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Max winced as the next wave of sickness and dizziness washed over him, causing him to stumble backwards against one of the counters in the Red Bull Garage. He couldn't afford for this to be happening now, not when he needed to get into the car for qualifying. There was just two races left; two final chances for him to grab the points needed to get him the championship that he'd been fighting for the entire year, and for most of his life. The general feeling of shittiness had been hanging over him for a few weeks now, but Max had put it down to the climate of the countries that they'd been racing in as well as a long few months finally catching up on his exhausted body. He could see both Helmut and Christian walking across the garage towards him, but Max couldn't bring himself to pretend that he was okay,
Max knew that he must look just as bad as he felt, as he curled his arms a little closer around his stomach, hoping that holding it would stop the somersault sensations which were currently making him consider running to the nearest bathroom. "You all right?" Christian asked, leaving Max with just enough time to mumble out a weak response of 'I don't know' before the team principle was pushing back with more questions, "You got that dizziness again? Have you been drinking okay? You hydrated?"
"Yeah," Max sighed, dropping his hands away from his stomach when the touch did nothing to settle it. He braced himself against the counter behind him, ready to push himself forwards in case the feeling of sickness changed to the need to be sick.
"You don't think it’s the lights?" Christian continued, leaning closer as the engineers around the car continued to prepare it for the session. Drivers were already out on the grid setting times, so Max needed the unpleasant feeling to go away.
"Yeah, I dunno, maybe." Max shrugged, the lights in the garage were blindingly bright for the engineers, but they were always like that. He could feel the concern seeping off Christian, something that was more than just a concern stemming from his driver not being able to race. Even after all the years, Max didn't quite know how to act when Christian treated him like a son, and offered him care and concern that his own father never had. "I don't need to throw up but..." Max explained, trying not to catch Helmut's stare. Where Christian could be concerned about him as a person, Helmut was more inclined to only care about him as a driver.
"You just feel a bit...Yeah," Max nodded his head at Christian's response, regretting it as soon as he did. His unsettled stomach threatened to turn into a wave of nausea, leaving Max with the need to grit his teeth tight in fear of vomiting on the spot. The Netflix camera's floating on the outside of the garage, their lenses aimed at the scene did nothing to help the situation; the last thing Max wanted was to be filmed by them throwing up. They would probably edit it to make it look like he threw up because of Lewis or something stupid like that.
"Okay, just sit down, have five minutes, drink some water. Okay?" Christian suggested. Max titled his head just softly to give a small nod, as the team principal continued, "We'll have John take a good look, do you want me to get him now?"
"After," Max stated. He needed to get in the car, and set a time in qualifying that would put him on pole. He needed to be on pole, and regardless of how sick he felt, he needed to beat Lewis. He also didn't fancy Netflix trying to stick their cameras at him if Christian went to get John now.
"Okay. I'll go let him know so that he can do some checks as soon as your finished."
If it was possible, Max felt even worse when he jumped out of the car and found himself being gently led away by Christian towards the team medic. He didn't address the crash into the wall that had cost them the spot on pole which would have been inevitable if it weren't for the mistake. Max didn't need to explain that it had happened because his stomach had twisted, and it had felt like he had been punched. He fought not to huff impatiently behind his face mask as he was subjected to an array of tests, fighting not to raise a sarcastic brow when his blood pressure reading was off the charts.
"Can you go provide a sample?" John asked, brandishing a piss pot at him. Max scoffed at the man, glancing between the plastic container and his serious expression. Formula 1 complied with the World Anti-Doping Agency's rules, and drivers were often rewarded with these little plastic cups or doctors brandishing syringes. Max didn't often know which one was worse, being jabbed countless times to meet their demand for blood or having to provide cups full of piss.
"Seriously?" Max huffed, turning his scowl from John to Christian, who had been hovering in the corner of the room watching as his driver was subjected to all his tests.
"Just to check your hydration levels, it’s not a drug test." John lifted his free hand in mock surrender as he pushed the piss pot out towards Max once more. Max huffed once more, snatching the cup from the man's hand before glaring between the two men as Christian piped up from his corner. "Check him for everything please John,"
"I'm not on drugs, I haven't even taken a paracetamol in the last year," Max felt his anger rising at the accusation, and despite all the years where he had been working on self-improvement, he still felt the familiar stab of shame that always bubbled up alongside his anger. He always felt like he was becoming like his father every time his anger threatened to boil up inside of him. It was something that he had been working on for a long time, but there were still moments where he felt like he was going back on everything that he had tried to improve about himself and his emotions.
