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They were like a ghost in the pit of Formula One. Everyone saw them like a piece of furniture, a constant that stayed unchanging. That’s what they were - constant. No one spoke about them, no one photographed them. Like a big shared secret, even the media abstained from ever considering them an icon before their lens.
Yet, history showed them throughout the years. The 10th september 1961, Monza. Wolfgang von Trips collided with Jim Clark, passing away in the accident. They were there, seen directing medical health and other advisors, just barely visible in the background.
That same Italian grand prix, nine years later, they were there again. The horrible day that took Jochen Rindt.
Some people considered them a bad omen yet that sentiment had died out over the time. Their body unchanging, their mind staying sharp. Having seen death for so many times, they had become an audible figure, greatly advocating for safety. So when refueling had been reinstated in 1994, they were greatly angered and fearful for the drivers lives.
For the years they’d spent watching over the races, chatting with sponsors and consulting staff, they’d always stay with one team for a season. Be it a successful one or one on the decline - they didn’t judge in any way. They’d frequently chat with Niki Lauda, seeing him grow old over the years was rough but they were very glad to have him around. He was still a man of the old mindset, less caring about their origins and more about their personality. And money, after all, finance was his origin.
That day in 1994, they sat with the Benetton mechanics. Benneton was a great team for them to be around, so young and riddled with fresh ideas and talent. Niki Lauda, a frequent yet unseen guest was visiting them again. He didn’t care too much for the team, just appearing for their old friend.
Slowly he settled onto one of the chairs they had placed around, letting out a sigh. “Y/N, truly am I jealous of you sometimes.”
Y/N laid their head to the side, grinning. Their currently very fashionable pinned up hair falling to the side. They were such a victim to trends, always following along or partaking. Trends were a good way to hide or disappear under.
“Aging sucks, you know that?” Niki cursed, sorting his iconic red hat.
With a chuckle, Y/N punched his shoulder. “Shouldn't you head back to Ferrari? You’re their advisor, not ours. And I bet you 20 Mark that nobody wants the enemy in their pit.”
He looked at her with an offended face. “This old man walks all the way to meet you and what do you do? Tell me to fuck off. Also ‘not ours’? You change allegiances faster than underwear.”
They shook their head. “Niki, you know how it is. I can’t stay long anywhere. Also, what are you talking about, old man? What are you, barely 45?”
“I look old compared to you, you know. This face doesn’t make me look like an icon of vitality.”
“Can’t you send Gerhard over? He’s more fun than you.”
Niki cursed again. Y/N would always tease him like that.
With a serious expression he turned towards them again. “That Schumacher..”
“Go on Niki, speak your words.”
“You are very annoying, did anyone tell you that?”
"Absolutely. Stirling Moss would always banter with me.”
He cursed again. “Anyway, that Schumacher guy. Has he got a long contract? Because I think we could use a driver like that. Jean isn’t the youngest anymore and Gerhard also could use a break, I think.”
“Want to steal our driver? No way in hell! Leave right now!”
Y/N jokingly lifted Niki out of his chair, taking one of the brooms to shoo him away. He came to a quick standstill, however. His face was serious again. “Y/N, i’ve known you awhile. Whenever you stay so glued to a team, something happens. What will-”
His words were cut off by them whistling a tune. The chain by Fleetwood Mac.
He sighed, finally leaving.
Y/N took the chance to head into the garage, “What’s Upping” a few of the mechanics and sending Michael a nod. Finally they had reached their target, young reserve driver Jos Verstappen. Or half reserve driver, since Benneton originally had set their horses on JJ Lehto. He was just lacing up his boots, looking in the air with a concentrated expression. He knew this race would not be his to shine. This was the German GP of 1994, the homerace of driver number 1, Michael Schumacher.
They just padded his shoulder with a constrained expression. Jos knew, this meant something bad would happen. He hoped it just wouldn't hit him.
As destiny however had planned before his prayers, he was the one incurring it’s wrath. Refueling gone wrong, his body on fire. Y/N had stood in the pits watching, the flames reflecting on their eyes. Afterwards Niki had approached them again, his lips pressed into a stern line. “Will there be more of this crap, this season?”
Y/N looked up at him in pain. “You better steel your heart Lauda. Because I already did.”
Multiple smaller incidents but nothing could overshadow the pain left in everyone's hearts. The loss of Senna and Ratzenberger. Afterwards, Niki had reconsidered his friendship with Y/N. They were almost like a harbinger of doom. In some way it was comforting however. He knew they’d tell him if he were to get hurt.
In 1997, at one such Grand Prix he had seen them again. The hairs on his arms standing up, cold shivers running down his back. Y/N just comforted them. “Nothing bad this time, Niki. I’m here to meet our future.”
“Our future?” He asked.
“Come and see” was their reply, leading the dazzled man up to the Tyrrel pit box. There, a soft baby's cry could be heard. A little red faced thing was there, wrapped into a soft blanket, looking very young.
“Hello Jos!” Y/N had exclaimed. “I brought a friend to see your youngling!”
