Hate to race lestappen

Australia

The week passed slowly for Max, though he managed to stay out of the public eye and, for the most part, avoided any more dangerous "accidents."

He barely left his apartment, spending most of his time alone, either trying to drown out his thoughts or staring blankly at the TV.

He felt like he was just drifting, waiting for something to pull him out of this limbo.

But nothing did.

The memory of that night at Charles's place still lingered in his mind, even though he tried to block it out.

He hated that Charles had seen him like that—vulnerable, weak.

And even though they hadn't spoken since, Max knew he couldn't avoid him forever.

Australia was coming up, and there'd be no way to escape it.

But for now, he stayed locked in, waiting for the inevitable.

-

Charles, on the other hand, had kept himself busy. After the mess with Max, he threw himself back into his routine, training, prepping for Australia, going out with friends.

He tried not to think too much about what had happened or about Max at all. He didn't need that kind of distraction. He had his own things to deal with—like his girlfriend's constant demands and his own need to reset before the next race.

Still, the unease from the encounter with Max lingered somewhere in the back of his mind, but he buried it deep, not wanting to let it resurface.

-

Before long, the weekend rolled around, and with it, the inevitable flight to Australia.

Lewis had insisted on them all traveling together in his private plane, citing "economics" or whatever excuse he could come up with to gather everyone.

Max couldn't help but scoff at the idea, but there wasn't much of a choice. So, he found himself on the same plane as Charles—again.

No matter how hard he tried to keep his distance, their paths kept crossing.

The plane itself was packed with drivers, team members, and some crew, filling the air with casual conversations and jokes.

Max kept to himself, sitting in the back, trying not to engage too much. He wore his usual cap, pulled low over his face, earphones in to drown out the noise, hoping no one would bother him.
The last thing he wanted was to deal with any social interactions, especially with Charles so close.

Charles, for his part, wasn't exactly thrilled either. He noticed Max the moment he boarded, and though he didn't say anything, the tension between them was palpable.

He took a seat a few rows ahead, far enough to avoid direct contact but close enough that Max's presence was impossible to ignore.

Lewis, meanwhile, seemed oblivious to the undercurrents between the two of them, happily chatting with everyone, moving from group to group with his usual charm.

He made sure to include Max and Charles in conversation every now and then, forcing them to at least acknowledge each other's existence.

The flight to Australia felt longer than usual, the silence between Max and Charles heavy with things unsaid. Neither of them were ready for whatever confrontation loomed ahead, but they both knew it was coming—whether on the track or off of it.

For now, though, all they could do was endure the flight. Australia awaited, and with it, whatever chaos would unfold next.

-