Chapter Text

At birth, Jos cast a disdainful glance over the wriggling infant. Wings. White wings. Slightly too large white wings. What a freak of a child. This thing was going to be his legacy? Really? Well, he can always be replaced if he can't be beaten into shape. He carelessly handed the infant back to Sophie, not even caring to ask how his wife was doing after the birth. 

"Keep him away from me until he's old enough to be useful," he snapped in Dutch, leaving the room without so much as a glance backwards. Sophie watched him go, a resigned look on her face as if she had expected nothing more, but still let her hope grow.

At the age of four, Max started carting. It seemed that the moment Jos left racing, his entire focus was turned to Max. Little two-year-old Victoria was ignored, as was his wife Sophie, everything was fully on Max. And the child knew that. He was his father's legacy project, and he needed to succeed.

In 2005 he competed in a Mini Junior VAS Championship. He won. Not that there was any other option. Jos had dragged him to the side before the race.

“Luister naar mij, jongen” [Listen to me, boy], he hissed, face pushed close to the nervous eight year old, horns butting into the boy's helmet, “Je moeder zei dat je moest genieten, maar ik zeg dat je moet winnen.” [Your mother said to enjoy yourself, but I say you have to win.]. 

And that was that. There was now no option to lose. Not that Jos had been aggressive at this point, but the underlying tension was already there. And so he won. This year. And the next. And the year after that. But the training never got lighter. 

If anything, the carting grew harder as his wings grew. It became more difficult to shove them down the back of his race suit, as all the other avian drivers did - as his mother had done with her small canary wings when she was carting. But whenever he mentioned this to Jos - in a quiet voice whilst making sure to wear his racing helmet - the man just scoffed and threw a roll of bandages at him

"Tie them up and out the way," he rolled his eyes as if Max was creating excuses to stop him from racing. 

And so Max just found out how to bind his wings, through lots of trial and error. But it wasn't just the pain from the badly bound wings he had to deal with.

During the freezing winter, he was out on the tracks, fingers freezing off. It was so cold he would be shaking for the next few days, even after leaving the track. However, it was hardly better than summer. There Jos kept him in the car as temperatures rose high enough for no one else to even consider being out. Max passed out several times, once mid-drive. After Jos had dragged his body out of the shattered cart, the first thing he did was shout.

“Domme jongen!” [Stupid Boy], he screeched, “Dat wordt een hele dure reparatie!” [That's going to be a very expensive repair!]. 

There wasn’t ever a ‘How are you doing’, or an ‘are you alright?’. It was just about the cost of the repairs to the cart. And that wasn’t anything new. Max’s life always seemed to be second to his position on the track. And when he didn’t win…

Jos had been so angry when he lost a competition. He should’ve won it (of course he should’ve, he was the best there) but through a series of unfortunate coincidences, he happened to come in second. Which wasn’t good enough apparently. 

Max was just finishing climbing out of the cart when he felt someone grab his neck. It was Jos. He’s been grabbed by the neck enough to know the handprint by now. He was dragged away from the cart and across the parking lot. Around them, everyone averted their eyes. This had happened long enough that people stopped interfering - nothing had happened whenever someone tried to help so they eventually stopped trying. But Jos was just annoyed those times, now he was angry. 

The car was opened and Max hurried into the back.

The crash messed up my race! He hurriedly tried to explain, wings pinned as tight to his back as he could pull them, I couldn’t do anything!

Jos said nothing. His hands tightened on the steering wheel. 

Honest Father! I couldn’t do anything!

Jos still said nothing. 

Eventually, Max got the idea and shrunk back into the seat. But the car wasn’t heading home. He noticed that when the car pulled into a garage. Soon the door he was leaning on was flung open. He toppled out, almost hitting his head on the concrete. It was so cold. He started shivering immediately - a racing suit has no protection from the elements outside of the car. 

Bruise immediately covering his blue skin, Max could only watch in horror as the car sped away, leaving him stranded at the garage. The cold wind whipped past and he hurried towards the garage building. It was shut. Shivering, he pushed into the pile of tyres chucked by the side of the road, desperately praying his father would return. Eyes flickering shut, he fell into an uneasy sleep.

"Up boy". A harsh slap to his face woke him immediately. His father stood there, framed by the morning sun. "Get in the car now".

Father had come back for him! It was a few hours later… right maybe more than a few but still! Father had come back for him!

And the next time it happened, Father came back as well! It had been a whole day that time, but he still came back! Father must’ve picked this garage specifically because of how quiet it was - no one was going to run into Max and try to kidnap him. The garage was all but abandoned - one working pump and no lights or staff.

The third time, Father didn’t come back. It had been a few days, and although Max had been able to find some bottled water (it was slightly green but better than nothing), he hadn’t been able to find any food. It was freezing cold as well, and his hands had an almost permanent shiver. The thin race suit was getting more worn by the day. It was old to begin with, slightly too short in his arms and legs, but the harsh wind had almost worn it through, now more holes than suit. He didn’t even have his helmet this time.

At least he had his wings. Greatful for their large size, for the first time ever, as he was able to wrap them fully around himself - like a giant blanket. Still, it wasn't warm - just enough to ward of the everpresent chill. Tucked into a damp corner, he waited. What if Father wasn’t coming back? What if Max had really been so bad that Father didn’t want anything to do with him anymore? He had cheated on Mama with a new lady and she was already pregnant. They had done some kind of scan the other day, and it was a boy. Father was delighted. Was this Max’s replacement?

A car pulled into the garage. Max poked his head up, too exhausted to move faster. This car was a very nice-looking Land Rover. Father drove a beat-up Honda. It wasn’t Father. But the man in the car was moving towards Max. He moved slowly, telegraphing his movements. It was a good thing, as the man was very tall, and very well dressed, and had he moved fast Max would’ve tried to run. He wouldn’t have gone far, exhaustion and all that, but it was the thought that counted.

But the man had wings, and every instinct in Max was calling for him to let this man close, to let the man in, let the man look after him. Rather odd reaction to a complete stranger, but Max hadn't had much experience with other avians - for all he knew, this was a perfectly normal reaction. (It wasn't - Max was just already distantly part of the man's flock so his instincts were getting slightly confused).

“Hey, kid?” oh, the man was talking to him? What were the man's wings... what bird?

“Kid, do you speak English? German? French? Italian? Polish?” the man asked, circling through a few languages as he spoke their names, wings twitching nervously.

“English. I speak English,” Max was able to rasp out, voice horse from a long time of silence.

“Alright kid, English. Where are your parents?” the man asked. He seemed nice. Max hoped he was nice.

Max shrugged, “Mama left. Father left me here. Usually, he’s back by now. It's been a few days.”

That seemed to shock the man, his feathers flaring slightly, but Max couldn’t think why. He hadn’t been good enough, so he was left in the garage. That’s just what happened, wasn’t it? He wasn't perfect, he was abandoned.

“Do you know your Father’s phone number?” the man tried after a moment of silence.

That, Max knew. He quickly rattled off his father’s phone number. Father had left him lots of places, so Max was very good at telling people Father’s number. He often needed reminding to come and collect Max. Max was very good at reminding his father to collect him. He liked being useful.

The man called Father. It took a few calls to go though as Father didn’t seem to be particularly eager to pick up his phone. The man seemed to be getting quite annoyed. That was bad. The man was very tall so when he hit Max it would hurt a lot. The man wasn’t allowed to get more annoyed.

[Man] - Your son is at a garage and told me you left him here. Who is this?

[Jos] - Ach. The boy is far too disobedient. A few days of punishment will do him good.

[Man] - This is a child!

[Jos] - Yes. My child. Do not tell me how to parent.

[Man] - This is not parenting, this is abuse!

[Jos] - If you’re so interested in the boy, you look after him for the next week. 

[Man] - You were planning to leave him there for another week?!

[Jos] - He is not good enough. He needs to learn.

[Man] - I will look after him for the week. Good riddance.

[Jos] - Good luck with the bastard child.

The man hung up the call and turned to Max. Max wasn’t sure what to think - he’d only heard the man’s side of the conversation, but he wasn't stupid. It was going to be another week. Father had his new son now, so there was no need for the old, useless one. It was like trading in a phone for the newest model - you don’t care what happens to the old one so long as the new one is nice and shiny.

But this man wanted him? Did he think Max was good enough? Was Max good enough? Oh! The man was talking to him.

“Hello there. I know this is going to seem very odd, but I’m going to be looking after you for a week.” The man said.

That was fine with Max. He had had several weeks away from his father, with nannies and Uncle Michael. He told the man as such.

“Alright… alright…” that seemed to make the man angry, his wings all but flared out - his wingspan was very impressive for a regular person, had he said something wrong?

“Well,” the man continued after a few deep breaths, “my name is Toto. What’s your name?”

“I’m Max!” Max cheered. He’d heard Christian talk about Toto (and it wasn’t a very common name!) when his father invited the man around. Christian didn’t like Jos, and he always made sure to sneak Max some food money when Jos’s back was turned. Jos had always been talking about ‘the future’ with Christian, whatever that meant. Christian was nice - he let Max sit in his nests sometimes! The man had very pretty Blue Jay wings

“Do you know Christian?” Max couldn’t help but ask, the hope present despite what life had thrown at him.

Toto looked very surprised, “I do,” he spoke carefully, “he’s my… best friend. We live together.”

“Did he tell you about me?” Max asked. Perhaps this was why Toto thought Max was good enough. Chrisitan certainly thought so, if the smiles and sweets he gave Max every time Jos dragged the pair to the same track, were any indication. Christian even said he was a good fledgling!

That seemed to confuse Toto though, as he just looked over the boy for a while, eyes just noticing the worn race suit. “Max Verstappen?” he asked, voice quiet, eyes flicking to the colossal wings dwarfing the small boy with noticeable confusion. After all, Max Verstappen was very publically known to be a wingless avian.

“You do know me!” Max cheered, relaxing further. If Christian trusted the man, then Max would trust him. Perhaps they were flock?

“Well, would you like to stay with Christian and me?” Toto offered quietly, crouching down and shuffling closer, not wanting to spook the boy.

It should have been a point for concern how quickly Max agreed to go with someone who was, in every way important, a stranger, but Toto was so relieved to get the boy somewhere safe that he brushed over the worry. He leaned over and picked up the boy, scooping him into his arms, careful to avoid jostling his wings, and headed back to the car. 

It was very warm. Max relaxed into the plush leather seats in the back, going practically boneless whilst Toto belted him in place. He looked so small, curled up in the back seat. No, Toto quickly corrected himself, the boy was far too small for his age. And the state of those wings... were they always a dirty grey? Were they supposed to be bright white?

“I’m going to start driving home now Max, it will be half an hour or so?” Toto told the boy, who hummed in reply, too asleep to properly think. His face rested against the window, asleep in a safe place for the first time in days.

A few moments later, when the car was in a calm, quiet state, Toto carefully unlocked his phone, calling someone on speaker.

[Toto] - Hey Chris?

[Christian] - Hello my Condor! Are you on your way back now? Was there a lot of traffic?

[Toto] - Not really. What do you know about Max Verstappen?

[Christian] - The sweet Dutch kid? His father keeps inviting me to his carting races, I’ll probably ask him to drive for Red Bull in the future. Why’d you ask?

[Toto] - What do you think of his father?

[Christian] - …

[Christian] - What’s the bastard done now?

[Toto] - Nice to know you hate the git too. He left the kid at a gas station. Alone. In the cold. And was planning to leave him there for another week! The kid almost has hypothermia, Chris!

[Christian] - The fuck? Please tell me you have the kid now Toto. You’re on the sofa for the next month if you don’t.

[Toto] - Of course I have the kid! He’s so light Chris, I carried him into the car and it was like I wasn’t lifting anything!

[Christopher] - Poor thing. Is he asleep?

[Toto] - Yeah, fell asleep the minute I picked him up.

[Christian] - Aww. I’ll heat up some watered-down soup or something. Get a warm meal into the kid.

[Toto] - Thank you. Be home soon. You might want to make a nest for him?

[Christian] - Will do. Drive safe.

The week with Christian and Toto passed quickly, but it was one of the best weeks in Max’s short life. He had a warm nest every night, and three meals a day, and he was allowed to sleep as long as he wanted! And they were both so lovely to him, with quiet voices and kind hands. They even preened his wings for him, calling the feathers beautiful and even keeping the ones that moulted out, as if they were some important collectable. He even got to choose a feather to hang on the wall, besides one of Christian's Blue Jay feathers, and what Max later learned was one of Toto's Andean Condor feathers.

But then Jos was back. And it was back to the everpresent pang of hunger and the cold that bit his fingers daily. And the soreness of his ribs when the bindings were pulled too tight.

The trophies started to come in, but it was never enough to satisfy Jos his father. Every time he met the bar, it was just pushed even higher. With the impossible height, so far out of his reach, it was all but impossible for Max to succeed now. But he kept trying. He knew nothing else.

As the other kids were playing football after races, Max was back in the cart, being forced to drill everything he’d got wrong. As the other kids were being praised for second place, Max was being yelled at for not having enough of a lead in first place. His carting overwhelmed his life, a constant cycle of training, racing and being berated for his failings. There was only one light spot.

A boy was stubborn enough to break through his rock-solid walls.

He kept going up to Max (thankfully when Jos wasn’t there - it seemed the boy did have some intelligence) and asking him to join in the games. Max refused every time, but the boy kept coming back.

He was always the first to congratulate Max every time he was on the podium (Jos didn’t - he didn’t offer any congratulations even after Max won by ten seconds in a near-perfect race). 

He was there when Max failed as well, choosing to comfort the Dutch boy above celebrating his own victory. The hand of friendship was always extended. And one day, a day with nothing particularly special about it, Max accepted it.

“Do you still want to play football?” Max asked quietly, one dreary day.

And the smile that overcame the other boy’s face was brighter than any sunny day could’ve been.
“Yes!” Charles Leclerc beamed, running off to grab the football, red parrot wings fluttering behind him.

And so they played football - out of sight of any angry parents - behind a garage in the grey morning. It formed a tradition. Every time there was a quiet moment, any time they could both escape their parents, they snuck off to play football.

At the start, it was just football. But then they began to talk.

Initially, it was race complaints. Talking about racing lines, and where to break for the best corners. About how school work was going, about what they had for dinner last night. But then the conversations changed. They stopped playing football, instead just sitting behind the garages, talking.

Charles murmured about never living up to his father’s ambition for him. Max spoke about his growing hatred for carting. 

They grew comfortable with each other too, with more and more physical contact by the day. By the ime a few months had passed, Max ended up going straight the curl up in Charles’s lap after a difficult race - a far cry from the two-metre distance they’d had when they first started talking. Max even let his wings out around Charles. Thankfully, the boy made no comments about the unusual size or crystal-like feathers, merely preening the loose feathers out, and offering his red wings up for reciprocation. Max snuck one of the tiny red feathers down his sleeve, carefully hiding it in his bedroom at home.

It was nice. Not the carting, or the family life. But he got on well with Charles.

It was like he had a friend.

His first friend.

