-F1 DRIVERS AS BOOK TROPES
Max Verstappen as “from hate to love”
You loved your job. It was your dream since you were little to be able to work in the world of Formula 1. So when, after many years studying and doing minor jobs, the Red Bull team offered you a position as a press officer with them, you didn't doubt your response. You were going to work for one of the best teams on the grid with a good salary. Basically you were going to live among cars and tires traveling from country to country. It sounded like a true paradise.
Although thanks to Max Verstappen it had almost become hell.
You didn't even understand what you had done to him to make him hate you so much. During your first days working with him everything had gone well between the two of you, you could even have a decent conversation. But after a few months of working with him, his attitude had completely changed, to the point that the only thing he directed at you were bad looks and unpleasant words. At that time, his way of treating you had hurt you, because you would say that you had developed a little crush on the Dutch driver.
At first you had tried to understand him, the world of F1 was tiring at times and could affect the drivers, but when the only reaction you received from Max when trying to be nice were bad answers, you too reached your limit. You didn't remember when your breaking moment had been, but now you knew that you tried to hate Red Bull's golden boy the same way he hated you. You put that stupid crush aside and stuck to doing your job, also putting aside any attempt to get close to him.
Max had noticed how you had begun to distance yourself in some way, no longer trying to greet him in the mornings in the paddock or trying to encourage him so that he wouldn't hate going to interviews and press conferences so much.
He was an asshole and he knew it was his fault.
Max hated you. But he didn't hate you because he didn't like you or because you did something to him. In reality it was quite the opposite. Max hated you because he wasn't able to understand how you could attract him so much. He didn't know if they were those smiles so bright that they almost made him fall to his knees and that now he never saw anymore. Or as always you were attentive to what he needed even though that wasn't even your job.
To be honest with himself, Max hated the fact that he didn't really hate you at all. And he had screwed up.
Plus, to top it off, Max had screwed up even more today. It seemed like every time he thought about trying to change something with you it made him do some horrible gesture that the Dutchman scolded himself for later.
He didn't want to drop his troubles and his bad mood on you. In anyone's eyes his career hadn't been the least bit bad. For God's sake, he had come second.
But that definitely didn't work for his father, so when Max, who was already disappointed for not having won, saw his father's face when he got out of the car, not even the congratulations of his team or the double podium could change how his sour mood. And you were the one who had to suffer it first hand.
When you approached him about to lead him to the post-race interviews, you already knew you were going to be a tough sell today.
“Max” you said his name as you followed him. He was already late for interviews and you know he doesn't hate leading to a fine that he wouldn't make the team happy.
"Max!" Your scream stopped him and he turned sharply to you.
"What?" His voice sounded sharper than you had ever heard before.
"You have to go to the interviews" you were exhausted from repeating the same phrase that he already knew by heart.
"Screw the fucking interviews." With that he turned and followed the path to his pilot's room. You followed him without thinking twice.
“Hey, listen to me. I know you're not having the best day of your life, but you have to go through the interviews. If only to give reporters dirty looks. Do it and that's all for today."
"Yeah. And I'll just have to listen to how they repeat my father's face over and over again for having lost the race,” he complained, plopping down on the couch in his room while he ran his hand over his forehead.
“Come on Max, you can't even call it losing. You came second. It's a good result ”you claimed him without fully understanding the reason for his mood. You thought you knew more or less here the issue was going, but if he didn't speak you weren't going to get involved.
"Yeah, my father clearly doesn't think so" he looked at you letting out a sarcastic smile before covering his face with his hands again.
You let out a defeated sigh. In the years that you knew Max you had been able to see that his father's opinion was very valuable to him and, in your opinion, Jos Verstappen was a real idiot who did not know how to value his son.
Seeing Max's defeated figure, something that you considered empathy entered your body, so you walked over to sit next to the Dutchman, leaving a small space between you. Max uncovered his face and looked at you when he noticed your closeness. You let him be the one to decide if he wanted you to leave or not, and after he hesitated for a moment, he seemed to decide on the last option.
Slowly, Max brought his body closer to yours, closing the little space that was left, and hugged you. At first it was a little tense and uncomfortable, especially because of your surprise, but then you let yourself relax and hugged the boy a little tighter, letting him rest his head in the space between your shoulder and your neck.
“Thank you” was Max who spoke. His voice sounded weird from having his face hidden in your shoulder.
“Wow. I think it's the first time in all these years I've heard you say that.” Even though it was a joke, there was a bit of pain in your tone.
“Yeah, sorry about that. I had no right to treat you badly all these time” Max apologized. He didn't know if it was because of the vulnerability of the moment or because he was too lost in the smell of your perfume, but maybe now was his time to fix things.
"Do not worry, everything is fine. But I would appreciate it if you stop being a headache every time you have interviews" you reproached him.
Max laughed and his laughter tickled your skin. You realized then that you hadn't separated yet, but you were comfortable and it didn't seem like Max had any intention of separating from you either. You would have to have a long talk with Christian about why his driver hadn't appeared at any conference.
You remained silent for a while longer until Max spoke again.
“Can I take you on a date? You know, to make up for how I've behaved this time…” his voice sounded more doubtful as he finished the sentence.
“If you promise me that you are going to attend all your appointments without complaining, and that you are going to tell Christian that it is your fault that neither of us are doing our job right now, I might think about it.”