"Okay, but what about sex? You been using condoms?" Christian continued pressing the subject, and this time the anger was joined by a flush of embarrassment.
"Both me and Daniel are clean, and neither of us have cheated." Max glared even as his cheeks burned crimson. Even after all those years, Max didn't think he'd ever forget the time Daniel stole his breath and claimed his heart. It was after first win at the Spanish Grand Prix, the after party leaving them both buzzing off champagne. Daniel had grinned at him with that stupidly huge smile, brandishing a condom at him with the comment, "Maxy, you'll need this tonight, Mr race winner." He was too drunk to know if it was the glint in Daniels’s eye when he said it or the way that the words had come out, but Max had been giddy and careless as he took his teammates words as a suggestion. He distinctly remembered curling his hands into the front of the older man's t-shirt and both of them leaning into the kiss that followed. They had their ups and downs like every couple, but they had been monogamous ever since that night.
"That's not what I'm suggesting Max."
"I think I'd know if I was pregnant," Max scoffed, hands instinctively coming to fold across his stomach. He knew that what Christian was suggesting was ridiculous, but even so he pressed the palm of his hand against his abdomen. He had lost some of the sharper lines that he'd had over the years, but Max had shrugged it away assuming it was due to the new training plan or because he was no longer had the metabolism he had when he was seventeen.
"Well considering the number of times I've caught you and Daniel with your pants down, let’s not take the chance on that." Christian chimed in, amusement lacing his tone.
"Fine," Max snapped letting his hands drop away from his stomach. He snatched the small sample cup that John was still offering towards him before levelling his glare at his team principal, "You owe me a donut when this comes back negative."
"If it comes back negative, I'll buy you a box, now go."
"Well" Max frowned after the longest five minutes of his life. He bobbed his leg impatiently waiting for John to reveal to both of them the results from the unnecessary test.
His frown deepened as he saw the look that John exchanged with Christian before he heard the team principal’s deep sigh. John stated slowly, "Well it looks like congratulations are in order, we'll need to get some tests arranged so we can find out just how far along you are, and for obvious reasons we can’t get those tests here."
"Fuck. I'm not quitting. I am racing in Abu Dhabi." Max jumped up from his seat, his stomach twisting for all different reasons. He was so close to reaching his dream, the dream that had been drilled into his head since the first time he had climbed into a kart. He hadn't ever anticipated this happening, even though he and Daniel had stopped being as careful with the condoms after the first few months; they still used them most of the time so easier clean-up but there were the times where they didn't have any to hand or they were too eager to stop. They had spoken about having kids in the future, but they had agreed that it would be distant future, when they weren't racing in a different country every other weekend.
"Max" Christian began, but Max shook his head violently cutting him off with a sharp, 'No,' before the man could continue. This wasn't a subject which was open discussion for him; Max wasn't going to let someone stop him from achieving this.
"We have to think about your safety here, we can't in good faith let you in the car if your pregnant," John offered in support for whatever argument was hanging on the tip of Christians tongue. The team principals face was a mixture of different emotions, and Max could practically see the reluctance going through the older man. Christian didn't want to let him stop racing, but equally he knew that John was right; the press and the FIA would have a field day if they found out that a team had willingly let a pregnant person get behind the wheel of a car that averaged at 200mph.
"You can't honestly expect me to not race when we are on the same points. I've been racing already so it’s just two more." Max snapped back, his anger rising as he watched the sympathetic wince cross the faces of the two other men.
"The last thing I want to do is give this victory to Lewis, but I have to think about you Max." Christian grimaced around his own words. No one in the team wanted Lewis to win this year especially after how hard they had fought against the Mercedes.
"Then let me race," Max suggested, causing another simultaneous sigh from the team principal and team medic. John looked like he was resisting all urges to reach out and shake him hard in an attempt for him to gain some sense. The only thing that made sense to Max right now was to climb into that car tomorrow and in Abu Dhabi and try and win. They were so close in both the constructors and drivers championship, and it was what the sport needed after seven years of Mercedes dominance.