Chapter Text

It was a very good thing Max and Charles swapped contact information, as he found himself relying on the other boy outside of carting races more and more.

He always made sure to find some time in his busy schedule to chat with the red-winged boy, and made the time he had to. (Jos didn't know they'd become friends. Jos couldn't know.)

Charles was even there for him when everything started to go wrong with his mother.

It wasn't noticeable at first. Her texts were so infrequent that the change in tone was barely noticeable. But looking back - it was rather clear.

Mama - Where are you this week darling boy? Mama misses you!

Mama - You haven't called this week! Have you forgotten about me?

Mama - I love you! Drive safe!

Mama - Why do you never visit me? I miss you!

Mama - Look after your father for me <3

Mama - Why didn't you deal with your father's anger before he called me!? Now your sister is crying!

The contact change in tone continued, one minute praising him, showering him in love. The next, a constant call for attention, for him to return to her, for him to deal with his father for her, for him to be there at her every call. He saw his father's phone lighting up with similar messages (Why did father have mama saved as Kumpen?), mama alternating between begging for him to return, for them to be a happy family again, to her swearing at him, cursing his name and family for daring to go near her.

Mama even cursed Father out for impregnating her in the first place. You made me carry that boy for nine months, the text message had declared, all in capitals, and yet he is the spitting image of you! Why did I even bother carrying him if he is your clone instead of my son!

Not her son? The thought lingered in Max's mind for days, even weeks afterwards. He meant to bring it up the next time he visited Mama, but the thought was quickly swept away.

Mama was waiting for him by the door (Jos didn't enter the house, the minute Max was dropped off for Christmas he slammed the car door shut and drove off to a nearby hotel - Max didn't see him until it was time to leave.) with a plate of freshly baked cookies. The house was adorned with garlands and colourful lights, and a pile of gifts sat under the tree, all neatly wrapped. Max could spot his name on several of them. He must be her son, his mind assured his heart, why would she do this otherwise?

And for the rest of the holidays, Mama loved Max. He was tucked into bed at night, snuck biscuits before dinner time and was even allowed to stay up extra late to finish watching his favourite television show! But then there was how Mama loved Victoria. Victoria was tucked into bed at night, but she got a kiss and a story. Victoria was snuck biscuits, and they were always her favourite biscuits - Max had told Mama his favourite biscuits earlier that week but they never seemed to appear in the oven after an afternoon of baking. Victoria always got the first pick of television as well, with Mama leaving Max alone to watch his show while she fussed over Victoria. Mama and Victoria sat for hours together, preening each other's canary wings. Max had to keep his bound at all times or else Mama would get that look on her face that Max was never sure if it was sad or angry. Was this normal? 

Max then remembered someone he knew with younger siblings - Charles!

Maxy and Charlie

Hey Charlie!

Happy Christmas holidays!

Do you have a minute to chat?

Maxy!

Yeah, I've got all the time for you!

So I'm staying with my Mama and sister over Christmas

And I'm a bit confused.

Well, let's hear what's confusing you then!

Right, so

Well

Mama prefers my sister to me? 

And I don't think she wants me as her son?

Oh

Well

Big statements there

Why?

It just feels like she's caring for me out of obligation.

There were text messages as well, between Father and Mama

Saying that I was more Father's clone than her son.

...

Would you mind if I got Jules in here?

I think this is a conversation that needs an adult

Yeah go ahead

Charlie added Jules to [Maxy and Charlie]

Charlie changed the group name to [Carting Kids And Adult]

Charlie

Jules! We need an adult!

Jules

Hey kid! Is this the Max I keep hearing so much about?

Charlie

Yeah but that's not the focus now

We need help with a really serious matter!

Jules

Alright, what's going on?

Maxy

Mama prefers my sister to me,

I feel like she's caring for me out of obligation,

And she said she sees me as my Father's clone

As opposed to her son?

Jules

Right

Really serious matter then.

Ok.

Give me a minute?

Alright, Max? You still there?

Maxy

Yep! Still here!

Jules

Right so, no real way to say this

But I think your Mum is struggling in her relationship with your father

And following their split, has decided that Victoria is her daughter

And you are Jos's son. And that she has mentally checked out from being your mother.

She sees too much of your father in you, and can't stand to think about him.

Maxy

Yeah that makes sense

I kinda guessed it was something like that

Feels like she was looking after me as a kid she was babysitting 

As opposed to her own son

Jules

let me know if it gets worse Max

I'm serious

If anything goes wrong, contact me as soon as you can.

Maxy

Thanks

I'll be fine though

Don't worry!

Now assured that his worries were well founded, Max focused on spending the rest of the holiday enjoying time with his family - not sure if he would be seeing them again any time soon. At least Victoria was nice to be around.

His little sister was adorable, all found cheeks and fluffy yellow feathers. The perfect picture of a little fledgling.

Not like Max. Max had heard all the stories of how he'd been as a baby. Apparently, he'd been born with a glare, and Mama made sure to remind him of it at every opportunity.

"Max!" she'd chastise, "stop glaring! Look how sweetly your sister is smiling, copy her!"

But Victoria didn't care about the glare. She didn't even care about his oddly large wings, nor how he disappeared for most of the year. All she cared was that her brother was here! And they got to play!

Mama didn't want Max plating with Victoria though. It was again difficult to notice at first, merely Max happening to have his chores going on when Victoria was calling for him. But then Max was being sent out of the house more and more - Mama called it running errands, and Max called it stopping him from talking to his sister. Was Mama scared to lose another child to Jos? Did he think that Max was going to lead her wrong? At least Victoria was too young to understand.

But Mama's mood changed the moment Max was leaving. Suddenly she was all over him, at his side at all times, making sure to have all of his favourites around, giving his first pick of everything. She all but refused to let him out of the door when Jos arrived to take him back to carting.

"Hurry up boy!" Jos was shouting from the car.

It wasn't like Max didn't want to go to the car, but his Mama was clinging to tight to him that he was all but unable to move. She was crying too.

"No! No! No! You cannot leave me again! You are mine! Mine not his! No! You cannot leave me!" she was bawling, desperately drying to pull him back into the house. Max was rather thankful his wings were bound, see he was sure she'd have yanked out several feathers by now.

By now Jos had arrived at the door, visibly annoyed.

"Get going boy! We need to leave now! Kumpen! Let my son go!" he huffed, almost ramming into them with his horns.

But Sophie was still sobbing, still bawling.

In the end, Jos dragged the pair apart, throwing Max into the back of the car.

"Stupid woman!" he huffed, driving away far faster than he should've.

Max was only able to catch one glance back at his Mama.

She seemed to have dried her tears the moment she realised Max was being dragged away. Standing in the window, she watched the car drive away, now a passive expression upon her face, Victoria held protectively in her arms.

Well then.

It was a damn good thing Max had learned to be independent at an early age.

He had no Mama now.

No Mama and no Father to rely on.

He had himself. And that would have to be enough.

And maybe he could rely on Charles and his family.

Maybe.

Chapter Text

With no Father and no Mama to rely on, life became slightly more grey.

At least before he'd known that Mama had a safe house waiting for him, he'd know that the moment Father pushed too far, and beat him slightly too much, he'd be able to run back to a safe home that would welcome him with open arms. But that wasn't the case now. There was nowhere safe. Nowhere to run should Jos get too violent. It was rather scary.

And he wasn't enjoying carting anymore.

Yes, he was winning everything, but everyone else at the track seemed to love carting. Even those not intending to go professional in the future seemed to live and breathe carting, seemed to have the motor oil running through their veins instead of blood. The other kids seemed to live for the moments they could be on the track.

Max used to be like that. He used to be one of the kids begging their parents to take them early to the track, to give them that extra hour of time despite the cold and dark. Not anymore. Now it was a chore to sit in the cart. It was a chore to go over past races. It was even a chore to watch the Formula One races - the realisation that he didn't want to drive a Formula One car was shocking, but not unexpected. In fact, as his father's ambition for him increased, Max's love for the sport drastically crashed.

But what could he say? What could he do?

Jos had raised him for years, specifically training him to drive an F1 car, like that was the only thing he could possibly achieve in life. He'd even been taken out of school (thankfully Jules slipped him Charles's textbooks when Jos's back was turned, even going as far as helping him take the French school exams - Jos would never expect his son to speak French, so even if the books were found he wouldn't get punished. Probably. Maybe.).

Max didn't want to cart. He didn't want to race in the future either. At that moment. Because of his father. Maybe he'd have liked carting if he wasn't forced into it as much. Maybe he'd want to continue if Jos wasn't around. But how could that ever happen?

Max didn't want to race, but he would race. He would race and he would win. That was the way life would be. 

There was no other option.

And that made Max sad.

Chapter Text

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Enter your name…

Name entered. Welcome to YouTube [EmilianOnline]

“And this was a really bad turn into this corner…” Max was explaining to a camera when his father rounded the corner into his room.

The older man seemed baffled for a moment, thankfully confused as opposed to angry. “What are you doing?” he asked, eyes drifting across the wires sprawling over the floor.

Max turned in his chair, swiping something onto the monitor next to his laptop. It was some kind of recording software, a still of Max’s face paused upon the screen. The video was in the process of being edited, about half complete.

“I thought it would be a good way to ensure I keep up my analysis of other drivers. If I upload a video to YouTube every week then I can see when I was slacking. Also it means I can look back on past analysis to improve my driving.” he explained, hands flicking between the screen and a keyboard he tapped occasionally.

Jos seemed to be impressed, though with how fleeting the expression was, Max was fortunate to have spotted it. The older man made no further comments about the videos, merely humming and leaving the room. That was as closest to approval as Max would ever get, and he took it as permission to keep going. A few hours later and… click.

Video uploaded…

Video title: [Analysis of 1994 Hungarian Grand Prix]

Video transcription:

[Black screen at the start. The words “1994 - Hungary” flick onto the screen in white text. It stays for a few seconds then fades away to show Max in a small office, camera recording his upper torso and head. The background is too dark to make out anything. Max didn't have his wings bound away, instead out in full force, freshly preened and extra fluffy]

Max: Hello! I’m Emilian but please call me Emi. And I’ve always had an interest in racing and decided, hey! Why not share my interests with others! And so I’m going to be uploading video analysis on past races. Let me know if there’s any specific races you want me to cover. 
And with that, lets get into the analysis! So…

The video continues, well edited and fun to listen to. It jumps between clips from the races, screenshots of data and sketches Max has drawn to illustrate his points. In the corner is a face-cam that sometimes fills the entire screen. Throught the video Max is cracking jokes and chatting about everything other than racing. It’s a brilliant recap of the race though despite the off-topic chatter.

The video got a little bit of traction, a few hundred views in the first hour, a couple thousand in the first day. The comment section was filled with encouraging messages:

Blinkandyoumiss - Holy s**t this kid’s hilarious

Instinctsbad - Never thought of the Ferarri strategy that way, makes such a difference!

                Iputthebiinbicycle - Never seen anyone actually praise Jos like this kid

Boldofutoassume - Hes Dutch so thats probs y

Ironass - Do Brazil 1997 next!

Mayhemonmars - Oh my god look at those wings! So pretty! That's gotta be a world record for size!

And from there the channel just kept growing. Not overnight mind, just a couple of subscribers every day, but the video views just kept climbing. A thousand for the first, five thousand the next… a few weeks down the line the views were in the ten thousand. And then the money started to trickle in.

Jos didn’t seem to care much. Max wasn’t expecting his to be jumping off the walls, but a little smile wouldn’t have been hated. Or even a nod of acknowledgement. It was as if Jos decided that Max could carry out his little side project as if thinking that he would get bored of it soon. But that wasn’t the case. Max was loving it more and more every day. (Jos never looked for the videos. It was a good thing, had he seen Max posting videos with his wings out online, he would've gone ballistic.)

The house was becoming very tense though. The break was drawing to an end, racing was due to start again soon, and Max wasn’t sure if he was going back. Though the conversation hadn’t been officially brought up, both Jos and Max knew that his departure was a genuine possibility. Yet Jos seemed to calm himself through the idea that whilst Max was under his custody, there was nothing the boy could do to go against his wishes. And as far as Max knew, it was just going to be a waiting game until he was eighteen. There was even a chart in his room, counting down the days. Then another idea made itself known.

Emancipated? Was that a possibility? He hadn’t ever thought of getting emancipated before. It always seemed to set in stone that he would be remaining under his father’s care until he turned eighteen, but emancipation… would that even work? How would that work? Jos may have been violent sometimes, and a bit emotionally unavailable, but it was never like Max’s basic needs weren’t met. Nor would there be any court in the Netherlands that would take his side over Jos’s. For all the man may be a bastard, he was still highly respected in his home country.

It was a shame, Max thought, as emancipation would have been simply lovely. Given a solution to so many problems as well. With a laugh, he grabbed his phone, texting Charles.

Maxy to Charlie

Got an invite to the YT Partner programme!
Gonna start making money

!!!
That’s so cool!
Will your father have access to the money?
Worried he’d spend it all

He doesn’t
It’ll be in a locked fund until im emancipated
Which is another four years *crying face

You can’t get emancipated early?
Self-sustaining finance and all that

Nah
Dad’s not bad enough for that
Don’t suppose you know any old Dutch laws
For an early emancipation do you?

Gimmie a few hours?

K

...

Charlie?
It’s been a day
If you haven’t found anything don’t worry

Yeah so…
I have found something…

This doesn’t sound good

I mean
You’d be emancipated?

What’s the exact law?

*ATTACHED FILE*

Maxy to Charlie

I mean…
I only meet one of those criteria
And who’d be crazy enough to marry me just for emancipation

I mean…
Monaco is one of the countries sharing the law…

Wait
Seriously?
Holy sh*t Charlie
I’m going to call you now

Call started between Maxie and Charlie

[Charles picks up the phone before it has even rung once]

Max: Charlie! Were you serious?

Charles: I mean, yeah. I don’t mind being married to you 

Max: No but seriously. This is a long-term thing

Charles: I know. Max, I want to marry you

[Both are now blushing heavily, staring at their phones with heart eyes]

Max: Thank you Charles. You’re a great friend

Charles: [Hidden sadness] Yeah! Your best friend

Max: [Sad but not knowing why] My best friend. My Charlie!

Charles: And your my… wait what name are you using?

Max: [Confused] Wha- What?

[Charles gestures vaguely before realising Max can't see him]

Charles: You know… When you get married you choose your surname but you can also change the rest of your name. Are you sticking to Max or changing to Emilian?

Max: [Thoughtful] You know, I never thought about that. I do sort of want to stick to my current name though.

Charles: I get keeping Max and Emilian, but why Verstappen?

[A wicked grin takes over Max’s face]

Max: I want it to be so when someone searches Verstappen, my name comes up first before my father's. I want to overshadow him so badly that he’s always reminded of me every time someone mentions his surname.

[Charles lets out a sharp laugh that prompts Max into laughter as well. The pair laugh for several moments before it dies down.]

Max: Seriously though Charles. You would marry me?

Charles: Max. My Emi. I would do anything for you. Marrying you is nothing.

Max: [Speechless for a few moments] … huh. Thank you. My Charlie.

