𝐒 𝐏 𝐑 𝐈 𝐍 𝐓 𝐄 𝐑 [max verstappen x oc]

five

"You're late. Again."

"Fuck off, Jaime." Lena groaned, rubbing her eyes despite the mascara that was still stuck on her lashes. She hadn't gotten enough sleep to care. 

Jaime seemed offended. "Jesus, someone had a rough night. Wanna talk about why you're so bitchy or should the rest of us suffer?"

She sighed and felt the guilt creeping in. "I'm sorry, I-I just didn't get a lot of sleep last night. I'm sorry, that was mean of me to say."

He looked concerned now. "Alright, Lena, I was joking. Are you...okay?"

Nodding, Lena dropped her bag onto her desk. "Yes. Long, long night. It's fine, now."

"Okay." Jaime still didn't seem convinced. "You're needed on field. Do you want to call out, today? I don't mind getting an intern to cover for you."

"No, no. It's fine, I'm already here." There was no point in going home now. She was already all set for the day, going home would drain her even more. "Field needs me?"

"Yep." An energy drink was placed on her desk. "There's more in the fridge."

"You're the love of my life, Jaime."

It didn't take her long to drain the can and get out onto the field, her camera slung around her neck and her hoodie rolled up to her forearms. 

"Lena!" She cringed at her name but more importantly the person calling it. Wesley. "Lena!"

She mustered a smile and turned a round to face him. Wes was, just her luck, shirtless with sweat already dripping off of him, and Lena was reminded why she was so infatuated with him in the first place. His black hair was disheveled and he looked concerned. 

"Hi, Wes." 

He put his hands on his hips and caught his breath. "Hey. Did you get my texts last night?"

Fuck. Lena had forgotten to text him back. "Uh, no, actually my phone died. I didn't mean to leave so quickly."

"It's alright." Wes scratched his neck. "Was everything okay? I mean, the thing you had to deal with? Like, I didn't do anything wrong, or like..."

"No, no, Wes. It-it wasn't you." She felt horrible lying to him but it was better than her secret getting out. "A friend needed help. I'm sorry for worrying you."

He caught himself. "Oh, you didn't. I mean, I was worried but not super, like you know..."

The awkwardness of it all made Lena was to throw up. She put a hand on his shoulder. "It's alright, Wes. Seriously, it's okay."

Lena was pleased at the smile that formed on Wes's lips. Before he could say anything, she heard someone behind her. 

"Lena!" Turning around, it was Naomi, the assistant. "Patrick wants to see you."

Patrick Kempe was the head of media and directory at the stadium. He had hired Lena personally three years back and they'd spoken in person all of four times since. his tall and slender face, matched with nearly hollow cheekbones and salt-and-pepper hair made him a little scary. She enjoyed their relationship--he had Naomi tell her when she was needed and assumed that Lena would do the job. No small-talk, no awkward conversations, just formal, necessary work. 

So one could understand the pecuilarity of this situation for Lena, but she swallowed her nerves and followed Naomi upstairs. 

_________________________________________

"Lena. Take a seat."

No hi or hello. It brought a small smile to her face despite her anxiety. 

"Hi, Patrick. What can I do for you?"

He sat at his wooden desk with papers scattered everywhere, evidence of his habit of overworking. 

A kind smile painted his lips. "Don't ask what you can do for me, ask what I can do for you."

The vague and somewhat eerie comment only confused Lena more. 

"I'm sorry, I don't follow."

Patrick handed her a folder before leaning back in his chair as Lena opened it up and raised an eyebrow. 

"Formula 1?" She nearly laughed. Four wheels was not  her thing. 

"One of the teams has an opening for a photographer/media assistant. They reached out to me and asked if I knew anyone. Of course I had to mention you, my star camera girl." Patrick seemed so proud of himself, so proud of his ability to have something so valuable. 

Lena let out a low chuckle. "I'm more than grateful for the opportunity, but I don't think cars are really my specialty."

"Nonsense. You're the most talented sports photographer I know." Patrick tsked. "I think this is a great opportunity for you."

She blinked. "Will all due respect, sir, I don't."

They paused in silence. Patrick stood and folded his arms behind his back as he glanced out his windows looking onto the field. 

"Listen, Lena. I understand that you want to stay where you are. Comfortability is most desirable out of all things. But...you are young. Twenty-three, you have so much time ahead of you." Patrick faced her. "You are too young to settle for what you are merely 'good' at. You must go out, be a kid, experience things. Don't waste your life here, Angelena."

If she weren't so exhausted she might've let a tear slip. 

"When I first met you, I knew you were different. I liked that you didn't need to be persuaded or bribed, you were happy and willing to do the work." Patrick gave her another solemn smile. "This is one of those times that I feel I must persuade you because I truly believe it is the right thing for you to do."

Lena watched him for a few moments. Sighing, she opened the folder again. "I...well, tell me what I will do, at least."

"Attagirl."

__________________________________________

"One year. Monthly payments. Paid-for expenses." Lena repeated. "All I do is take pictures?"

Patrick nodded and handed her another pamphlet.

It seemed to good to be true. Was it worth leaving her life behind worth all of this, though?

"Patrick, I really don't know." She flipped through the documents. "This is a lot."

He raised an eyebrow. "We talked about this." Pause. "You'll only be young once in your life. I thought you were a risk-taker? A thrill-chaser, if you will."

Lena knew he was right, and the longer she stared at the pamphlet in her hands, the more she could imagine her life. Maybe...maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

"How much is the pay again?"

He grinned, taking a pen and writing the number down on a paper before sliding it over to her. 

Lena's jaw dropped. "I'm sorry, what?"