Christian pinched the tip of his nose as he exhaled loudly through his nose. Max fought not wince at the sound; his father did that whenever he was about to flip, and even after all the years it was still a simple action that unsettled him. Having his father in the paddock more as they approached the end of the season and the possibility of a championship had started to eat at his nerves more than the stress of the sport had. "And what are you going to say to Daniel?" Christian asked pointedly.
Max shrugged his shoulders. He knew that Daniel would be split in his opinion on the matter, wanting him to stop for his own safety, but also knowing that he couldn't possibly stop when he was this close. "I'll tell him after."
"He'll fucking love that." Christian snorted shaking his head in disbelief.
"I don't care."
"Okay, but we are heading back to the UK straight after the race so that we can get you checked before we head to Abu Dhabi. No arguments!" John offered reluctantly. The mumbled 'thank you' was all that Max could offer in that moment, but he appreciated just how much trouble these two men were willing to go for him in this moment. The FIA would be furious that he raced whilst pregnant, but hopefully they could fudge the details and pretend that Max only found out after Abu Dhabi.
Max was exhausted as he slumped into the private doctor’s surgery on the Monday morning, amazed at how Christian had managed to arrange this appointment on a Saturday night from halfway round the world. Daniel had snorted, mumbling 'Unlucky,' against his lips in a parting kiss when Max had made up an excuse for the quick dash back to the UK. Apparently, his lie that Red Bull had called an emergency strategy meeting at the head office was believable, and Max hoped that Daniel wouldn't run into Checo or anyone else in the team before he left for the flight to Abu Dhabi.
John, Christian had ferried Max onto his private jet as soon as they had finished with all the media responsibilities and the multiple cameras had been packed away. The late hour, the long flight and what was apparently 'morning sickness' had Max falling asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow in the Horner family’s spare room. The sickness reared its head again after only a few hours of sleep, leaving Max scrambling for the bathroom. What little food that he had eaten over the last twenty-four hours came back up with a vengeance; Max wondered why he hadn't realised something was wrong sooner when he had been intermittently throwing up for weeks. After his stomach had stopped rolling in discomfort, Max rested his head against the cool porcelain, hand scrambling for the handle at the knock on the bathroom door.
"I've got some ginger-biscuits here for you, or Geraldine's made some breakfast if you want some before the appointment," Christian offered calmly through the wooden door. Max felt his stomach twist at the suggestion, as he forced himself to stand up from his half-crouched position. He scrubbed a hand down his face, before rubbing the sleep from his eyes and blanching at the taste that lingered in his mouth form vomiting.
"No thanks," Max called in response, as he grabbed the spare toothbrush that had been left out for him on top of a pile of fresh towels. He remembered the first few times he stayed at the Horner house, and how welcoming Geri was and how much she had tried to make him feel comfortable around them. Slowly he had learned to drop a few of his shields, and more often than not if he had work in the UK when Daniel didn’t, he would stay with the team principal and his family.
"Okay, appointments at 10." Christian called, before the sound of footsteps faded away from the bathroom door. Max stared at himself in the mirror, basking in the moment of solitude he examined his reflection. His eyes were bloodshot from the mix of lack of sleep, and violent sickness; the colour highlighting just how deep the shadows under his eyes were. His cheeks were pale and the skin tight against his bone structure, presumably because of how little he had managed to keep down recently. Max inhaled sharply before gathering the courage to pull his t-shirt over his head to look at the rest of his body. Where his cheeks were taut, his stomach was practically unchanged to how it had always been. He slid a hand caressingly over his abdomen, frowning at the subtle change that he had failed to notice; it wasn't a bump like he had expected to suddenly wake up with, but there was a soft swell that could easily be misplaced as being the after-effects of a large meal. He couldn't believe the truth, that inside his belly was his and Daniel's baby.
"Do you know approximately the date of conception?" The doctor who'd introduced herself as Madeline asked as she examined the results that John must have emailed the office. Max resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he readjusted the facemask, tugging it back up his nose. Thankfully he was alone in the office, Christian had dropped him off there before heading to a nearby coffee shop to stay out of the way until the appointment was over.
"No, I didn't even know. I've been feeling dizzy and sick on and off for about three months. I just put it down to the temperature and stuff of where we've been." Max shrugged his shoulders, resisting the urge to let his hand slide to his stomach. Ever since he had touched his stomach that morning, all he wanted to do was lay his hand there.