Charles: My Emi.

[Again, a few moments of companionable silence before Max speaks up]

Max: [Grinning] And how are your parents going to take this?

Charles: [Smile dropping] Sh*t…

[Max bursts into laughter and hangs up the call, still laughing at his phone even after the call has ended.]

Charles is sat alone in his room, realising what he has just agreed to. Yes it was all legal, and they could get divorced once they were eighteen, but what if Charles didn’t want to? Could he get married to the boy he has had a crush on for the longest time, knowing that a divorce was forever on the horizon? Would his heart be able to take it? 

No, there was no going back now. He had told Max he would marry him, and so god damn it he was getting married. To so callously rip freedom away from his Max, his Emi, like that was a level of cruelty Charles dared not think about. And so married he would be. Now to break the news to his family… Who first? Who would be the least likely to get angry…

Charles to The Godfather

Hey Jules?

Oh God Charles

What have you done?

Nothing!

Why do you always assume I’ve done something?

…

Is that a serious question?

Shut up

Polite

So you haven't done anything?

Well…

Here we go…

Do you remember being in history class and 

Learning about the Early Emancipation Law of 1875

And the Legacy Law of 1760?

???

Charles…

Jules…

Please tell me you and Max haven't decided to get married

…

Why was that your first thought

Am I wrong?

…

No

Damn it. I owe your father $100

WHAT???

WHY???

JULES!

Why?/

Answer me!!!

Leclerc Family Groupchat

Jules

Herve I owe you $100

Herve

There's a couple of bets going on. Which one did I just win?

Jules

The “Max and Charles find some way to get married before 18” one

Herve

I see

@Charles ?

Congrats kiddo. 

I’d like to know why but don’t worry about me being disappointed or anything.

I’m so happy for you both.

You make such a sweet couple <3

Such a nice flock!

Charles

No! 

No Papa its not liek that!

We’re not together!

Just getting married so Max can be emancipated and nothave to warry about his father!

We aren’t togher Papa!

Herve

But would you want to be?

Charles

That doesn’t matter

Max wouldn’t want to date me

Herve

…

Right

Of course not

Pascale

Is there something more to this?

I know Max has never agreed with his father

But this seems fairly extreme

Charles

Oh yeah

He’s not sure if he can continue racing

With his father and current name

Jules

What???

He’s quitting?!?

Charles

Temporarily 

I think he might rejoin under a different name

Or some sort of alias

He’s gone though puberty early

And looks so different!

He’s really handsome!

Pascale

Ignoring the last sentence

Tell him if he wants anything he can always come to us

Especially now he’s our Son-In-Law!

Jules

Waitwaitwait 

Is this him??

*link to EmilianOnline *

Charles

Yeah

Oh cool! He’s on half a million subscribers!

Jules

More than cool Charles!

Ferrari were talking about hiring him as a strategist

Even though he’s a child they thought he was better than most of their strategy team

You telling me he’s as good a strategist as he is a driver???

And oh my god! Look at those wings!

Charles

Woah Ferrari?!?

He’ll be so happy

Probs won’t work with them tho

I think he still secretly wants to be a driver

Herve

I know I’m slightly old to technology, but does the M by views mean over a million people watch each of his videos? That’s more than watch the actual broadcast?

Pascale

Add him to the group!

He’s family now!

Herve added Max.V to the Chat

Max changed his name to Emi 

Emi

You accepting me? 

Everything good Charlie?

Charles

Yep! All good!

Emi

Nice to meet you all properly

Sorry about dragging Charlie into this mess

Jules

Don’t worry about it kid

Pascale

What’s with the name change?

Would you prefer we call you Emi?

Emi

So I’m planning to make Max disappear

And if you have me in a group chat that might spoil my plans

So could you call me Emi or Emilian

And maybe pretend I’ve only just met you?

Jules

Do you want us to create a cover story?

Including your YT channel?

Emi

Please

Go crazy 

Jules

Okokok 

So

You’re doing your YT thing

And our Charles reached out 

Said hi and all that

He was one of your first subscribers 

True love

Charles

Jules!

Jules

Oh shush

So you got talking

Found out your the same age

Became besties

Charlie found out abt your semi neglectful mother

And married you!

How’s that?

Emi

You know

That might just work

But only if people start asking. 

Charles

Yeah don’t say anything otherwise 

Herve

He won’t. 

Pascale

We’ll make sure he won’t 

Emi

Why did that sound vaguely threatening?

Charles

It was supposed to be

Emi

Ah

Wonderful

Pascale

Anyways

Would you like help planning the wedding?

Charles

Emi?

Emi

Yeah sure

I haven’t really thought about getting married so no ideas

Pascale

Not even colour?

Emi

Purple

Pascale

Any reason?

Emi

As I know Charles wants to race for Ferrari (Red) and I think I’m going to try and race for Red Bull (Dark blue). And Red and blue is purple. 

Charles

Awww <3

Chapter Text

The money rolling in had been enough to meet the emancipation requirements. Apparently having the money in trust met the savings requirement, so the wedding went ahead. It was slightly odd, but Max wasn’t going to question it. Probably just a loophole written many years ago to ensure wealth stayed within the family.

Max flew into Monaco on a cold winter night, rather close to Christmas. Pascale greeted him at the airport, not recognising him at first.

“Mrs Leclerc!” Max exclaimed as her eyes passed over him for the third time.

The woman’s head snapped round, staring at the young boy with a baffled expression. A second passed, and realisation drifted across her face.

“Oh my!” she exclaimed, holding out her arms for a hug, “When Charles said you looked different I didn’t realise he meant this different!”

Max laughed, quickly running over and into the waiting arms, thankful he'd bound his wings so that he could fit fully into her arms. That was nice, he decided. The warm feeling of someone’s arms around him, heating both body and soul. He softened, tense muscles relaxing as he burrowed deeper into the loving embrace. Pascale didn’t let go of him wither, not after a minute, not after five minutes. She kept holding him for as long as he clung to her, happy to be able to provide comfort for this sweet boy. Eventually, though, they did part. 

With a start, Max rushed over to where he had been when he called out for Pascale, and returned dragging two suitcases behind him. Pascale turned to him with a frown.

“Is the rest of your stuff being delivered later?” she ascked, curiously.

Max flushed, embarrassed. “This is everything I care about,” he muttered quietly, “I have my electronics being sent over tomorrow but there’s not really anything else I have.”

Oh. Pascale felt her heart break for this boy. Two suitcases. That was all he had from fourteen years that he cared enough about to keep. She made a silent promise to herself that she would ensure this boy never wanted for anything the rest of his life. 

Not wanting to show her anger, Pascale led Max out of the airport and to her car. There was a person waiting inside. The moment Max was close enough to be seen, the person jumped out and sprinted over, almost knocking Max to the floor as they barreled into him.

“Emi!” Charles shouted, spinning Max around, “You’re here!”

Max once again sunk into the embrace, this time moving his arms to wrap around Charles’s neck. Charles’s arms drifted down to wrap around Max’s waist, pulling the pair even closer together - so close that not even light could pass between them. Max buried his face in Charles’s neck.

“I missed you,” he whispered, “texting and calling are not the same. I missed your hugs.”

Charles buried his face in Max’s hair, thankful for the few inches of height he had over the other boy. He was also thankful Max was looking away, as a brilliant blush covered his face.

“I missed you too Emi,” he whispered back, hand absently trailing up and down Max’s spine. He felt the other boy shudder in his embrace and oh … wasn’t that lovely.

Pascale just watched on. The boys were so lost in each other that she wasn’t sure there was anything she could’ve done to separate them even if she wanted to. She had initially been hesitant about the wedding, fearing that somehow Charles had been right, that Max wasn’t in love with her son. But looking at the pair now, clinging so tightly to each other it was as if they were trying to fuse into one person, she knew that Charles was wrong. This wasn’t even a teenage crush. This was complete and absolute love that was so clear to everyone around them. Silently, she pulled out her phone and snapped a picture. She hesitated for a second, was it safe to have this photo on her phone? What if someone saw and realised who they were? The world was mostly accepting of same-sex couples now, but Max was trying to hide his identity… A sudden idea hit her! But what would a good name be…

Create a Chatter Account?

Enter Account Name…

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Your account has been set to private . Only those who you allow to follow you will be able to view your posts and comments. If you choose to make the account public later, all posts will immediately become visible to all.

[Chatter is a fictional social media platform I’m using. Think of it as a cross between facebook, instagram and twitter.]

Immediately after the post was uploaded Pascale deleted the photo from her phone, before sending a follow invitation to the private accounts of her family.

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JBia commented on your post

         Awww. So cute!

Pascale slipped her phone back into her pocket, turning back to the boys. They were still hugging. With a cheeky smile, she walked over.

“Are you so clingy we need to put you in the same bed tonight?” she joked.

That did the trick. Both boys immediately sprung apart, faces entirely red. Without another word they both scurried into the car, eyes avoiding each other. Pascale did feel slightly bad as she walked off to pay for parking, but it was probably the only way to get them to separate. Besides, when she returned to the car it was clear they were once again comfortable with each other, Max fast asleep in Charles's lap. She snapped another picture.

Thankfully, she didn’t have to wake them this time. Or at least, she didn’t have to wake Max. The moment she slid into the car, he jumped awake, batting away Charles’s hand from where it rested in his hair. Charles remained asleep, even as Max moved out of his lap to sit up properly. Pascale looked over, but waited for Max to initiate conversation.

After several long minutes, he did so.

“So you know how Charlie and I are getting married?” he started, voice quiet and slightly shaky.

Pascale gave him a reassuring smile in the mirror, “Of course, I’ve been looking forward to the wedding from the moment you mentioned it!” she spoke softly as to not wake her sleeping son.

Relaxing slightly, Max continued, “And I know it might be really soon, but do you think it would be a good idea for Charlie and I to move in somewhere together? I know that it’s probably annoying to have an extra person in your house.”

There were several moments of silence in the car as Pascale thought over how best to reply. 

“I am more than happy for you and Charles to live with us for as long as you like,” she started, doing her best to keep her tone neutral, “but if you feel ready to live alone, then I and the rest of the family will be more than happy to support you.”

That seemed to relax Max even further. He curled back into Charles’s lap, and Pascale bit down a coo. Silence once again filled the car.

“Mrs Leclerc?” Max asked, long enough later that Pascale had thought he was asleep.

She didn’t jump though, just responded, “Please Max, call me Pascale. Is everything alright?”

“My mama owned a place in Monaco growing up that she transferred to me when I was born. I mentioned you living in Monaco and she told me about it, said that there were currently renters there but their contract was up. I’m planning to move in there in a couple of days, its just a few streets down from your house. Mama said she renovated it a few weeks back so I could decorate it how I liked. Could we visit in the next few days? Maybe before the wedding? I already have the keys!” He rushed out, the words flowing together so much that it was a struggle for Pascale to figure out what he was saying.

She managed though, immediately responding, “Yes, of course! The weddings in a few weeks, so there should be enough time to move you into your new place. Will Charles go with you?”

Max shrugged. It was clear that that hadn’t been decided between the two. Nevertheless, Pascale knew what she would prefer.

“How about we head round tomorrow to check it out? Get you two moved in as soon as possible to start your life together?” she offered.

A smile crossed Max’s face. “That sounds nice,” he murmured, finally giving in to sleep.

As soft snores filled the car, Pascale chanced a glance backwards. The sight melted her heart. Max was in Charles’s lap, head resting upon the other boy’s chest. Charles had his hands wrapped tightly around Max’s waist, having moved them there when Max returned to his lap. Both were completely asleep, a peaceful expression upon their face.

This time they didn’t wake once the car stopped. In fact, they were so deeply asleep that Pascale had to call out Herve to carry the boys to bed. Separate beds, of course, for all the teasing she had done about sharing a bed it would be rather rude to immediately presume both were comfortable with that. And besides, the house had far too many spare rooms, might as well make use of them. Even if the boys will be living alone soon. Oh, how her boy was all grown up! Pascale headed to bed happy for the boys, silently toasting to their future with the water beside her bed.

The next morning, everyone was up early. Pascale hurried them out the house before a scene could be made though, something Max was visibly thankful for. It seemed that Max hadn’t told Charles where they were going either, as he started asking the moment the car took off.

“Mama!” he asked, “What are we doing?”

Pascale looked back to Max, who quickly stepped in.

“My Mama left me a house in Monaco, Charlie. We’re going to move me into the house!” he chattered, not noticing how Charles’s face fell.

“Oh,” the brunette said, voice quiet, “You’re moving out already?”

At this point, Max realised what was wrong. Being careful to work around their seatbelts, he leaned against Charles, hand brushing against the other boys.

“Of course, there would be room for you too. Only if you want to!” he whispered tentatively.

There was no need for nerves - Charles was ecstatic. He immediately agreed, and the pair spent the rest of the time joking about increasingly chaotic ways to decorate the place. At one point someone suggested a room solely for the trophies they would win. Both laughed it off, not knowing what the future would hold.

The drive was quickly over - short enough to be a twenty-minute walk - and Pascale pulled up in front of a long driveway. The path disappeared into deep forest and hills, perfectly paved and lined with unlit lights. It was too early in the day for the lights to be on, but Pascale was sure, that had it been dark enough, the place would have glowed golden. She wasn't sure, however, that this was the right place.

As if sensing her hesitation, Max spoke up. “This is right,” he nodded, “It’s quite a private place. Actually… here!” He handed Pascale a lanyard. Attached were three ID cards and a set of keys, “This will let you get into the place!”

Well… This was raising her expectations of the place slightly if they need ID to get into the place! She started the car again and rolled along the path.

Once turning the corner, however, she had to take a minute to take in the building. It was five or six stories tall, perhaps seven in places, with a wonderful modern feel. The building curled around, almost forming a complete circle, with a gated entrance guarded by two men. The sun shone down, illuminating the clearing in a golden light, bouncing the sunshine off the surrounding mountains and into the shiny windows. Huge balconies surrounded the floors, decorated with plants and colourful banners. Rolling the car forward, Pascale couldn't help but feel underdressed.

At the gate, a guard came to the car. 

“Good morning Ma’am. Can I ask why you are here?” he asked, tone rich and velvety.

Pascale shook the shock off and held out the lanyard, “My son-in-law told me he inherited an apartment here? Max Verstappen?”

The man’s face cleared at the name, relaxing more as he checked over the ID cards. He pressed a button on a device attached to his belt and the gates started to open. He handed the cards back and waved them through with a warm smile.

The inside of the building was even more stunning. The floor dropped down so the ground floor was actually the third floor, with the car road leading off to somewhere within the mountains. It was so stunning she couldn’t help but snap a photo.

Climbing out of the car, someone was immediately at their side, taking the keys and escorting them out. A polite man with a pressed suit that probably cost more than the car. Pascale once again felt so underdressed. Neither boy seemed to mind though, climbing out of the car and heading back to where the apartments are, without a second thought. Pascale hurried after the pair, seeing that they somewhat knew where they were going. Heading up several flights of stairs, Max led the group to a door - Apartment 33. A quick click of the key and the door slid open. It opened into a giant apartment, currently spotless and ready for re-decoration.

