, she fought for position, clawing her way to the front. The car was an extension of herself, and the track, her battleground.
In the closing laps, she found herself wheel-to-wheel with her biggest rival. The two of them battled fiercely, trading positions with every turn. But Y/N had learned from the best. She had studied Max’s racecraft, his ability to stay calm under pressure, and now, she was putting it all to the test.
As she crossed the finish line in first place, the crowd erupted. She had done it. The F2 championship was hers.
In the aftermath, surrounded by flashing cameras and reporters, Y/N spotted Max in the distance, watching with quiet pride. They didn’t need to speak. The bond they had forged over the past year was stronger than words.
---
Weeks later, the announcement came. Y/N was named the new Red Bull Racing driver for the 2025 season, replacing Sergio Perez. The world exploded with opinions, but Y/N didn’t care. She had earned this.
On the day of her first F1 race, Max approached her on the grid. He placed a hand on her shoulder, his eyes serious but proud.
“Remember what I said,” he told her. “Just don’t beat me too soon.”
Y/N grinned. “No promises.”
The lights went out, and Y/N’s F1 journey began — under the same flag, but with a destiny entirely her own.