The man had looked up in surprise at Niki Lauda standing there, staring at his son. “Uhm.” With a still unsure expression he slowly lifted the babe up. “Nice to meet you, Niki. This is my Son, MaxEmilian.”
Niki took the baby for a moment, just as unsure as the fresh baked father before handing it to Y/N. They gingerly held it, staring into those little, still so young looking eyes. Their eyes darting towards Jos for a moment before going back to little Max. “You will have a hard early life, little one. I wish I could help you but I cannot, always destined to be a bystander.” They lifted one of the fingers which the baby seemed to follow. “But I know that you will prevail, proving yourself. If there’s anyone that can be considered our future, that’ll be you.”
5 years later at the Japanese Grand Prix, Y/N was seen sitting in the Minardi Hospitality. There they were playing with a little child, just a bit red faced than before. Max was pushing the vintage toy cars that Y/N had given them around. Niki stood beside them, judging those cars.
“Y/N, did you buy them in an antique shop?”
“Antique?” They were offended. “I only bought them a few years ago, I just knew I’d need them.”
“Define ‘a few years ago’. I know you and I count in very different ways.”
They seemed to ponder. “I remember buying them with Giles, back when he heard he was going to be a father. So uh.. Maybe thirty?”
“God Y/N…”
“Wait, that’s the wrong ones. Those i gave to Michael for Mick. These are others.”
Niki cursed again. “Y/N, please. Consider my blood pressure.”
“I think i remember. It’s only a few more years. It was Graham who had picked them out, you know. I don’t have taste in such things.”
He pinched the skin between his eyebrows, sighing loudly. “I really wish you would act reasonable once in your life.”
“I definitely did that once before at least.”
“Tell me then!”
“I’d rather not. The date might shock you.”
"Goddammit."
At that moment, two kinds of toy cars hit their leg. Little Max had encountered little Mick who was barely out and about. Both had combined their set of race cars, now pretending to play ‘Grand Prix’ with a route made out of tossed cable ties and napkins. Most likely, Max was actively playing cars and Mick was just pushing things around with a little toddler grin on his face. “Y/N, you’re in the way!” Little Max complained with an angry voice, letting his car repeatedly drive against their legs.
They looked up in surprise. “Sorry Max, I’m moving.”
Stepping to the side, Niki questioned again. “Y/N, why are you stuck to these kids?”
They sighed. “They’ll have it rough, in different ways.”
“Doesn't everybody?”
“Oh Niki, you just don’t know.”
“Well obviously, I can’t know if you don’t tell me.” Y/N tried to interject. “I know, I know. You can’t tell me. We’ve been through this spiel many times.
That day, Y/N had left for quite a while. They’d stayed at Jaguar when Niki was there, stayed with Red Bull for a moment. Then they disappeared from the scene, only returning in 2015. It was the first race of the season and there they stood, right before the Toro Rosso hospitality, requesting to go in. Some youngin checking passes looked at them in confusion. “Sorry, uhm… You can’t go in. That pass, it’s ancient, you know. Gotta update it.”
Y/N stared at their entrance pass in confusion. Bernie Ecclestone had given it to them right after his takeover. Full access to everything. “I can’t even scan it! And look at that paper. Where’d you even drag this old thing out from?”
Y/N was purely baffled, eyes trained on the young man ahead. Things really had changed. As they wanted to speak up, one of the older employees noticed them standing there. He was still there from the good old Minardi Days.
“Y/N, is that you?”
He cursed, approaching them. “Dang, people were right. You really don’t change.”
They chuckled while the youngin stared in confusion.
“Go away, Peter. Maybe get this badge remade. Don’t worry about it, the FIA knows what’s going on. At least I hope so?”
The youngin quickly rushed off. This whole thing was way too strange for him.
“So Y/N, what finally made you return? We’ve all turned old.” He said, patting his now well shaped stomach.
“I heard Max is making his Grand Prix debut today. I came to greet him.”
The man chuckled. “Right. Him and little Mick were always your favourites. Come, I’ll lead you.”
The new pit had awed Y/N. So much technology, so many things with a different appearance becoming almost unrecognizable. Yet there in the back stood a person they were sure to always recognise.
“Hello Max, it’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
Max jumped up as he heard that voice. His face was full of surprise, eyes so wide.
“Y-Y/N”
Said person smiled.
“It’s been ages! Where have you been?”
“Here and there, you know. Seeing more of the world.”
Max looked at them again, his eyes shaking. “It’s my F1 debut today, you know…”
“I know. That’s why I’m here.”
“Really? For me?” he looked so hopeful, deep lyiing hurt glittering in his eyes.
“Yes.”
“Then-”
Before finishing he rushed away, returning with a little beat up Box. “Look!”
He opened the Box, revealing a few now very beat up toy boxes and letters.
“Thank you for these, Y/N. They helped me stay true to my goal. Keeping my focus.”
His eyes were shaking now, watering. Y/N just spread their arms in response, cradling him like a child. “I’m so proud of you. I knew you’d get here, one way or another. And now look at you? That young and in a league with all these old guys.”