Madeline hummed low in her throat in response to Max's comment, her eyes seeming to flicker down to where his hands twitched in his lap, before she clapped her hands together with a smile, "Okay, just lift your shirt up and we can have a look and find out for you."
"Is it okay if I don't look. We just need to know if it’s okay for me to race on Sunday. I don't want to see without having D... my partner with me." Max stumbled over his words as he tugged his shirt over his head and moved to lie on the bed as silently directed by the doctor.
"Of course," Madeline smiled warmly at him, as she squeezed the ice-cold gel onto his stomach without warning. Max gasped in surprise, catching a glimpse of mischief in the doctor’s expression as she pretended not to have seen his reaction. He wasn't going to grouch about her bedside manner, because she had angled the ultrasound screen away so that only she could see the images that appeared as she pressed the wand against his skin. Max blinked up at the ceiling instead of watching the doctor, as she offered commentary. "You're just starting to show, and now let’s find this little one.... Well, okay, wasn't expecting that."
"What. What is it? Is everything okay?" Max panicked, pushing himself up onto his elbows, accidently pushing the wand being pressed into his stomach even harder against his body. He winced at the stab of pain that occurred before Madeline pulled back slightly, blinking at him in surprise.
"Yes, sorry for alarming you there Max. You're further along than I would have expected," Madeline offered as a carefully prosed explanation as she considered her words even with the momentary shock. Max still felt his heart racing against his chest as he clutched at the edge of the bed. He felt physically sick, not in the way that he had been plagued with for the last few weeks, but something deep inside his gut that felt far too much like guilt for him to feel comfortable with.
"How far along?" Max choked out.
"Judging by baby's development and size, you're looking close to five months."
Max felt his heart sink, and his stomach rolled unpleasantly. He genuinely panicked thinking that he was about to throw up on himself in the middle of the doctor’s office before the sickness retreated leaving the sharp guilt that grew inside of him. He felt like a failure, and all the times that he'd promised himself over the years that he wouldn't grow up to be a father like his was. But here he was, oblivious to the fact that he'd had a little baby growing inside of him for five months. Max wanted to sob in shame, he was going to be an awful father, and this was the first proof of that fact. "Shit, I've been drinking."
"Black out drunk drinking?" Madeline continue, her tone shifting to what was assumedly her professional care voice.
"I mean no, but..." Max grimaced, but he'd been on the podium often enough this year and the prosecco they now handed out in place of the real champagne still tasted good and after a good race there was nothing better than gulping deeply from the oversized bottle. It wasn't just on the podiums, it was the bottles of beer he and Daniel allowed themselves with dinners occasionally, and the three bottles of wine that they had consumed with their anniversary dinner only a few weeks ago.
"I promise that the occasional drinking will not have harmed your child, but you should refrain from doing so starting now," Madeline offered before telling him to lie back down with a single raised brow. Max flushed under her gaze, but dropped dutifully back down as silently instructed. The wand was pressed back against his stomach, and Max tried to distract himself from the pressure being applied as he blinked up at the ceiling and stared at the soft green walls. There was no clock hanging, but Max assumed that that was because most expecting parents would be more focused on looking at their little wonders on the ultrasound screen instead of doing anything to avoid looking in that direction. Madeline's gentle voice broke him from counting the ceiling tiles again, and Max lifted his head from the bed to glance down at her as the pressure on his stomach disappeared, "Okay, baby is looking good. I've printed some pictures off for you, I know you don't want to look at them yet, but they're for when you and your partner do."
"Thank you," Max mumbled, as he accepted the envelope that Madeline had placed the prints in.
"We'll get you booked in for another appointment in the middle of next week. As a medical professional I strongly advise you not to resume racing." Madeline smirked as Max opened his mouth ready to complain or try to persuade her otherwise not to ban him from climbing back into the car for the first practise on Friday, "Good luck this weekend, you deserve the championship." The doctor’s eyes twinkled at him as she smirked knowingly, Max's complaint dying on his tongue.