Max led the pair on a tour, clearly having been here before.

MAX: This is the entryway, We've got so much storage here!

[The hallway is bright and modern, with floor-to-ceiling cupboards with built-in benches covering both walls. The floor is pale wood, perfectly polished, with a couple of rugs scattered about.]

MAX: And then we head down the hallway to the living room!

[The three move down the hallway into a modern living room, a dropped conversation pit in the centre of the room, plush cushions padding the seat. A dropped light hangs down, but the large windows give enough light for the lights not to need to be turned on. On one wall an electric fireplace is tucked below a built-in television. Plush seats litter the room, with empty bookshelves covering the walls. In the conversation pit, about half of it is sake up by a large nest.]

MAX: And this way…

[He leads them through one of the high arches in the living room into a huge modern kitchen. The island alone is large enough to be used as a bed. Shiny appliances are nestled within cabinets and glass-faced cupboard doors show cabinets packed with food. Again, there are floor-to-ceiling windows bathing the room in natural light. This room has a view over the courtyard, where people can be seen gathering and chatting.]

MAX: So I quite like cooking, and think I’m going to be spending a lot of time here! But I also think…

[He heads back into the living room and out another arch, this time with a door. This room is set up to be the ultimate gaming and video-creating room. LED lights cover the room and there is more desk space in this one room than in most school classrooms. Technology litters the desks, and there are at least five monitors. A wall of windows lights the room, with comfy couches clearly set up for podcasts and filming. The overall theme of the room is a light purple.]

MAX: …this is where I’ll be spending a lot of my time!

CHARLES: Oh wow Emi! That looks amazing! And all of your setup is already here!

MAX: I know! Mama designed it especially for me! Sort of a final girst before we parted ways completely. And look! It’s got a simulator in it as well!

[Max excitedly showed the other two around the room, before returning to the living room and through another door. This one led into a master bedroom. A king-sized bed in the centre, four poster, with fabric draped all over. Fluffy rugs litter the floor and there are blank shelves all over the walls. There is again a distinctly lilac theme.]

MAX: So this is my room! Mama asked for a colour and I said purple and she did this! There’s an en-suite over there and a walk in wardrobe over there!

[Max hurriedly shows the pair around the room, before hurrying to the room over, which is exactly the same but with a plain cream colour as opposed to the purple. The room is slightly smaller, but not overly noticeable, complete with a walk-in wardrobe and en-suite.

MAX: And if… if you want to move in with me this could be your room?

CHARLES: Yes! I mean… yeah if you want me to…

MAX: Of course I want you to move in with me! Why wouldn’t I?

[The tour ends, and the group move back to the living room, sitting in the conversation pit.]

“So Max? Have you been here before? You seem to know your wa around well,” Pascale started the conversation.

“Yeah!” Max explained, happily, “I’ve been here a lot as Mama’s best friend from childhood lives here. They had a fallout a few years ago but I stayed in contact with her - she’s my Auntie Aida! There’s a big community of us here, like a big family!”

Charles jumped in, “Is that where some of those people you mention stories from?”

“Yeah, there's about twenty of us? Three are so much older than I am, six are about the same age as my mama, four are my age, and there are some kids in this nursery-type area. Their parents technically live here but travel too much, so the kids are raised by nannies. I’ll introduce you to some of them later. Or they might visit themselves.” Max shrugged, glancing over to the door as he said that last sentence, not seeing anything wrong with the kids being raised by nannies.

Over his head, Charles and Pascale exchanged surprised glances.

“You get along with everyone though?” Charles couldn’t help but ask.

“Oh yeah!” Max replied happily, “It’s like having a big family. And I love helping out with the kids, they're so sweet!”

Charles melted, mind immediately going to Max with kids. From the look on his mother’s face, she knew exactly what had happened. The smirk on her face had his blushing a bright red. Fortunately, Max didn’t notice.

The conversation fell into idle chatter, everyone happy to be in person together after so long only talking over the phone. At some point Pascale slipped out of the room and the boys didn’t even notice, so caught up in each other. She called out, said goodbye, and left the boys alone in their new house. They didn’t even stop their conversation for over a second, chatting late into the evening, only going to bed when they couldn’t hold their eyes open any longer. 

As he was about to sleep, it suddenly hit Max. He was free. For the rest of his life. He fell to sleep with a smile upon his face.

EmilianOnline has gone LIVE on Twitch

[The screen opens to a loading screen, an animated F1 car in a purple livery is driving around the screen aimlessly. As the music draws to a close, the car draws closer to the screen, spinning to show the text EmilianOnline written on the side of the car where a sponsor should be. The loading screen fades away to show Max in his new office.]

Max: Hey guys! 

[He fiddles with a few buttons off-screen, glancing between his second monitor and the chat]

Max: New room? Yeah I know, doesn’t it look cool?

playerrules - new room looks awesome!

tvbuzz - whats going on today?/

belna - we playing games???

intrania - new games?? what we doing??

Max: We are playing a game today! I decided that as I’m in a new place, my new house actually, we’re going to try something new! So instead of Formula 1, we’re going to be playing some games. Minecraft, in fact!

[The chat rapidly exploded into excited chatter. Whilst they had initially started watching for Formula 1 analysis, they stayed for his personality.]

A few hours later and Max leant back from his chair with a sigh. The stream had only just ended, and it had been a busy one. Starting anything new was always a risk, but given the viewing numbers, and the amount of donations that had rolled in, the risk had paid off.

Charles popped his head round the door.

“Hey Emi?” he asked, face slightly baffled.

Max spun in his chair to face the door. “Hey, Charlie! Everything alright?”

“Yeah, there’s someone at the door asking to talk to you. Ask’s if you’ve missed your Granny Evie?”

At that Max jumped out of his chair. “Granny Evie’s here?!” he exclaimed, racing over to the door, hastily pulling on his shoes.

Charles followed at a more sedate pace, curious as to who Grenny Evie was. Yanking open the door, Max pulled the frail-looking old lady with bug-like antennae into his arms. She had some black and red spots down her arms - a ladybird, then? A brief hug, and he drew back to escort her into the conversation pit. Once she was properly seated, he turned to Charles.

“Charlie, this is Granny Evie. She’s the oldest here and took most of us under her wing. Granny, this is Charlie, he’s my best friend” he introduced the pair.

"Lovely to meet him dear. I must say, the weather's awful dry recently. I don’t suppose you could grab me a drink could you?" She asked quietly, coughing to make her point. 

Max immediately jumped up heading over to the kitchen. The two were alone in the room now. Charles nodded at the older woman, who fixed him with a steely stare.

"So." The old woman humphed, eyes staring deep into Charles. "What’s going on with you and our boy?"

"Well..." Charles started, voice wavering. "I mean. We’re…"

"Start with this."

The wedding invitation was gently placed on the table. It was tasteful, shades of purple with golden calligraphy and white text. It read:

You are warmly welcomed to the wedding of Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc. 

5th January 

Please wear jewel tone colours and black shoes. 

"Right. So… We’re getting married?" Charles tried to cheer, hands waving in a pathetic attempt at jazz hands. 

Granny Evie was not impressed. But there seemed to be little she was impressed with so Charles took it as a win. 

"Hmph." She sighed, picking up the invitation again. "I suppose if he is going to marry anyone you’ll do."

And it was with that overwhelmingly positive acceptance that Max swanned back into the room. He had a glass of whisky in one hand and a grin upon his face. Traitor. He knew Charles was going to be interrogated. 

Max plopped down on the sofa, all but lying across Charles’s lap. Another glare from Granny had Charles keeping his hands to himself. It was so difficult though! The feathers looked especially fluffy today!

"How have you been dear? X told me the YouTube thing was taking off. Does that mean it’s going well?" Immediately the sweet old lady was back. 

"Yes Granny," Max smiled, "over two million people watch my videos now. I’m just starting to diversify my content to appeal to more, so there should be another million by this time next year!"

Personally, Charles thought that was a gross underestimate. It was surely to be five million at least with the way people flocked to Max. But he knew better to say that. Max, for all he acted otherwise, believed very little positive things about himself.

Chapter Text

The idea was firmly in his head now. He could see the headlines already - faceless driver takes the grid by storm! But what name? 

Had he raced as Max Verstappen, his entry would've been set in stone. Max, son of Jos Verstappen. Max Max. The aggressive one, the violent one. The one who takes and takes and gets hated on for it, but keeps on taking anyway.

But with this new identity? Who did he want to be? The funny one? With quick quips and a witty repertoire with the reporters. Or the bitchy one, involved in fights with everyone on the grid but somehow the fan favourite? Perhaps the cold one? One-word answers and ignoring all reporters? No… None of that seemed to fit…

Perhaps a name first? Time to call in help…

“Charlie~” he called out loudly, leaning back in his chair.

Within seconds the sound of running feet sounded in the hallway. Charles popped his head around the door. “Hey Emi! What do you need?” He drifted into the doorway, popping down on the nearby sofa with a sigh.

“So I’m getting back into racing, but need a name,” Max offered, arms flailing as if to demonstrate his helplessness at the situation.

Charles chuckled, a fond look in his eyes.

“Well, what are you thinking? A fake name like… I dont know… Steve Davidson? Or a fake name like… Sunshine or something?” he asked, eyes never leaving Max.

“More like Sunshine? I think? I want more of a character identity than a fake identity… if you know what I mean?” Max’s reply was very hesitant as he considered the idea.

“Amazing! I like that idea! What about… Lion? After the Dutch national animal. National pride and all that?” Charles suggested, already knowing that Max would be keeping his wings hidden when racing - part of the secret identity and all.

Max frowned. “No… I want it to sound more like a name…”

“Leo?”

“Too short. Also, I think it sounds like a nickname as opposed to an actual name.”

“Leonard?” 

Max shot him a horrified look, “NO!” Charles broke into cackles, clearly having only suggested the name to annoy Max.

“… How about Aurelio?”

“Huh. I like that. What made you think of that?”

“... back in the day there used to be someone working at Ferarri called Aurelio Lampredi…”

“Ha. Should've guessed it was Ferrari related.”

“Hey,” Charles shrugged, letting out a quiet coo as he smiled, “I think the name fits, and it’s not overly well known to be related to Ferrari so…” 

Max mulled over the name in his head for a while, Charles just stayed quiet, realising that he needed the time to think over the idea.

Aurelio. Huh, it did sound quite nice. But what kind of driver was Aurelio? He wasn’t the funny one, that was clear. Nor was he the overly serious one. After a few more moments of thinking, he still had nothing. But Aurelio was the name, he was sure of that.

“Alright, I like the name,” he nodded to Charles. “But if I’m going for a character, what should it be?”

Charles took a moment before responding, “Well, I want to be Ferarri’s golden boy, so you can have that-”

“-not that I’d want to-”

“-and wearing a mask will make it difficult to endear fans to you by being hot or sexy, so… what about leaning fully into being mysterious?” Charles offered, curious as to his reply.

The mysterious driver? Hmmm… Perhaps that would fit? He took a few minutes to imagine the future.

Standing on the podium, but not taking his helmet off. Having all of the fan merch being of his helmet - with marvellous designs each more spectacular than the last - but with no one ever seeing his face. Let the tabloids speculate, each headline more fantastical than the last. Perhaps he would bait the rumours, lead them down rabbit hole after rabbit hole, letting them chase after false truths.

He would arrive at the grid already in his helmet, never letting anyone see his actual identity - it would drive the fans wild! And he would race under the Dutch flag, just so he could one day have more triumph than Jos, so that the man could no longer claim to be the best Dutch driver as he was so currently doing.

Yes, he could see it now… Aurelio - The mystery driver!

Something must’ve shown upon his face, as Charles started smiling.

“Well then, we going with Aurelio?” he asked, wings flicking out excitedly.

“We’re going with Aurelio!” Max responded, before pulling Charles into the nest, where they stayed cuddled for the rest of the night.

The next month, when carting began again, there was a new cart upon the track. With Max being absent for a season, he had slipped from the minds of those about the track, so no one made the assumption between Max vanishing in 2011 and Aurelio appearing in 2013. Of course, everyone took note when he started to win.

First place after first place was claimed by the driver in the only helmet without sponsors. Aurelio - the name started to be muttered around the track, parents watching as this child came from nowhere to absolutely wipe the floor with their child in a race. 

No sponsors. No mentor. All the wins.

Who was this child? 

The only one who came close to beating him was one Charles Leclerc. There was a famous confrontation between them, which also happened to be one of the first times anyone heard Aurelio speak.

A brave reporter went up to Aurelio after the race, asking a question she thought she wouldn’t get a reply to, “Aurelio! What happened?” 

“No, it's just unfair. I’m leading, he wants to pass, he pushes me, I push him back, and then after he pushes me off the track. It's not fair.” Aurelio grumped - his suit was soaked and it was cold!

The same reporter, feeling a future rivalry on her hands, hurried over to ask Charles. “Charles! What happened with Aurelio?”

“Nothing, it was just an ‘inchident’ in the race,” Charles waved away the reporter, his eyes glimmering with humour. 

Once the reporter was out of sight, Charles and Max slipped into the same garage. Both took one look at each other and promptly burst into laughter. Charles hurried over, helping Max to slip out of his soaked race suit, before starting to tug off the bandages. Underneath, his wings were sodden.

“I could wring these out like a towel!” Charles joked, helping Max move to stand in the bathtub. 

He looked a right sight there, naked apart from his underwear with soaked wings and a mildly pissed-off expression on his face. With a grin that Charles should’ve noticed and taken cover after seeing, Max extended his wings as wide as they would go (about half open) before shaking them.

“Max!” Charles exclaimed as he was covered with droplets of freezing water.

Max only stopped once his wings were no longer soaking, but by that time, Charles was suitably wet as well. Upon seeing the state of his red-feathered flockmate, Max couldn't help the hysterical laughter that bubbled out of his throat. Charles’s hair was plastered down, completely covering his eyes.

“Very funny,” he grumped, before throwing a towel at the still-laughing Max, “dry yourself now!”

“No! No! No! Charlie! No! Sorry!” Max stumbled out of the bathtub, rushing to embrace Charles, a slight grin still on his lips.

“Don’t you dare come anywhere near me!” Charles started to move away from Max - even if he’d been somewhat soaked by the shaking from earlier, Max was still so much more soggy than Charles. 

The pair chased each other around the garage, Max trying to shake his soggy wings over Charles, and Charles desperately trying to avoid him. They only stopped when Max’s wings started to dry out. They had to stop, retreating into Charles’s nest to preen the massive wings before they became matted.

Outside, a reporter posted the video, not realising the impact it would have on future generations to come.

Outside, kids began to take note of the rivalry between Aurelio and Leclerc. Had something happened between them? Did they know each other outside of carting? Would this rivalry continue in Formula One (by this point it was all but certain both boys would be going there eventually)?

Inside, two very sleepy boys were napping together, white wings drawn over them both like a blanket, not knowing that a checkpoint in their history had just been made.

The inchident had just happened.

