Calculated [a Lestappen snippet]
267 days. That's how long it had been since I shared the podium with Max.
200 days since we had ended our situationship. We were meant to be more, meant to be moving forward. The memory of hope and broken promises still stings.
We kept every interaction civil so far this year. Spa was the first time we had stood next to each other during the pre-race national anthem.
Max broke the silence first, and I could not help but melt into old habits. Our conversations picking up like nothing ever happened. But that's how it always was with us.
Now I sit here post race in the cool down room after the Belgium Grand Prix. My body doing anything but as our knees brush on the couch. I had to remind myself Kimi was also here.
We watch the replay of my interaction with Oscar. How I did not get a penalty, I do not know.
"This one was ..." I start to say.
"Was calculated?" finishes Max.
I laugh awkwardly, allowing myself to steal a glance at him. He's beaming at me. It is blinding like the sun.
I pull my cap onto my head, hoping to brush away the tears forming in my eyes. The adrenaline from the race and Max's subtle compliment overwhelming my body with emotions.
I realise I need to create distance
"I did not come first. You should be in the middle," I say to Kimi as I move across to the other side of him.
I feel Max watching me. Dare I believe a flicker of sadness crossing his face. No, I must have imagined it. He is still smiling at me.
We make our way to the podium to receive our trophies. I start to panic.
Will he spray me? Should I spray him?
I will if he does it first. No, I should avoid him.
We pop the bottles and I focus on Kimi. I cant let Max back in after this time. He made it clear. Except today the lines started to blur again.
I can see Max aim at me from the corner of my eye. I cant help but spray him back. He is my kryptonite. My inchident.
Reality sets in as the bubbles dissipate. I make sure to be on Kimi's side for the podium photo. I refuse to give him an opportunity to hold my waist.
I lay in bed later that night. Unable to sleep as I over think our days interactions
I doom scroll and see the F1 socials posted Max's post race quote, calling my car a "Red Rocket". What is he doing speaking our inside jokes out loud!?
Oh that genuine laugh. It had been so long since I heard it. It fills me with warmth and agony at the same time.
His name flashes on my phone as a text notification comes through. It's Max.
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