Max felt like the photographs hidden in the pocket of his suitcase were a weight resting on his shoulder as they caught the flight to Abu Dhabi. Christian had been equally as shocked when Max whispered that he was 5 months gone, when he was picked up outside of the doctor’s surgery. It threw a spanner in the plan, and solidified just how dangerous it was the team to let him into the car. Max was the one who put his foot down, arguing that it was his safety and his wellbeing that was at risk, so he should be the one to determine whether he was climbing behind the wheel. The metaphorical weight only grew heavier when he knocked on the door of the hotel room that Daniel had messaged him. His boyfriends wide smile and greeting kiss made Max feel like he was a horrible person once more, and that feeling only grew as the days progressed. Daniel was a saint, thinking that Max's bad moods and moments of contemplative silence were a result of the stress of the season and the fact that he was going into the final race with it all to play for. The upcoming race played a part, but it was the giant secret and the risks that he was taking with both his and the babies health.
On the Thursday night, knowing that tomorrow he was going to do something that would be unforgivable if things went wrong, Max curled himself tightly against the Australian man's side as they pulled the duvet up towards their shoulders. The air conditioning was blasting out icy air, a refreshing change from the dry heat that wrapped around them as soon as they stepped outside of the hotel. One hand curled around Daniel's define abdomen, and the other rested on his own feeling the subtle swell beneath his hand.
"You okay?" Daniel asked, lips brushing against his forehead, as the arm circling his shoulders squeezed him closer. Max hummed nudging his head underneath the older man's chin. He could feel the burst of laughter vibrating through Daniel's chest as he praised, "You're going to drive amazingly. No matter what happens I'm going to be so proud of you."
"Just promise me that you won't hate me," Max whispered against his partner’s warm skin. He wanted to feel his arms around him, holding him close, just in case his stupid decision for what he was about to do this weekend was the wrong one.
"I can't hate you Max. You've driven me crazy so many times, but I promise I have never hated you."
It was madness and chaos, and utterly unbelievable. He had resigned himself to coming in second in the race, there was nothing he could do to catch up and keep pace with the Mercedes, and then one safety car and the resulting decision changed everything. After an entire season it had come down to a final race, and in that final race it came down to a final lap. One lap to determine who was going to be the 2021 World Champion, and then he was in front and after the longest minute of his life he was crossing the line. The chequered flag was waving for him, and what looked like all the Red Bull team were hanging off the fence cheering and screaming with him. This wasn't just his championship it was all of theirs.
The fireworks, the screams of joy echoing in through the radio and his own shouts of delight. There was Alex screaming at him, somehow having managed to grab someone else's headphones, and there was Christian declaring him the world champion. His mechanics were there on the grid, lifting him in the air as they hugged him all. His father’s arms pulled him into one of the few hugs that the man had ever given him; affection was not something that he ever expected from Jos, and despite all of the times that Daniel told him to say fuck you to the man, Max couldn't help but wrap his arms tightly around him like all the times he had wanted he had wanted to do so as a child. The hug that he got from Christian was worth more than Jos' though; Christian had been like a father-figure to him for the last six years, offering care and advise that Jos never did. There was a sea of staff in Red Bull uniforms, all of them as ecstatic as he was. There were tears, not just in his eyes but in the eyes of Christian and his dad, and a dozen other people that he could immediately see. But the best part was the fluttering in his stomach reminding him that it wasn't just himself who had been behind the wheel.
"Maxy!" Daniels’s shout had Max whipping around to find the Australian man amongst the crowds of people. Mechanics and most of the press had been kept on the other side of a barrier set up underneath the podium, so it was easy to spot the tall man in the bright blue driver suit rushing towards him. All the cameras be dammed, Max didn't care as he threw himself into the arms of his lover, sobbing loudly as strong arms circled around his waist before resting on his lower back as he found himself being pulled into the air. Instinctively he wrapped his legs around him, and if they weren't both still wearing their helmets, Max knew he would have kissed Daniel right there and then. "World Champion!" Daniel screeched in delight before lowering Max back down to the ground. Their time for celebrating would be later, after all the podiums and the interviews and the cameras.