Max sniffled, holding her tightly. “Mom told me not to go with unknown adults.”
“What, I’m definitely a trusted adult.”
Back at the beginning of 2018, Y/N had left the Red Bull Team to stay with Mercedes. Max had understood, knowing Y/N had their reasons to do things. Niki had cursed when he saw them again.
“I really look like your grandfather now.”
He sighed, sitting down again. “I’m old and tired, Y/N.”
They smiled sadly. “I’m aware.”
His face turned sad as well. “Your prophecies were so true again. I sometimes wish you’d use them in a different way. Little Max and Mick would both experience hardship.”
Y/N had their lips pulled into a thin line again. Niki looked at her with an angry expression. “I know you well enough, seeing you appear means something will happen here.”
He huffed. “This time I’m ahead of you. I know I’m not well. My body…It’s reached its limit, hasn’t it? I’ve defied fate so many times but everyone got their limit.”
Y/N patted the almost 70 year old man on the shoulder. Their smile turned more comforting. “Could you greet Wolfgang for me? Tell him that I still sing that little song he taught me?”
“Scheiße, what do you think? That i’m the social services? Do that yourself! I refuse. You can do that on the day fate picks you up.”
That was the last time they had spoken.
Niki passed away in 2019. That was the first and only time Max Verstappen had seen them the cry. The all so stoic Y/N had broken down, crying on his shoulder. Max, unsure of what to do, patted their back like you’d do to a dog.
When 2021 came, Y/N was back to mad cheering. Max was Champion after all!
The party was mad. Everyone was crying, sniffling and drinking. Kelly had brought Penelope with her who was like a little sun in the restaurant. Max himself was shining just as much, lifting his trophy repeatedly and as much as he could lift the alcohol anyone was willing to pour him.
When night came and Penelope was tired, Kelly had carried her outside, beckoning Y/N to follow her.
Her face looked serious as she looked at them. “What are you, Y/N?”
They tilted their head again. “What do you mean, Kelly?”
“I remember you, though others apparently don’t. Or they do and just accept you without a second thought. When dad took me to the races, I saw you there. You are the same as you were back them. Your hair’s different but that’s it.”
Y/N hummed. It was Wolfgang’s Melody.
Kelly frowned when no answer was coming. “Then at least tell me this, will you hurt any of us?”
“Hurt?” Y/N looked on, offended. “I’ve never hurt a fly.”
“Then…” Kelly continued. “Why are you here?”
Y/N pondered before fishing around their pockets. “I’m immortal. I am Fate. Make of that what you will.” They then produced a little toy car, just of the same kind as Max had gotten years ago. “Give this to P once she’s awake, will you?”
Kelly just nodded. Y/N left.
Max missed them dearly. After his win, nothing of Y/N could be seen or heard. He’d asked the old mechanics and they all said the same to him. “They’ll appear when they want to.”
That’s how Max grew older and older, never seeing them again.
Slowly but surely the mysterious figure escaped from the back of his mind, not of importance to his successful life.
Everything crashed down when his father passed away. Max started spiraling, his entire life was planned and decided by Jos. How exactly should he go on now?
At the funeral, he saw them. Approaching with a delicate umbrella over their head, dressed in vintage funeral gear.
Max stared in shock, never expecting to see them again.
Y/N stared at the fresh grave, placing down a little wreath of flowers. “Jos, I really wish I could punch you. But alas, I can’t. Fate caught you as well.”
Max hesitated, staring at them. Instead of speaking, Y/N just engulfed him into a tight hug.
“I’m sorry, Max. I can’t interfere with your life much more. I wish I could but this is beyond me.”
From there, he once again didn’t see them again. Years passed, Seasons changed. His hair grew gray, his skin got wrinkly and his body heavy.
With a nice summer day rolling around he laid in his bed, his grandchildren had just left the room, window open and curtain fluttering. Max stared at the shaking curtain, once again getting surprised by a voice. “Hello Max.”
He slowly turned to the side, spotting Y/N sitting on the chair that had just been sat on by Penelope. They were dressed like he remembered during his childhood, their face sad.
“Hello, Y/N.” His voice was silent, weak.
“Has my time come?”
A sniffle rang out as Y/N leaned forward to touch his hand.
“Yes.”
He nodded. “I see.”
The silence was surprisingly comfortable. “Can you tell me now, what you are? I’m about to die anyway so…”
Y/N chuckled. “Always the smart boy, you were.”
They got up, their appearance changing to something ancestral. “I’m immortal. You could also call me Fate.”
“Fate…” Max rolled the words around on his tongue. “So will I see you in the afterlife?”
Y/N lowered their eyelashes. “If Destiny decides to release me from my duties, possibly. I cannot see my own path. Will you greet Niki for me?”
Max nodded again, folding his hands.
“I will. It was great to see you again.”
Akin to a sigh, Y/N saw his soul depart. With a tear running down their face they settled back onto the chair.
“I knew you’d be great. I just knew…”
And you're a cherry blossom
You're about to bloom
You look so pretty, but you're gone so soon