𝐒 𝐏 𝐑 𝐈 𝐍 𝐓 𝐄 𝐑 [max verstappen x oc]

eighteen

Although Lena lived in Monaco for over three years, she'd never taken it upon herself to actually attend the Grand Prix. Partly because tickets were way to expensive, also partly because of her distaste for car racing. But being there now, Lena felt like she was blending right in. 

She snapped a couple photos of Max and Checo standing by their cars, baklava's on and RedBull cans in their hands. It was ten minutes until formation lap, and Lena was glad it was Sunday--Peter was letting her stick around a few days after and get her own flight to Spain. Spain was a whole other story too-she could finally see her family again after so long. 

Lena had Monday and Tuesday all planned out--she was going to spend time with Wes in the city, get dinner, party, and on Tuesday evening there was a race. Her race. The adrenaline was already coursing through her veins. 

She walked up to Max's car and lifted her camera to take some more photos of him. He noticed her presence and looked down at her while he put his helmet on. 

Lena gave him a small smile. "Good luck."

Max gave her a nod in return before getting into his car and swarmed by engineers. Ever since Miami they had been awkward around each other--weird looks from Max, uncomfortable silences when they were alone, side glances. As much as Lena tried to ignore it, she found herself looking for him in rooms she walked into and it made her want to bang her head against a wall because she couldn't, for the life of her, understand why. This asshole--this dickhead who had been completely disrespectful and annoying for months was consuming her thoughts. And by the looks of it, he couldn't keep her off his mind either. 

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"What are you plans for tonight, Lena?" Checo asked. Him, Max and her were sitting in the SUV bringing them to the hotel after the race. Lena had left her bike parked in the lot outside of it because she suspected she would have to go back with them. They were both in a decent mood after Max's win and Checo getting third. There were implied celebrations. 

She shrugged from the passenger seat. "Not much. Hanging out with some friends from home, mostly. Why?"

"There's a bar we were heading to after we clean up to celebrate. Come along--a ton of RedBull people are joining us." Checo offered. Lena turned in her seat to smile at him. 

"I'm honored." She laughed. "Can I bring a friend?"

Checo waved his hand. "Of course. The more the merrier. Max is renting out the whole bar so we certainly have the room."

Lena glanced at Max, who was hiding behind his phone and leaning against the window. "That's nice of you, Max. Is it okay that I bring a friend?"

He looked up from his phone and flashed his eyes at her. "Sure. By all means."

That was Max-language for, "You can bring a friend, I don't mind". Lena pulled out her phone and typed a message to Wes. "Great, thank you."

"Mhm." Max mumbled back. 

When they got to the hotel, Lena made a bee-line to the parking lot and smiled at her sleek, black motorcycle resting against the rack. 

She hustled over and tightened her backpack around her arms before unlocking the bike. 

"So this is the bike I've heard about." 

Lena snapped around but sighed and relaxed at the sight of Max Verstappen. "You need to stop doing that--stop jumpscaring me."

"It's in my nature." He stolled over to her, still in his RedBull gear. "It's nice."

Still straddling the bike, she ran her finger across the shiny black paint. "My beauty. Spent a lot of money on her so I hope she would be."