Chapter Text

Of course, you couldn’t survive in carting on your own forever, no matter how good you were, especially as Max was looking to leave carting next year for single-seaters. And for that, he needed help. Preferably from someone already experienced in the field of racing. Preferably someone with connections. Preferably someone who already knew Max…

Would… Perhaps… Might… Christian? The older avian had taken a liking to Max, back when he was still going as Max Verstappen - and he seemed to dislike Jos enough not to tell him what Max was up to… And he still had the man’s contact information…

Max to Christian

Hello? Is this still Christian’s contact information?

Max! Hello, kiddo! How’ve you been?

Good! I’ve been emancipated for a while now!

Ah, congratulations! I was wondering when Jos stopped dragging you around everywhere.

Yeah I’ve been living with a friend in Monaco now

Good for you!

Well, why’ve you reached out? Not that I’m unhappy to hear from you! Just curious.

Have you been keeping up with carting recently?

Yes! Are you still watching?

Sort of? The friend I’m staying with is carting, so I go to a few of the races with him.

Oh brilliant!

And I have been keeping up with carting recently, have you seen Aurelio?

I mean, wow! Look at that kid go!

You think he’s good?

Absolutely brilliant!

Would you support him?

As a driver or a person?

Either way, absolutely.

That kid is going places and I’d be ever the moon to help him do so!

Seriously!

Well yeah! You’ve seen him race!

[Photo of a Max sat in a cart - notably, Aurelio’s cart - with Aurelio’s helmet in his hands]

Still up to support me?

Oh my god yes! 

Yes!

Yes!

Absolutely you absolute child prodigy!

Oh my god, this is amazing!

Max! You're Aurelio??

Yep!

You working with me then?

Max.

If you work with literally anyone else.

I will fight them for the right to be your manager.

Seriously??

Yes! 

I was actually upset when you stopped carting,

but knew that it had to be a personal decision,

so didn’t want to mention it to you.

But if you’re going back to carting,

I’d be happy to bring out the plans I had for you before you stepped out.

Plans?

What do you think your Dad was talking to me so much over?

Fair.

Do you have a copy of the mentoring agreement?

Yeah, I'll send it over now, give me a second to change the names. Is your legal name still the same?

Yep!

[Attatched Document]

Max quickly scanned over the document, it was simple, and there would no doubt be more complex documents to follow, but that was a problem for the lawyer he would pass the issue on to. As it was, this was a good enough starting contract, and he quickly downloaded, printed, signed and sent a photo of the document back to Christian. He was slightly surprised by how eager the man was to sign him, but with how much Christian was about him as a child, he must've seen something useful in him. Especially as he was now winning all the carting races.

Back in Vienna, Toto knew Christian was up to something. His Blue Jay husband had been unbelievably chipper all weekend, and happened to have that smug smile upon his face that spelled disaster for everyone involved. The last time that expression had been upon his face, Christian hd just signed Sebastian Vettle, so Toto was right to be nervous.

In fact, his husband was so chipper that not even the mention that Lewis Hamilton was racing for Mercedes now seemed to waver his happiness. Eventually, after seeing the grin on his face lasting an entire day, Toto felt he had to say something.

“Chris?” he asked, as the two of them were sitting down for dinner one evening, “Is there something going on?”

A guilty expression came across Christian’s face. Bingo, Toto thought, I knew he was up to something.

“I’ve just signed a driver I’ve been looking at for a while. They’re going to single-seaters next year, and I’m just very happy to be working with them!” Christian hurried to explain, a smile pulling on his mouth whenever he mentioned the driver.

“That must be some Carter,” Toto nodded, knowing that he too would be very happy over signing a much-desired driver, “but I wish your Carter luck going up against Aurelio next year.”

Christian grinned. This grin wasn’t nice like the one had been when he was telling Toto about his newest mentee, but rather the grin of a shark smelling blood in the water.

“That won’t be an issue,” Christian smirked, wings fluttering excitedly, “As he can’t compete against himself.”

“You’ve signed Aurelio,” Toto asked, dumbfounded.

“I’ve signed Aurelio.” Christian grinned, smile somehow growing wider still.

There were a few moments, of silence, Christian beaming, Toto slowly growing more horrified.

Eventually...

"For fucks sake!" Toto grumbled, throwing his hands up and stomping out of the room.

"Love you too!" Christian called after him, cackling between the words.

He then had to hastily duck a cusion thrown at his head.

The laughter continued.

Max to Christian

Toto's grumping

I didn't tell hi your identity

Just that I'm mentoring Aurelio

Did he grump badly?

Oh yeah

Ha!

Chapter Text

Everything was going well. Max was winning all his races, Charles’s family had all but taken him in, and his YouTube channel was booming… he should’ve guessed something was going to go wrong.

A newspaper article happened to find his way onto Max’s door. The headline? Jos Verstappen’s legacy.

Born 2000? Born 2000? Max was only three then. Was this where Jos had been going every time Max had been left at his mother’s house? The divorce hadn’t even been finalised by that point!

And the boy was already getting podiums in carting… how quickly Max had been replaced…

It was there that Charles found Max later in the day, curled into the nest, wings pulled tight around him, desperately shielding him from the world. Tear tracks stained his face, and his eyes were red and puffy. Quiet sobs kept escaping from where he had tried to muffle them beneath his hand.

“Hey! Hey! Max, Emi what’s going on!” Charles raced to his partner’s side, sliding into the nest with practised ease.

Max made no move to reply, merely curling further in on himself. His wings were shaking now, trembling with the sobs that wracked his body.

Charles looked about the room, desperately trying to find what had upset his flockmate. Eventually, he landed upon the newspaper clipping.

“Oh Max,” he sighed, “It’s alright!”

He took the angel into his lap, unfurling his wings so he could pull his partner to his chest. Running his hands up and down the soft wings, Charles comforted his partner, desperately trying to find a way to calm him down. But what could you say? He’d just found out his father had cheated on his mother, found out that he’d been replaced before he’d even left. 

“It’s over now, Emi. He doesn’t have any control over you anymore.” he soothed Max, whispering into his ear, “And what’s happening now? You’re doing so much better than him. You’re winning all of your single-seater races! And where’s your brother? Not even on the top step of the podium!”

Muffled laughter sounded from where Max had his face buried in Charles’s chest.

“Thanks, Charlie,” he smiled after a while, wiping his tears away.

It was a comfort, somewhat. No matter how badly Jos treated him, no matter how easily replaceable he seemed to be, he was going to spite him. It only just dawned on him what the article had actually said. Every time Frankie had an achievement noted, the name Aurelio was right there afterwards. His carting record was still untouched, he was still thought of as getting to Formula One before Frankie, and he was still there at every turn - always one step ahead of them. And they had no idea!

It was rather funny now he thought about it. Let them laugh about it, let them think what they want about him, he would prove them all wrong.

“Hey, Charles?” Max asked, his voice steady.

Charles turned to look, eyes curious, “What do you need?”

“Pass me my phone, please? I want to see what my Dad’s been saying about me.”

“No. That’s an awful idea, you know he’s going to be saying horrid things!”

“I know.” Max let out an eerie grin, “I want to see what he’s saying, so I can prove every single thing wrong.”

Charles met his eyes for several long moments, before nodding slowly and handing the phone over. The pair of them curled up together in the nest, as Max flicked his phone open, loading his father’s social media.

It was as bad as he expected.

Handing out with my son on Father's Day! 
[Attatched photo of father and son standing close together, the father with his arm over the son’s shoulder, their ram horns touching as their heads leaned together. Both were smiling proudly.]

Mini-Me on the track!
[Attatched photo of father and son standing in front of a cart, both smiling happily]

Too wet to drive today, so out for ice cream instead
[Attatched photo of father and son with ice-cream on the table. The window behind them shows a light rainstorm.]

Then he started to check some of the articles and newspapers that mentioned his name and his father.

Verstappen places Francis as legacy! 

Wonder Kid Verstappen on Holiday during Carting Season - father says that every kid deserves a holiday.

Celebrations on the podium - Verstappen hugs third-place son

He wasn’t sure what hurt more. The fact that Jos was so happy for his son even when he failed, or that it seemed Jos had moved on so fast the moment Max cut contact. Perhaps he’d been preparing to cut contact the moment Franciscus was born.

And then he saw the posts about Aurelio.

Look at that kid go! That’s a proper racer.

This kid’s going places - Formula One places.

Any carters watch this kid, this is what you need to do.

An honour to the Dutch. Proud to have you as my countryman.

And then the most damning post.

If I could adopt you as my son, I would in a heartbeat. It would be an honour to be your father. I hope your Dad is as proud of you as he should be.

So it was never him being a bad driver. It was never him not being good enough, never him failing to meet expectations. It was just about him being Max. And for whatever reason, that seemed to be the only reason he didn’t like Max. And that last line… I hope your Dad is proud of you… Wasn’t that a kicker? 

Had he been born to anyone else, Jos would’ve been proud of him. 

But the thought of Jos’s face when he realised what happened crossed his mind. Let the old man continue to slight him online as Max and then praise Aurelio. His face would be priceless when the reveal happened, when he realised that the kid he abandoned as not good enough was the one he was now praising and saying he was so proud of.

He said as such to Charles, who took Max’s phone with a furrowed brow. A few clicks later and he had three newspaper articles up. The first was released when people realised Max had left.

It was rather interesting how different all the articles were. And slightly unnerving how the article about his brother and figured it out before Max had. But no matter, the real reason he'd looked at them was to compare to his brother. And this was all the reassurance he needed to know that he'd made the right move getting emancipated. But the line that said he'd be joining Red Bull soon? As if, he had at least three more years in single seaters before that happened... right.. right?

Chapter Text

The call came one morning in early September 2014. 

Max was in the middle of editing his latest race review video when he saw an unknown number call flash up on his phone. Now, most people would’ve ignored the call, or even hung up immediately, but Max wasn’t most people. If the person was calling this phone, it had to be important - this was his racing phone after all, and there was no chance of his number getting onto the list of any spam callers. 

He quickly paused his editing, picking up the phone. The area code was Austrian. It probably meant nothing. Maybe just Christian calling from an engineers phone?

Answering the phone, the last voice he’d expected to hear boomed out of his headphones. Max almost fell out of his chair in shock. Thankfully he didn’t - that would have been an awful first impression.

“Good morning, am I speaking to Aurelio?” A male voice sounded, authoritative and clear - the voice of a man used to having his orders quickly obeyed. Max recognised the man.

“Yes, you are. Am I correct in assuming I am speaking to Helmet Marco?” He politely greeted, desperately trying to think of all the instructions Horner had given him, should he ever meet Helmut. There weren’t many instructions, mostly it just boiled down to “be overly polite”.

“Correct. Do you have any commitments on, erm, the 5th of October this year, and then all of next year?” Helmut asked and… what? Why would he ask that?

Confused, he hesitantly replied “I mean, I have nothing on in October, but I was intending on racing next year. May I ask what’s going on?” Overly polite, overly polite, he chanted in his head.

“I have been trying to get into contact with your manager, however, he is telling me to go directly to you for anything concerning Red Bull, so I am asking you if you would be available to test run the Toro Rosso-Renault car of Jev in a practice session.” Helmut seemed rather annoyed about the manager thing, but that wasn’t what Max’s mind focused on. In fact, Max’s mind wasn’t thinking of much at that moment.

“…” He said nothing, eyes wide and mouth dropped open slightly. Helmet seemed to have anticipated that reaction, as the man remained silent.

So bewildered, Max shakily spoke up, “To confirm, you wish for me to test out in a Formula One car?”

“That is correct.” Helmet’s voice was level, though a slight smile could be heard.

“And would I be called in for further testing throught 2015?” Max’s mind was firing on all cylinders, however he failed to realise exactly what Helmut was planning.

“No, my intention would be to have you as a full-time driver in 2015,” Helmut informed, smile now very audible.

“What. What?? This man wasn’t serous. Was he going senile or something? Max tried to talk to him, figure out what was going on, “You are aware I am only been in single-seater cars for around a year, yes?”

“That is of no concern to me. I have seen your track record, seen how adaptable you are, and you are fitting in well in the Red Bull Junior Acadamy. If you fail miserably in the test, you will not be brought in, of course.” The reply was so flippant, so dismissive of the - of what Max thought to be rather major concerns - that all he could do was reply in shock.

“Of course,” he said, thankful that he didn’t stutter, “Shall I be at the race track in October?”

“If you can, do you have a way to get out there?” From the way Helmet asked, most would assume he didn’t care if Max had a way to get out or not. But Max had lived with Jos for many years, and so was well practised in reading emotionally compromised idiot. Helmet was actually concerned as to whether he could make it out or not. 

“I can fly with Christian or Jules, it will not be an issue,” Max reassured the old man, careful to not make it sound like he’d noticed the worry. In his haste to not point out that he noticed one of Helmut’s tells, he completely forgot that he hadn’t gone public with any of his friends of manager. Oops? Maybe Helmut would ignore it…

“… I was unaware you were associated with either.” His voice was curious. Ah. Damn it. Well, let’s just go for the truth, try and direct any questions to Christian as well.

“Horner is my manager and I am friends with the Leclerc family,” Max explained - simple, to the point, and careful not to give more information about himself than required.

“Well, that is all the more incentive to bring you into the team then. Explains why your manager was unwilling to talk to me, that would be a rather difficult case to avoid bias in, wouldn’t it!” Helmut grumbled, tapping sounds on the other sound telling Max that Christian was getting a strongly worded email. Oh well, his problem, not Max’s.

“Yes sir.” Be polite, be polite, be polite…

“Good, you have some manners for a child. See you at the track in October.” Helmut dismissed Max easily. But hey! His manners had been noted!

Helmet hung up the phone before Max even had a moment to respond.

What the fuck had just happened?

One moment he was peacefully editing a video, thinking about the next race he was about to enter in Formula 3 (a series he would later go on to win by a considerable margin), when the next thing he knew he was being told there was a high likelihood of him racing in Formula One next year. He hadn’t even been in Formula 2 yet! He was testing in Formula One…

He was testing in Formula One!

Oh my god…

He was testing in Formula One!

Racing out of his room he tore through the house.

“Charlie! Charlie! Charles Leclerc!” He sprinted about, shouting for his flockmate.

Charles came tumbling out, hearing the shouting and fearing the worst. He hopped out of his room, one leg stuffed into his trousers, jumper on the wrong way round. His eyes were wide in panic until he saw the gleeful expression upon Max’s face.

There, he quickly righted himself, shoving his trousers on the right way, with a bashful look on his face.

“Is everything alright? What’s going on?” He asked, confused as to what was going on.

Max just took Charles by his hands, leading him into the nest in the lying room. He carefully rearranged the blankets, before turning to face Charles. He grasped the other boy’s hands and stared deep into his eyes.

“I’m testing in Formula One.” he grinned, wings all but trembling in his excitement.

Charles was frozen in shock for several long moments. Finally, he came back into awareness.

“You’re driving in Formula One?” the red-winged avian gasped.

At his partner's nod, Charles yanked Max forward, right into his lap.