Daniel was already changed out of his race suit when he returned to Max, jogging over to him when he was on his way back to his driver’s room after the podium celebration. Max was sticky from the sprays of the 'champagne', but he hadn't drunk any this time, instead encouraging Christian to take huge gulps of his celebratory bottle. Cameras were still everywhere, and Max snorted at the cheesy grin and middle finger that Daniel shot at the Netflix camera's as they rushed to approach. None of the red bull team stopped Daniel from walking into their allocated building, most of them stopping to clap him on the shoulder or to fist bump him before they greeted Max with the same enthusiasm that they'd had out in the pitlane. Celebrations were already starting, bottles of beer, bottles of champagne and the obligatory red bull cans were scattered across all the table surfaces, and nearlly everyone had a drink in their hands as they came over to congratulate Max.
Behind the closed door of his driver’s room, Max finally sunk into the older man’s arms and received the best prize of the night: Daniel's kiss. Max melted into the other man's touch, sighing against his lips as arms circled his sticky suit. "World Champion, what a title!" Daniel whispered against his lips as they broke apart, and even though he couldn't see it, he could feel the other man's smile against his.
"Do you know what's an even better title?" Max whispered, the butterflies in his stomach turning into a whirlwind. he needed to tell him, and there was no better time like the present. He waited for the hum he got in response before he continued, "Daddy."
"What," Daniel startled, pulling back so that he could look Max in the eye. Max was thankful that his arms still stayed wrapped around his ruined race suit, lessening the burst of panic that rushed through him, chilling him to the bone.
"I'm pregnant." Max announced softly and he realised that this was the first time he had actually said those words since he had seen John's paling face the week before. It brought a sense of reality to the situation, and for the first time Max could imagine holding a miniature version of himself and Daniel in his arms. He was going to be different to his father; if their child wanted to race, he would be there to offer support instead of being an overbearing shadow who only criticised their child's mistake instead of praising their triumphs.
He could see the surprise in the older man’s eyes, and he braced himself for the angry tone that didn't come. Daniel blinked at him in bewilderment, as his eyes flickered between his face and his stomach. "What, Max that's..."
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner,"
"How long have you known?" Daniel asked with a frown that Max knew was only going to grow deeper when he heard the truth. Hands that had been on his side dropped to his stomach, and Max wished that he had thought to get out of the alcohol-soaked suit before he had made the announcement so that the touch could have been against skin instead of damp fire-proof fabric.
"A week." Max winced at the loud exhale that Daniel gave out. He missed the feel of the hands on his body as the Australian man pulled back, fisting his hands into his hair as he huffed in exasperation. "Fuck Maxy,"
"I needed to race," Max tried to offer as an explanation, grimacing at the flash of hurt on his boyfriend’s face.
Daniel sighed loudly once again, his hands falling away from the grip on his hair, and returning to the subtlest swell of Max's stomach. The younger man inhaled sharply at the touch, his hands reaching out to encircle Daniel's wrists. "I know, you needed to race and even though I'm fucking annoyed I can't be angry because I would have done the same thing. The thing that matters is we're going to have a baby."
"We're going to have a baby." Max repeated slowly, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as Daniel slowly stroked his hand across his relatively flat stomach before the older man snorted in disbelief.
"Oh god its gonna look like you’re doing a Rosberg."
The last thing anyone ever wanted to be compared to was Nico Rosberg. Max had always considered it a coward’s way out, quitting straight after winning a championship and not having to face your opposition comparing back with a vengeance the next year. He only knew of a few of the details that had escaped the Mercedes garage about the fall out between the two former friends, but even so Max assumed that there was more to that story than anyone else would ever know. Max paused before admitting the next truth to the older man, "Not quite, hopefully I'll only miss the first 3 or 4 races. of next year."
"Max..."
"I'm about 5 months gone," Max admitted, quickly jumping into his next comment as he saw the flash of disbelief run across Daniel's face, "I've got scan photos in my suitcase. I've not looked at them, I wanted us to see the baby for the first time together."
Max gasped in surprise as the hands on his stomach returned to their original position on his sides, as he was pulled back against the older man's chest. Lips found his and, stole the little remaining breath in his lungs. He hadn't been expecting this, and to "Christ Maxy, you drive me crazy but there is no one in the world that I would rather have a baby with." A sob fell from Max's lips as he was pulled back into the crushing embrace, lips finding lips. Daniel gasped against his skin, teeth nipping gently at Max's bottom lip, "I love you, even if you do crazy shit. I assume Christian knows?"
"Don't talk about Christian when you should be kissing me." Max growled, working one hand up to the back of Daniel's neck to pull him back against his lip and silence the name of his team principal.