Redline | L.Norris

thirty three

The paddock was still mostly quiet as the sun began to rise over the desert, casting long golden lines across the garages and glinting off the pit wall barriers. It would be a furnace soon, but for now, the air was almost gentle, dry and still, not yet carrying the roar of engines or the buzz of media.

Isla walked through the paddock alone, headphones around her neck, a coffee in one hand and her pass swinging around her lanyard. She had her sunglasses on, but her eyes were tired behind them. Focused. A little wary.

She turned a corner near the Red Bull motorhome and nearly collided with Max.

He blinked in surprise, holding his own protein shake in one hand, a banana half-eaten in the other.

"Morning," he said, almost cautiously.

"Hey," Isla replied, straightening her hoodie and taking a sip of her coffee. "Didn't expect anyone else up this early."

Max gave her a faint shrug. "Didn't sleep much."

"Same."

They stood in a brief silence, broken only by the distant clatter of equipment being moved on the grid. Isla shifted her weight. Max took another bite of banana.

Then, finally, he spoke again, quietly.

"You look better this morning."

Her brows rose. "Thanks, I think."

Max rolled his eyes. "I meant you don't look like you're going to pass out again. That's a compliment."

That made her pause. "Thought we weren't talking."

Max hesitated, then leaned against the side of the building, drink in one hand. "We weren't. But you're still my teammate. And I... probably shouldn't have said what I did in the data meeting."

Isla blinked. "Is that... an apology?"

He gave a half-smile. "Don't get used to it."

She looked at him more closely. Max's expression was unreadable, as always, but there was something softer in his posture. Less defensive. Maybe even... protective.

"I'm not trying to take anything from you," she said quietly. "You're Max Verstappen. Four-time World Champion. This is your kingdom."

"You didn't take anything," Max replied. "You earned every point. And I don't think I realized how hard you've been fighting for it. Not just on track."

Isla nodded, staring out at the still-empty pit lane. "It's been a long season."

Max pushed off the wall and stepped closer, voice dropping.

"You don't have to win today to prove anything to me, Isla."

She turned to look at him. "But you still want to beat me."

His smile deepened. "Obviously."

That broke the tension — not all of it, but enough. Isla laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Thanks for checking in," she said.

Max gave a little shrug like it wasn't a big deal, like the words cost him nothing, but his eyes lingered on her a second longer than usual.

"See you in the garage," he said, and with that, he disappeared around the corner, leaving Isla alone with the rising sun.

She stood there for another moment, the warmth beginning to build on her shoulders, and whispered to herself with a small smile,