“You’re driving in Formula One!” he cheered, enthusiastically hugging the daylights out of Max. 

The call to Christian was equally enthusiastic, though without Max ending up in his lap, which Max was rather thankful for. It turned out that he had had an idea, especially after a discussion with Helmut, but didn’t say anything to Max, not wanting to push his views.

The days up to October 5th seemed to speed fast.

Then the day arrived. Max ended up flying out with Christian. This would be his debut into Formula One, and everyone was expecting him to reveal his identity. 

He wasn’t going to.

Immediately after leaving the plane, Max slipped away from the rest of the group, eager to keep his identity secret that tiny bit longer. It was a very rainy day as well, which helped him hide.

But there was no hiding in the garage. 

Before entering, he slipped into the toilets. In the space of a second, his mask was firmly in place. It was a gift from Charles. They had been talking about how Max was planning to keep his identity a secret, when Charles jumped up, running off to his room to return with the box. 

There were a few items in it. Number one - a race-suitable balaclava in navy, the number 33 printed upon the neck in white. Number two - a sleek pair of orange and white snowboarding sunglasses - again, the number 33 embroidered into the thick band that wrapped around his head, this time in orange. The third and final gift - a simple cap - once again white, with a navy 33 embroidered upon the front. His mask. Perfectly personalised. Perfectly designed to conceal his identity.

It was a wonderful gift, so thoughtful of his flockmate! And it was so helpful, especially as every eye turned to him the moment he stepped into the garage. 

The engineers were ever so lovely, and they helped him into the car, letting Max put his helmet on in private… And then he began. 

It was a fairly miserable day, but he was driving a Formula One car! In fact, he was so exited, that he completely forgot to be nervous until he returned to the garage (after a wonderful couple of laps in the practice session) to find everyone there staring at him, bug eyed.

“What did I do?” he quickly asked, hopping out of the car and over to the race engineers, peering at their computer screen.

The mechanics merely pointed to the computer screen. A time of 1 minute, 35.541 stared back at him. A time that neatly split the Mercedes drivers. A time that had him second place in the practice session.

The results were so unexpected that the media teams had no pictures to place in the graphics. Instead, the virtual podium had the Mercedes drivers and then a black space—the number 33 printed there instead of the photo.

Aurelio turned back to the mechanics, tilting his head slightly, in faux confusion.

“What?” he asked, a slight grin in his voice, “Is that bad? I wasn’t pushing as much as I could given the weather, but if you want me to head back out for another lap I think I could do better?”

Somewhere in the back a mechanic almost fainted. Another mechanic ran off to speak to Helmut Marco. Meanwhile, Aurelio was still chatting to the engineers.

“-yeah so I was looking at that corner, and I think I could break slightly later… and over here I could drop a gear sooner…” he was saying, the shocked strategists watching in awe, nodding along but not really hearing what he was saying.

In the corner of the garage, through the practice session, Jean-Eric Vergne’s face slowly shifted from a worried grin at seeing a young kid in his car, to a worried grin that he might be loosing his seat next year. But as he was asked if he would mind sitting out for one more practise session, he quickly agreed. It was clear who was going to get the priority here - and he had enough sensibility to graciously step to the side.

And so Aurelio was in his second practise session. And this time he set the fastest lap. 1 minute, 34.319. A whole 0.759 seconds faster than Lewis Hamilton in second place. The crowd was up on their feet - the stadiums shaking with the sound of the shouting. In contrast, the garage was dead silent. 

There had been some disagreement originally, some of the mechanics didn’t want a kid in the car, thinking it would be far too much repair work. There was even some disagreement from JEV, not wanting his car to be wrecked. Now? The garage was dead silent. No one could believe what had happened.

This kid - this child - managed to hop in the car for the very first time, and topped the timing charts. This was JEV’s fourth year driving a Formula One car, and he had never once got close to topping the time charts, in any practice session, race or qualifying. It was quite unnerving. Especially as the kid seemed unhappy with his results.

Aurelio was immediately out of the car, and immediately over to the time charts and data. He was pouring over the numbers, chatting with the mechanics, asking question after question, trying to understand the car better, to understand his own weak points. He was still chatting when JEV slipped back into his car for the third practice. 1 minute 35.494 seconds. Slower than the kid, almost an entire second than the kid. Damn. Damn!

He pushed out of the car, huffing his way over to the mechanics. 

“You’ll do better in qualifying,” his race mechanic smiled, patting him on the shoulder. 

But JEV couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes drifted over to the kid, who was still chatting with the team. All the adults had gathered around the masked driver, hands resting on his shoulders and they pointed out race data to him. Their eyes were fond, far fonder than they had ever looked at JEV with. Qualifying would be better. Of course, qualifying would be better…

Out in Q2, eleventh place. A time of 1 minute 34.984 seconds. Still slower than Aurelio. 0.665 seconds slower. Then he made the mistake of looking up at the broader timing sheet. Even with his practice session three time, a time the kid would no doubt have improved upon had he been allowed to drive for longer. The time meant he missed out on P3 by 0.018 seconds… He could’ve been on the podium in his first time in a Formula One car - in a Formula One car that hadn’t qualified above a six, and even that was a rarity.

And the ominous presence of the kid remained in the garage throught the race. He was always there, looming by the engineers, watching the data as it streamed in. he seemed ridiculously comfortable there, even when only meeting the team today, they embraced him as one of their own immediately (far quicker than they embraced JEV, he noted with a grumble). But still, he was the one in the car, not that damned kid (but still, oh how he adored watching the kid race. It was a wonderful thing to watch - that purple helmet streaking down the track. It was truly a thing of beauty… or at least, it would be if Aurelio wasn’t set to take over his seat.)

The stunning appearance of Aurelio was almost overshadowed by the race. After a very dangerous race, drivers were calling for red flags. The visibility was poor, the situation was dangerous… and then the crash happened.

Aurelio was listening to the radios when it happened, and watching the cameras he saw the crash happen, as close as anyone could’ve been.

Bianchi, who had ignored the yellow flags, lost control of his Marussia at 213 km/h, veering right towards the run-off area on the outside of the Dunlop Curve. Aurelio watched in horror as the car flew through the air, his only thoughts were what Charles was thinking. Thankfully, due to a check fefore the session that realised the settings of his brake-by-wire system were incompatible, Jules was able to apply his throttle and brake pedals simultaneously, his fail-safe system kicking into place. Still, the crash was brutal. Into the barriers at 70G, narrowly avoiding the crane, a crunching sound echoed from the car. A horrifying scream came through the race microphone - shielded from the viewers but in the ears of all the garages.

Marshals rushed to his side, pulling the unconscious man from his car - the weather miraculously clearing up just enough for a helicopter to get to the track, transporting Bianchi to the hospital within minutes. Aurelio focused entirely on the data - he would never get that shriek out of his head, but he could ignore it for the time being.

The race continued, no information being given to the rivers about the state of Jules. But by the time the red flag was called, a message was waiting on Max’s phone.

Charlie: He’s out of surgery.

Charlie: He’s awake 

Charlie: But its bad

Charlie: he’s lost his arm Max. He can’t drive

Charlie: But he’s awake

Charlie: He’s talking to me Max, hes awake thank god.

Max quickly hurried out of the garage, racing over to the drivers common room. He was looking for someone, anyone. And he found everyone. 

Breaking into the room, his eyes locked onto Daniel (Riccardo). 

“Riccardo!” he called, waving his phone in the air.

Every eye in the room turned to him, their faces red with tears.

“Kid?” Daniel asked, voice stuffy, “What’s going on?”

“Jules is awake!” Aurelio was quick to inform, “Charles just told me, he’s in the room with Jules now.”

That caught the attention of everyone.

“He’s up?” 

“Jules is awake?”

“Seriously?”

“Jules is alright?”

The noise filled the room, everyone speaking over each other, crowding towards Aurelio. Thankfully Aurelio had quite publically been friends with Charles, so having his contact information wasn’t something that needed to be explained away. 

Aurelio just nodded to everyone's questions, repeating the same answers over and over again. “Yes. Jules is awake. He’s talking to Charles. He is awake.”

But then someone asked the damned question.

“Do you know when he’ll be well enough to return to racing?”

Their faces were ernest, so hopeful, that Aurelio hated to be the one to break the news. But no one else knew, so it had to be him.

“He’s lost an arm,” best to rip the bandage off fast.

That silenced the room quickly, faces falling from relief to fear. But Jules was alive. He was alive and breathing and everything was alright. Not good, but it was alright.

And if it happened to overshadow how good Aurelio was, if people happened to forget about the shock he made on the timing sheet… all the better to surprise them with later!

Chapter Text

The beginning of the 2015 season was almost here. With a couple of test drives done, Max was getting more confident about interacting with fellow drivers. He had been a shadow in his junior season, skulking around everyone, avoiding conversations and hang-outs, terrified someone would realise his identity and tattle to Jos. 

Now that he knew the other drivers better, partially due to Christian brining him to every race so he could meet the mechanics and practice studying the team data, he felt more comfortable trusting them. Most of them were very lovely and seemed to get along well. There were a lot of arguments between the Mercedes drivers… though something seemed to be off about that. But before he could ponder that further, Herz was around his ankles, headbutting his wings frantically, barking her head off. Right. He had been about to take her on a walk. The morning walk was usually Charles’s job, but he was on a family trip somewhere and had been gone the past week.

It was a bit of a hassle to get Herz’s harness on, but once done she sat by the door, tail thumping the floor as Max faffed around getting his shoes on. She looked so sweet sitting there. 

So sweet that Max couldn’t help but snap a quick photo, quickly posting it.

Quickly locking the door, Max headed out on the walk. Nothing interesting was going on. There were a couple of cars speeding down the streets, a few people going about their day, a cute couple with a bulldog… wait… what was that? Max quickly turned, eyes going back to the couple with the bulldog. A man with braids and ridiculously fashionable clothes and pointy doberman ears was walking hand in hand with a slightly taller man with long blonde hair and small swan wings. Between them was a young bulldog. As Max stared at the couple, the blond man happened to turn back. He caught Max’s eye and froze. His partner walked on, only stopping when he realised the blonde had frozen. Then he too turned, locked eyes, and froze. By that point though, the blonde had regained his mind. He beckoned Max over and into a nearby cafe.

It was a quiet place, with warm lighting and lots of smaller, private rooms. It was one of these areas where the trio were sequestered, the two dogs on the floor getting on well. The two men looked very nervous, hands locked underneath the table, ears and wings twitching nervously. Lewis went to talk, but Max quickly spoke up.

“So is the rivalry being faked? Or have you just made up real quickly?” he asked, head nodding at the joined hands.

“Look, you can’t talk about this on your channel. Please!” Lewis was quick to ask, voice very hushed.

It was at that moment that Max remembered that he wasn’t here as ‘fellow gay driver’ but rather ‘very popular YouTuber who makes videos about drivers’. No wonder they were worried. But how could he bring up his identity? Did he want to bring up his identity? A quick glance across the table at the nervous pair and his answer was obvious.

“Could we have this conversation back at my place?” he asked quietly, “It’s a couple of minutes' walk away and very private.”

The pair glanced between themselves, seemingly coming to a decision. Lewis nodded, sliding out of his seat and offering Nico a hand up. Rosco jumped up, waddling over to his dads, whilst Herz slunk over to Max, winding about his legs.

The walk back to Max’s place was one of the most tense he had ever been part of - and he used to live with Jos.

Once inside Max led the pair through the hallways and into the living room. Sitting down in the nest, he invited the pair in, watching as they looked around the room. Nico spotted it first. Max knew that from the way his head shot around, mouth dropping open.

“No way!” The blonde exclaimed, body immediately relaxing.

Lewis still seemed on guard, not having spotted it yet. Max took pity on him, gesturing over to the corner. 

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” he started, voice sly, “Where do you store all of your helmets? Charles and I only have a handful and we’re already running out of room!”

At that, Lewis looked around, noticing the far wall. It was filled with shelves that were in the process of being completely covered with trophies and helmets. Notably belonging to Max, Aurelio and Charles. A few cute pictures of the couple were hung on the walls, as well as a giant pride flag. It was fairly self-explanatory.

“You’re Aurelio,” Lewis said, voice flat as if he didn’t believe what he was seeing.

Max nodded, “Yep.”

“And you are also Emilian.”

“Yep”

“And you used to be…” Here he moved out of the nest to take a look at the old carting records, “Max Verstappen?!” 

“... surprise?” Max laughed at the look on the pair's face.

The yapping dogs shocked them back to life. Lewis went to get out of his seat, but Max beat him. The young man scooped up both dogs, depositing Rosco into Lewis’s arms, and putting Herz back on the sofa next to himself. The toller flopped into his lap.

Max turned to the older couple, “So,” he started, “What’s going on?”

Lewis leant back and gestured for Nico to speak. 

“So, we started to bicker a few years ago. It wasn’t anything overly bad, just some fun arguments, but the media began to spin it out of control.

The Silver War

Disruption In Mercedes - End of an Era?

Fallout! Childhood Friends to Enemies?

And we didn’t realise this at the time, but apparently, our bickering looks like actual dislike to outsiders. Toto realised we were playing around, but he was the only one. Even our mechanic started to get worried. But it was fun to bicker. We grew up arguing, just were able to keep it away from the media for most of our childhood. But that went away last year, especially when the title competition got more and more… well, competitive. Sometimes we did get actually angry with each other, but we always talked it out.” Nico explained cheerfully.

“Even after the whole 'we're not friend's any more,' interview?” Max couldn’t help but cheekily ask.

Nico reached over and tapped him on the head chidingly, but the move was lessened by how the older driver ruffled his hair immediately after. Max couldn’t help but lean into the touch. Charles was affectionate, as was his family, but there was something different about Nico and Lewis. The older swan driver even wrapped a wing around Max, not caring that Max's wingspan was at least four times his own.

“Yes even after the hat thing. We both apologised the moment we were back in our driver rooms. Lewis apologised so much after that,” Nico laughed, as Lewis winced from beside him.

That was all well and good, but still didn’t answer Max’s most burning question.

“Well, why haven’t you corrected the media?” he asked.

Lewis answered that, “Because it’s fun. Like how you and Charles keep bringing up the incident.”

“Yeah, but there’s a difference between bringing up a fight between kids and a public argument between best friends turned teammates.” Max laughed back, gesturing between the pair.

Lewis shrugged whilst Nico grinned.

“It is what it is. And we’re too deep into the act to stop now! You should see the plan for next season.” The blonde laughed, smile full of menace.

Max couldn't help but smile. It was like being at a sleepover and finding something new about your best friend. “Wait,” he asked, “Who else knows? Is there like a group chat or something?” he laughed, half joking about the group chat.

But Nico pulled out his phone, completely serious.

Are We The Drama?

Group Contains:

Christian - Peace Keeper

Toto - Big Bad Wolf

Lewis - #Blessed

Nico - Britney

Sebastian - Enabler

Britney added The Child to Are We The Drama?

Britney changed The Child to Little Lion Man

Little Lion Man: I was joking about the group chat…

Little Lion Man: Hi Christian!

