BOOK 1 of 2.
Angst, fluff, spicy & sad stories for my fave drivers 🏎
All stories are between 1,800-6,000 words or more. I do not do y/n stories.
Mature themes, warning provided ⚡
Author's Note: This story was requested by reader: Sy_lovesperceval
The details aren't exactly how Vegas went.
Done in Max POV. ---------------------------------
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My hands were steady on the wheel, but my heart was pounding against my chest like it wanted to jump out of me. I could hear the muffled voices of the commentators, hyping up the tension as if I wasn't already feeling it.
"And here we go, folks, the race that could crown Red Bull driver, Max Verstappen a fourth consecutive championship...if he finishes ahead of Lando Norris today."
If. That two letter word carried more weight than anything else in my life at this moment. The lights above the grid counted down and the seconds stretched into eternity.
Red.
Red.
Red.
I inhaled sharply, trying to block out everything but the sound of my own breathing and the beating of my pulse. My eyes burned into the lights, waiting for them to change. With a final deep sigh, I let go of the tension in my body as I looked up once more.
Green.
"It's lights out and away we go here in Las Vegas!"
I slammed the throttle down, my car pushing forward. My body pressed back into the seat as the engine came to life and the world blurred into motion. First corner. I darted left, narrowly avoiding a jumble of cars on the inside. My tires burned as I held the line and pushed forward, overtaking three cars in the span of two straights.
"Verstappen is up three places already! What a start from the Dutchman!"
The adrenaline hit me like a wave, but so did the doubt. I couldn't help it. It's like my brain had become a radio and the negative thoughts were the sounds I couldn't tune out. 'Don't mess this up, Max. One mistake, and it's over. If you crash, if you falter, you lose everything.'
I gritted my teeth and pushed harder, shaking my head as if that would silence the noise. I was flying now, trying to catch the back of Lando's car. I could see the orange blur ahead of me, his lines perfect, his car steady. Too steady. He'd been fast all season and I hated that.
"Keep it clean, Max," GP said. His calm tone was supposed to ground me, but instead, it reminded me of how high the stakes were.
I clenched the wheel tighter. The Vegas Strip was a chaotic backdrop...flashing lights, neon signs, the sounds of the crowd. None of it mattered. All I could see was the track and the rear wing of Lando's car. I was closing in, corner by corner.
"You can do this," I said to myself.
But could I? Every lap felt like a lifetime. Memories of the last three years flooded my mind. Winning the first title in Abu Dhabi, the second with dominance, the third with consistency. But this? This felt different. The pressure was suffocating. The expectation, the headlines, the constant scrutiny...it all swirled in my head like a storm.
