Mystery ~ MV1

005. I Know You Though

[Mad Max]

It was the third and final free practice session before qualifying at the Monaco Grand Prix, and the energy in the paddock was buzzing with anticipation. The air in Monaco was always something unique, something rich and traditional to the air that just made everything ten times more surreal.

As the Red Bull garage crew scrambled to make last-minute adjustments to the car, I took a moment to step out and survey the bustling scene around me. I needed a breath from the busy garage, and despite the packed paddock, I felt refreshed as I stepped out.

Walking through the paddock, i noticed an unfamiliar face- which was weird because after about nine years in f1 I've come to recognize every face to a certain degree.

But I had never seen this woman before.

And I definitely wouldn't have managed to forget her.

Her eyes scanned the area with a curious intensity, like she knew what everything was her still needing to take it all in. She was tall, about an inch shorter than me, and even in her fitted blue button up blouse and black dress pants- the athletic build is noticeable.

Her long, dark brown hair is build back into a braid, pieces of hair frame a face with striking light green eyes that stand out against beautifully tanned skin. There was an effortless grace to her movements that immediately caught my attention.

Yeah, I definitely would've remembered seeing her face around the paddock.

As I approached her, she caught my eyes and I felt like she somehow knew every secret I didn't even know I had. I felt her eyes scan me, like she was already trying to process everything that was going to happen.

"Hi there," I said, flashing her a friendly smile. "I don't think I've seen you around the paddock before. I'm Max."

Her observational mask fell and a small chuckle broke free from her lips, warming my skin quickly than the bright Monaco sun. "I know who you are, Max Verstappen," she replied, the french accent I hear adds a captivating lilt to my name that makes my stomach do a weird flip. "Three time work champion, 60 wins, 111 podium places, 40 pole positions?"

The smile on my face widens when she starts to ramble facts about the person standing in front of her. Normally it's annoying, but it almost seems like she's unable to not say it. "Not very fair to know more about me than I know about you, is it?" I say it before I can stop myself, internally cringing at the stupid flirty comment I let slip by. I see her lips curve into a smile and I try to salvage my reputation to her, "And you are?"

"Melina," she said, extending a slender hand. "Melina Vincent. I'm a new photographer here, covering the race for a French motorsports magazine."

"It's nice to meet you, Melina," I replied, shaking her hand. Her grip was firm and confident, betraying a strength that seemed hidden her delicate appearance. "You look a bit lost by the way, which is fair- this place is pretty hectic."

She smiled, and there was a hint of mischief in her eyes. She doesn't skip a bit as hold up her camera and shakes her head. "Not lost. Just trying to find the perfect spot to capture the essence of this race. The Monaco Grand Prix is such a unique event, you know - the history, the glamour, the sheer challenge of navigating these streets, id like to do it justice."

"Well, if you're looking for a good photo op, you can't go wrong with the Red Bull garage," I suggested, my smile going awkward, gesturing towards our team's bustling workspace.

It's like I was scrambling to put together my usual confidence as it melted away under her gaze. It was like that it was judgement or condemning, it was intense. A sharp look in her eyes that made me feel a bit unprepared while she had everything accounted for.

But then she chuckled again, the sound sending a slight shiver down my spine. "The Red Bull garage, hmm? I'll add it to my potential places."

Before I could say anything else, my phone started ringing insistently. Glancing down, I saw it was GP, most likely calling to let me know it was time to get back to the garage and prepare for the final practice session.

I hang up the call, not ready to end my conversation with Melina, and look up at her again. "You know-" I start but my phone starts to go off again.

"You should probably get that," she jokes softly and nods to the ringing phone in my hands. I purse my looks together before signing, muttering a small apology to her before answering the call.

"Max where are you, it's-" I cut him off with a quick and mumbled, "I'll be right there", and then to apologize again to Melina for answering a call when we're talking but stop short.

She's gone.

Without a single trace of being there save for my memory of her intense gaze and warm laugh.

I look around, hoping for a glimpse or sight of her that proves she was even real and I haven't lost it, but find none. I frown, and even do a small turn to see where she walked off to.

But again, it's like Melina Vincent never even existed.