Peace Keeper: Hello kiddo

Big Bad Wolf: Hi kid. Nico, why have you added him?

Britney: He found out the arguing was faked and that we’re together

Nico looked over to Max. “Wait. Shit. Do they know your identity?”

Max shrugged, “Nope! I’ll tell them now!”

Little Lion Man: Yeah I saw them in Monaco. I was walking Herz and he spotted Rosco

Big Bad Wolf: Hertz?

Little Lion Man: [Attatched Photo] - [A selfie of Max and Herz, both looking adoringly at the camera]

Big Bad Wolf: That’s a photo of Emilian?

Little Lion Man: Yeah that’s me

Enabler: Hold on

Enabler: If that’s the way you’ve revealed your identity

Enabler: You're an absolute legend

[Little Lion Man liked this comment]

Little Lion Man changed his name to Lion Cub

Lion Cub: I’m surprised Toto didn’t know

Lion Cub: Thought Christian would’ve told you

Peace Keeper: I didn't want to say anything in case you weren’t comfortable with it

Lion Cub: Oh! Thanks! 

Britney: So I’m still trying to piece things together but why did you think Christian would tell Toto?

Lion Cub: …

Pride And The Cub

Cub: They don’t know??

Papa: I thought they did. Liebe and I have been flirting in front of them for years

Cub: Well that’ll do it

Dad: What do you mean kiddo?

Cub: Well your flirting is usually arguing

Papa: But Lewis and Nico argue and take it as flirting

Cub: But they argue for fun and then flirt. You argue as flirting

Cub: Not the same

Cub: Also have you ever told people you were together, or just assumed that they knew?

Papa: …

Papa: Give us a minute to check that people do, actually, know

Mercedes AMG F1

Peter Bonnington: So if everyone could just send over the meeting notes that would be great!

Paddy Lowe: There was a meeting today?

Toto W: Can I just check something?

Paddy Lowe: Hey Toto! Go ahead.

Peter Bonnington: Is it to do with next year's car?

Peter Bonnington: Please tell me this isn’t about Lewis and Nico again

Lewis H: Oi!

Toto W: No I just needed to check you knew I was married

Peter Bonnington: Sorry? 

Paddy Lowe: You're what? To who?

Lewis H: I’m sorry??

Nico R: For the first time in years I agree with Lewis.

Nico R: Who the hell are you married to??

Toto W: Huh

Toto W: Did not realise you didn’t know

Toto W: You don’t need to know who I’m married to

Toto W: Nico, Lewis, check the Drama group chat

Peter Bonnington: What other group chat?

Lewis H: Don’t worry about it, Bono

Pride And The Cub

Papa: So no, my people didn’t know

Papa: [Attatched Screenshot 1]

Papa: [Attatched Screenshot 2]

Dad: Hold on

Dad: Let me talk to my people?

Infiniti Red Bull Racing

C.Horner: Hello all, just checking I did inform you all I was married? I just checked with HR and they all knew, but am only 90% sure I told you, so just wanted to check.

D.Ricciardo: Sorry what?

A.Newey: I was unaware of your marriage. Congratulations, how long has it been?

C.Horner: Apologies, I thought you were aware.

C.Horner: We’ve been together since 2008.

D.Kvyat: Congratulations! Can I ask who your wife is?

C.Horner: My partner and I have decided to keep our relationship private, but thank you for the congratulations.

Are We The Drama?

#Blessed: Toto! What do you mean you're married??

Britney: Yeah Toto! Since when were you married?

Big Bad Wolf: Christian and I have been married since 2012, not too long

Peace Keeper: We genuinely didn’t realise you didn’t know

Enabler: I knew!

Peace Keeper: Yeah we know that you know

#Blessed: There’s a story there?

Lion Cub: They forgot to lock the door!

Lion Cub: Seb saw something!

Enabler: They were fucking!

Peace Keeper: THANK YOU SEB! THAT’S ENOUGH!

Big Bad Wolf: Really, Seb? Stop traumatising your TP.

Enabler: Sorry~

Lion Cub: No you're not

Enabler: Yeah I’m not

#Blessed: Alright can we stop talking about them sleeping together?

Britney: Yeah I really don’t want to think about that?

Lion Cub: Lucky you

Lion Cub: You only have to think about it

Lion Cub: Some of us have memories!

Big Bad Wolf: Oi! You’re embarrassing Chris, cut it out.

#Blessed: You didn’t invite us to the wedding!

Big Bad Wolf: It was just a few people, we didn’t purposely exclude you

#Blessed: Fine 

#Blessed: Only a few people know?

Big Bad Wolf: Less than twenty people, promise!

Britney: That does explain why HR was so good about our relationship

Looking up from where the group were texting, Max looked sheepishly at the other two.

“Can I tell you something that I might’ve lied to Dad and Papa about?” he asked sheepishly.

Nico was quick to respond, “Of course!” he grinned, “and I’m just going to ignore you calling Toto and Christian dad for my own sanity.”

“Ah. Yeah, it’s a long story,” Max waved the idea away, “but I… me and Charles might… kind of… be married?”

There was stunned silence before realisation dawned on Nico’s face.

“To get you emancipated!” he grinned, not seeing anything wrong.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Lewis exclaimed, mouth dropping open, “is everyone here married except me and Nico?”

Max just nodded and Lewis dropped back into the sofa, head in his hands. 

“I can’t believe it,” he grumped, “How is everyone married before us?”

Max looked over to Nico who gave a sheepish smile.  After this season, he mouthed, over the head of Lewis who was still looking shocked.  

“So genuine question,” Max asked, pulling the conversation back around, “What’s the plan for next season? More arguing? Or are you going to make up and be friends again?”

There was cackling from the other two, and Max very quickly realised that they were not becoming friends again, at least not publicly.

“No way!” Lewis grinned, “We’re making the arguments so much worse!”

Chapter Text

And make the arguments so much worse they did. Every single race it seemed they found something new to hate each other over - the tension building in the garage. But no one seemed to notice the smiles.

No one seemed to notice the grins they shot at each other as they backed away to opposite sides of the garage, being dragged off by their mechanics. Well, almost no one. There was a very exasperated Toto Wolff in the back of the garage, head in his hands as he watched his drivers bicker. 

A few people patted him on the shoulder, wrongly assuming he was annoyed with the constant arguing. Toto actually found the arguing rather funny, but if he were to start laughing at them, the media would be all over it. The only thing stopping him from bursting into laughter was the thought of the headlines that would appear - Toto Wolff, Driven to Mania by Driver Drama!

And so naturally, after he voiced this to said drivers (a rather silly mistake in hindsight), they went out of their way to be as obnoxious as possible for the media. Every day Toto would wake up, check his phone, see forty or so texts from PR, sigh, and promptly roll over and go back to sleep.

One person who wasn’t sleeping as easily, though, was Aurelio. 

Even though his testing in 2014 was largely overshadowed, the numbers still floated around. And it was especially bad given this would be his official debut. 

The Australian GP was two weeks away.

“-yeah I’m looking forward to next season! I probably won’t be livestreaming my reactions to these races anymore…” 

What???/??

WHy?

Is everything alright?

Did someone sue youw??

Nooooooooo!!

“I know… I know… There’ve just been a few personal life changes that would make it very difficult. I promise I’ll do a debrief the day after though! Have it uploaded within two days”

Max was live-streaming. He’d initially planned a Minecraft stream but wasn’t really in the mood, so quickly pivoted to a more chill chatting stream. He was lounging on the couch in his office, feet tucked under him and a Bengal cat in his lap. The tablet in his hands had chat open, and he was glancing between that and the camera. 

Did you say what team u supported?

He doesn’t pick a team!

Duh everyone knows hes impartial

OMG ur so pretty!

No way! He’s gotta have a favourite!

Who’s ur driver dude?/

He’s a RB fan, its gotta be that new driver!

Aurelio?

Who’s that?

There’s a new driver?

WHat?

Post a new video!

The kid?

Is he good?

Kid’s gonna fail so bad

Going to be so many crashes this year…

Max was scanning the chat, a frown slowly appearing.

“Hey now!” he chastised them, “don’t be cruel. And yes, I know I’ve previously said that I was impartial, but I don’t know… might root for Aurelio? Support the rookie, you know?”

Yes!!

Oh my god someone who knows about aurelio??

Another Lion Fan!

Lion fan?

There’s kid’s in F1 now?? Seriously??

Why’re u calling him a kid?

Yeah, his name’s got Leo in it 

I mean it’s lio but close enough

Kid’s 17, hes literally a kid

Oof good luck watching the races this year lol

“Yeah yeah chat. We’ll see if I’m still a fan after this race,” Max grinned. It was the type of grin that implied he knew something that the fans did not (true) but thankfully they didn’t pick up on it. Well, mostly didn’t pick up on it…

Was that a smirk???

…

DO you think they know eachother??

…

…

What if they’re dating!

…

Awww! Is ship them soo badly!!

Aurlian? GoldenEmi? Emilio?

…

…

Aww Emilio!

Well. Huh. That… wasn’t exactly ideal, but at least they hadn’t made the link between his identities. And it was only the small majority of people, so as long as it didn’t get too popular then maybe everything would be alright. And it would explain if they were seen in the same space… with the same clothes… 

No… was he seriously considering dating himself? Was he actually going to do that? Hmmm…

A donation broke him out of his thoughts. Right! He was lifestreaming! Thankfully he’d zoned out looking at the chat, so no one really noticed (it would be used by the shippers in all of those ‘compilation of proof’ videos). With a smile, he slipped back into media persona mode.

“Well, I don’t know guys.  Check my Twitter after the race. Actually, how about we make a bet?” he grinned cheekily, “I bet he’ll finish in the top ten!”

No way!

You’ve lost your mind dude

It’s a rookie?

He’s seventeen lol

I’ll donate a grand if that happens 

I believe he will! Proud member of the lion pride!

Booo! 

Ha! I’ll watch all of the Pride cry afterwards

Pride?

Lion = Lion Pride

Watch him crash in the first turn

Ooh thats where the Pride name comes from

“Top ten guys, trust me! Hah… no… I hope so but… you know…”

The stream wrapped up quite soon after that, with Max collecting his final donations, and saying all of his goodbyes. He’d been streaming for five hours, and no, it totally wasn’t to avoid thinking about the race, what are you talking about?

Hah… He was totally avoiding thinking about it.

His nerves were starting to get to him. For all the calm and collected attitude he tried to present to the world, for all the nonchalance he displayed when chatting to the engineers, for all the times he was practising racing, he was absolutely terrified. He was waking up in nightmares almost every night. Dreams of crashing into the barrier, being dead last, and being laughed out of the track filled his mind. 

What if Jos was right? What if he was truly a bad driver? If he was truly fit to be no more than a bus driver?

Once again, Jos’s voice became a constant presence in the back of his mind. That ever-present little chatter, like common sense but self-deprecating. Twelve days until the Australian GP. You’re going to crash. You’re going to have the shortest time as a driver ever. You won’t even be as good as me.

Eleven days to the Australian GP. He hadn’t slept in over 60 hours. Perhaps it was because of that that he ended up texting the group chat.

Are We The Drama?

Lion Cub: Guys wjat if i crash

Lion Cub: Im going to be aful

Lion Cub: THis is goin to go soo wrong

Lion Cub: HElp 

Peace Keeper: Emi? Kiddo is everything alright?

Big Bad Wolf: Kiddo what’s going on?

Lion Cub: I shouldnt be driving

Lion Cub: Im going to fail

Peace Keeper: Emi have you been thinking about your bio father?

Lion Cub: Yhe he’s right

Peace Keeper: No he’s not kiddo

Peace Keeper: Can you go and find Charlie for me? Or add him to this group?

Lion Cub added Charlie <3 to Are We The Drama?

Lion Cub changed Charlie <3 ‘s name to Charles

Enabler changed Charles ‘s name to Maxie’s Boy

Peace Keeper: Not the time Seb

Enabler: yeah fine

Peace Keeper: Hello Charles, sorry to drag you into this, but Max needs to sleep as I think he’s been awake for a few days with bad thoughts.

Maxie’s Boy: Hi? I don’t know who any of you are but you seem to know Max. Give me a moment.

…

Maxie’s Boy: Alright Max is asleep in bed. 

Maxie’s Boy: Who are you?

Peace Keeper: Thanks for that Charles

Peace Keeper: I am Christian Horner

Big Bad Wolf: My name is Toto Wolff

Enabler: Sebastian Vettel!

#Blessed: I’m Lewis and Britney is Nico

Britney: Hi Charles!

Maxie’s Boy changed their name to Charlie

Charlie: Oh my god…

Charlie: I’m in a group chat with all of you??

Charlie: Oh my god…

Charlie: Give me a minute. I’ll speak to you when Max wakes up?

Charlie: Oh my god I can speak to Vettel and Hamilton and Rosberg oh my god

…

Lion Cub: Snitches

Lion Cub: But thanks, I’m feeling better now

#Blessed: No worries kiddo, we were all stressed before our first race

Britney: Yeah even Lewis!

Charlie: I am so confused about the dynamics here…

Lion Cub: I’ll explain out of the chat. It’s a long story.

The rest of the day leading up to the race passed by in a flash. Between all the race practice on the simulator and Charles freaking out over being added to the group chat and finding out all of the gossip (and having to be sworn into not telling anyone), Max was remarkably relaxed. (Charles, on the other hand, was getting more and more stressed). 

The night before he was packing. Charles was pacing around the bedroom, checking the list twice and thrice again.

“Charles,” Max grinned, “I’ve packed. It’s all in there, love.”

“But what if you’ve forgotten something? What if something goes wrong and you haven’t got a- a- an emergency shirt?” Charles was panicking now.

“Charlie! It’s all packed. Relax!” Max was laughing now, pushing his partner back onto the bed, breaking his pacing by curling up into his lap. Instantly hands curled up around him and into his wings, lightly tugging the feathers - soothing, but more so for Charles than Max.

“Everything is going to be fine,” Max soothed, resting his head on Charles’s chest.

“I know,” the other man sighed, “I just worry, especially with Jules’s crash and all that…”

“I’ll be fine,” he reassured once again.

They spent the rest of the day cuddling in a make-shit nest, preening each other’s wings, talking softly to each other (and naturally watching old races -they’re both obsessed with driving, of course they watch races to calm down). But soon it was time to leave.

Charles didn’t want him to go. He clung to him in the nest, begging his flockmate to stay. The sight of his partner, tearstained face, begging him to stay was almost enough to change his mind. But then the thought of Jos flickered though his mind. This was his one chance to prove his father wrong, to prove he was good enough… He had to leave.

Four days until the Australian GP. He was sitting on a plane, wings carefully bound, all the pieces of his mask lying in his lap. It wasn’t that there was anyone who didn’t know his identity on the plane (they were on a private jet with Lewis, Nico, Toto and Christian), but the walk to the grid would likely have lots of cameras… and he’d probably be seen… and there might be a couple of interviews… anyway it was better if he wore the mask the moment he got off the plane. It wouldn’t be overly comfy, but it would be safe (at least the mask was comfy, he could just wear the goggles and hat, maybe throw on a plain face covering… call it his interview outfit, maybe sunglasses?).

“You still nervous Mate?” Lewis asked, from where he was curled up next to Nico. 

Everyone else on the plane was fast asleep, so Max felt he could have a private conversation.

“Shitting bricks,” he grumbled, “and that’s just about the media!”

That drew a laugh from Lewis. Up to this point, Max had been very careful to keep his oh-aren’t-I-just-adorable attitude that he would be using with the media. But Lewis had asked for honesty so… his own fault.

Lewis laughed for several long moments, before turning back to Max, “How are you planning to handle the media? With the secret identity and all that.”

“I’ve got this,” Max showed him the items in his lap - hat, mask and sunglasses. Pulling them on, he turned to Lewis. 

The older man had an impressed look on his face, “Wow,” he nodded, “I would never guess that was you. But you still look… how do I say this… like a person? I can see your expressions and that’s cool from a branding point.”

“I know right? It was a gift from Charlie,” Max smiled as he pulled off his mask.

“You’re a cute couple,” Lewis nodded towards Nico, “he’s joining you in F1, hopefully?”

“Yeah, that’s the plan. I think we might do a bit of an emotional support rivals act? As we both love how you mess with the media, but I could never pretend to be angry at Charlie that long.”

“But you’re still ridiculously competitive?”

“Yup. So… emotional support rivals!”

Lewis just stared at him for several long moments, “You’ll both fit so well into the grid,” he grinned, “Give the media hell?”

“Of course!”

And give the media hell he did.

As soon as the plane touched down, everyone was media-ready. With his mask fully in place, Max followed Christian out of the place. They successfully managed to split from the Mercedes lot, which would’ve been a media nightmare to explain, and into the track without being noticed.

But then a camera flashed. A journalist shouted. A few more flashing lights. More yells. Soon it seemed that every eye in the paddock was on Aurelio. Thankfully Christian was able to guide him into the Torro Rosso garage without too much intervention - everyone was stunned just long enough for them to be far enough away. 

His teammate was there, looking rather startled at the bright lights. Poor guy. 

“Hi there, I’m Aurelio,” he greeted, holding his hand out for the other driver to shake.

He did so, introducing himself as well, “Carlos Sainz… wow they weren’t joking about the identity thing.”

Poor guy, he seemed rather bemused by the situation. Nepo driver, perhaps? One he hadn’t been up against in carting, that’s for sure.

The rest of the day was split between hanging out with his mechanics (lovely people) and Carlos (Nice? His father reminded Max a bit of Jos, horns and all, so he hadn’t quite made up his opinion on Carlos yet. Also, the younger bull seemed convinced he would beat Max in the race… how assured he was of his own talent… hmmm).

Then the next few days were media. Fun! (Note the sarcasm).

Every interview seemed to be the same:

Will you reveal your identity?

No, for personal reasons I like my mask.

What’s your name?

Aurelio.

No, no, you’re real name!

Aurelio.

You’re a bit young to be driving in F1, don’t you think?

I was offered a seat, and so would be a fool not to take the opportunity. I will drive my best. Hopefully, that will be good enough.

You know it won’t matter where you place right? You’re the youngest ever rookie, just finish the race and that would be amazing.

I will drive to the best of my abilities.

Red Bull doesn’t seem to have a particularly fast car this season, does that bother you?

It is my first time in a Formula One driver spot, I am grateful for any seat they give me.

And his responses to the interviews grew his fanbase stupidly fast. It was almost ridiculous how much support there was behind one rookie driver. Some of the older drivers, the ones who had been established for a few years even started looking over at him, trying to pull him into conversation and interviews, desperate to get some of that good PR he brought with him.

Will the Little Golden Lion Roar?

Youngest Ever Driver Prowls Out Onto The Grid!

Golden By Name, Golden By Medals? Here’s everything you need to know about the driver Aurelio!

Little Lion Stuns World - The shining sun of Formula One seems to rise over the head of young Aurelio. Charming the media left and right, but will he have as much success on the track?

It was free practice, and the car felt lovely. Aurelio was careful though, not pushing the car to the absolute limits, being very careful to not go too far and crash. That was the last thing those doubting him needed, a crash on his first time in the car would be held over his head for the the of his racing career. He was still p9 on all the testing timesheets - notably above his teammate. Ha, take that.

Then it was qualifying. And if Red Bull gives you wing, Aurelio flew. Q1 - passed in P9. Q2 - passed in p5. And then, Q3, he pushed to the limits for the first time since getting in the car. A time of 1:27.837. Shouting drifted across his radio minutes later. It took a while for everything to make sense, but as his car was being directed back, something could be heard.

“-P6 Aurelio, that’s P6 you absolute mad kid!” was that his race engineer? 

Wait.. P6? Oh my god, he had qualified P6??? He met the exited cheering with a scream of his own, which only seemed to delight them further. The media after that was fun as well - everyone seemed to be infected with his joyful energy.

“So Aurelio,” one reporter shoved a microphone in his face, “P6 in your first race ey? That’s gotta be a record!”

They were clearly searching for a headline for when he crashed out the next day, so Aurelio was careful about how he replied, “It was an amazing result, and I am so thankful to the team that gave the car to make it happen.”

The reporter kept pushing, “You out-qualified your teammate and both drivers on the senior team, how does that make you feel?”

“Well, I will wait until after the race to celebrate my first GP,”

“Haha! Alright, see you then kid!”

Most of the reporters were the same. Compliment on the race, compared to other Red Bull drivers, maybe ask if he was nervous for the race. His reply was the same every time. PR was going to love him. 

After the third interview, he wasn’t even focusing on them anymore. His mind was entirely on the race, mapping the track in his head, hands subconsciously twisting an imaginary wheel, feet tapping at air where the pedals would be. But he slept soundly, and soon it was race day.

5... 4... 3... 2... 1... Lights out and away we go!

P6 start.

A good start, very clean, got into good air.

He overtook someone. It was clean, it was nice. His race engineer was cheering in his ear.

He overtook another person. His race engineer was beside himself.

A fast pit stop. Almost a new record. Far faster than the senior team’s pit stops.

Onto the final laps. 

Closing in on the car in front…

Another overtake!

Across the chequered flag!  

In his ear, the entire garage was screaming. “P3, Aurelio! P3,” they were screaming, “That’s a podium on your first race!”

A podium? On his first race? Huh… Jos had never got a podium in his entire racing career!

He let the cheering overtake him, ran into his team's waiting arms, and felt their love, their care for him. It was lovely.

Simply lovely.

Chapter Text

The celebrations after that were something else. A new record set - the youngest ever podium place, aged only seventeen and a half. A record that would likely never be broken.

Everyone was properly drunk, having downed the shots and gone out in the club until the early hours of the morning. Not Max though. If asked, he’d have waved them away, some excuse about wanting to keep his identity, or being too young to drink… or something. Anything that meant he was able to make his video. Because of course that was what the youngest ever podium sitter should be concerned about - more work.

But that was what happened. And so he was sat in a hotel room, microphone perched on the back of his bed, laptop on his lap. It wasn’t the best setup,  not compared to his specialised room back home, but he made it work.

“Alright guys! I’ve got my race pulled up on the screen now and if you want to watch along, i’ll call the starting lights out loud so you can sync there!”

“-so we’re only having 18 cars start… right… and of course Bottas is out with a back injury…”

“So were on the out lap and- oh my god! What’s happened there?!”

“-so it seems that Kvyat's Red Bull and Magnussen's McLaren have both broken down on the out lap! This is going to be a 15 car start! That’s lowest overall since the infamous 2005 United States Grand Prix!”

“... oh that’s a nice lead from Hamilton… worked the space well…”

“Oh my god! That’s Kimi- and the Torro Rosso… and who’s gone off? Oh it’s Maldonado… poor guy… Was Räikkönen hit by Nasr? Hold on, let me replay that… huh I think he was- Oh and the safety car’s out now…”

“-is that another failure? Grosjean’s car has stopped- that both Lotus out of the race!”

“Alright, everything seems to be going alright- and there was an over take from Aurelio! Very clean, very nice…”

“-and pit stop troubles for Räikkönen, that left rear tyre looks awful loose…”

“Another overtake for Aurelio, this is debut race I just want to remind you all-”

“Oh that was brilliant pit stop from the Torro Rosso team… truly textbook…”

“-and another overtake for Aurelio! He’s third with just a few laps remaining!”

“-and that’s the chequered flag! Wow… I was sort of joking about Aurelio being top ten… to be on the podium is just… wow…”

And he wasn’t lying at any point in his race recap. Just, saying what he was thinking during the race. And some of it was new as well, he hadn’t noticed just how many cars had to drop out. 

With the race recap done, Max quickly edited and uploaded it, watching as the likes and comments streamed in. A brief nap, and there seemed to be enough views on the video to warrant going live.

“Well, well, well! I do believe I won the bet!”

How did you know!

OMG that race was so cool!

Good start to the season

Cool? Nah it was boring!
Yeah Danny Ric said so!

Aurelio third!

“What’s that about Ricciardo?” 

Called the race boring

Said Merc dominance would bore fans

He’s just pissy that hes doing shit

Everyones figthing now

THe drama~

OMG I LOVE YOU EMI!

RB’s having engine issues and he was annoyed

“... alright I’ve just seen the clip. I think it was taken a bit out of context guys, come on. He was beaten by someone in the junior team, that’s gotta worry him a bit… It is nice to see the Merc boys getting along though, or at least Nico is praising Lewis…”

Yeah I give it five races

Noooo I want drama

No fun

I ship it!!

As if Lewis likes him back

Maybe they’re getting along now!

Getting along better than Toto and Christian

“Toto and Christian? What’ve they done now?”

RB calling for rule change to end dominance

Toto said to "get your f*****g head down and work to sort it out"

Toto swore!

RB’s a shit team and can’t accept being beaten lol

Horner wants a level field

“...right… I see.”

Pride And The Cub

Cub: “get your f*****g head down and work to sort it out” 

Cub: ???

Papa: Yeah I apologised to your Dad. It was a heat-of-the-moment thing

Dad: He’s on the couch tho tonight

Cub: lol

“Anyways… looks like it might be an exciting year? I think Mercedes is looking really strong, so we might be looking at a Hamilton-Rosberg title fight again, which will be really cool…”

The rest of the season went incredibly well. Aurelio never once ended up below where he qualified, staying in the top ten for the entire season. He even got four more third places, and two second places. A total of 241 points in his first season, just under 200 more than those in the main Red Bull team, and 226 more than his team-mate. Red Bull were absolutely besides themselves, what with all the speculation and laughter that had followed their signing of the seventeen year old.

And the mask remained on the entire time. 

Naturally, the newspapers were curious.

Future World Champion?

Aurelio pounced onto the scene this season, and made quite the stir! The young driver - once again unique with no known nationality - has followed his truly remarkable single seaters career with an equally impressive debut. 

Racking up seven podiums, the youth (who only turned eighteen halfway through the season), has made quite the introduction. And all of this whilst remaining completely faceless! Even those on his team have no idea who the young driver is, much to the annoyance of reporters, I have no doubt.

Chapter Text

The invite came early one January morning. It was an expensive-looking envelope, bright white that seemed to glow, with beautiful golden calligraphy. 

It is worth noting, that at this point most people still believed they hated each other. And that there are lots of people with the same initials. And that the letters were all sent to their personal addresses which only friends had access to. The point is, it was clear they knew these people. And so everyone RSPV’d. But they were all confused. 

Old Guys On Grid (+ Danny)

D.Ricciardo: Has anyone else got the wedding invitation?

S.Vettel: Yes! 

V.Bottas: Yeah I got one the other day. 

S.Vettel: They must be good friends of ours

J.Button: Why?

S.Vettel: Kimi and I got one together, and next to no one knows that we’re married. 

F.Alonso: Detective time?

S.Vettel: No Nano, no detective time. 

F.Alonso: Take all the fun out of life. 

N.Hulkenberg: Seriously does anyone know?

K.Raikkonen: No

J.Button: Not here. Mark doesn’t know either

L.Hamilton: No idea :)

S.Vettel: Great…

L.Hamilton: What’re you all wearing?

D.Ricciardo: On the RSPV thing it says to dress fancy for the red carpet, so I’ll probably wear a colourful suit? Maybe a dark green velvet one? 

J.Button: Ooo I might go for a proper fancy suit

D.Ricciardo: Something with cutouts?

J.Button: Maybe…

J.Button: I’ll look awesome!

N.Rosberg: Sure you’re going to wear something stupid again @L.Hamilton ?

L.Hamilton: Everything I wear is designer thank you very much

N.Rosberg: Proof money can’t buy class * rolling eyes emoji *

L.Hamilton: *Middle finger emoji*

Drivers Against Brocedes

Seb: JFC here we go again

Nano: Ayayay I was so hoping we were past this

Mark: These two? Never

Mark: They’ll be arguing to the day they die * laughing emoji*

Nano: And theyre going to be at the same event if both go to the wedding

Jense: This is going to be amazing

Mark: This is going to be horrible

Nano: Think they’ll ever get their shit together? Maybe we can lock them in a bedroom together at the wedding. Hope they figure it out.

Jense: You’re just looking for carnage

Nano: Of course

Kimi: Get them drunk

Nano: See? A man of wisdom like me!

Seb: This is amazing

Chat between Lulu and Britney Baby

Lulu: Look what Seb just sent me

Lulu: *attatched screenshot*

Britney Baby: Ha! Oh my god that’s amazing

Britney Baby: They’re going to be so shocked

Lulu: Seb’s having far too much fun there

Britney Baby: They’re going to turn on him so badly once they realise he knew

Britney Baby: Also does Kimi know?

Lulu: I don’t actually know

Lulu: Seb knows and he’s awful at keeping secrets

Lulu: But also Kimi ignores literally everything so…

Lulu: No idea??

Britney Baby: Should I ask him??

Lulu: I’ll ask the kid to do it, Kimi’s got a soft spot for the kid.

Britney Baby: Everyone’s got a soft spot for the kid

Lulu: Fair

Chat between The Old Man and The Child

The Old Man: Hey Max?

The Child: Hi Lewis! Just got the wedding invite, is everything alright?

The Old Man: Yeah everything fine kid

The Old Man: I was wondering if you’d check something for me?

The Child: Depends what it is :P 

The Old Man: The youth and those funny characters

The Old Man: Could you check on Kimi and see if he knows Nico and I are together?

The Child: Wouldn’t Mr Vettel have told him?

The Old Man: Yeah but Kimi rarely listens

The Child: And I’m the favourite?

The Old Man: Unfortunately

The Child: !!!

The Child: I’ll go check now. Gimme a moment

Chat between Iceman and New RBGB

New RBGB: Mr Kimi?

Iceman: Child.

New RBGB: Did Mr Vettel tell you about Lewis and Nico?

Iceman: They are together.

Iceman: It is their wedding?

New RBGB: Alright thanks Mr Kimi!

Iceman: Ok.

Chat between The Old Man and The Child

The Child: Yeah he knows

The Child: * Attatched Screenshot *

The Old Man: You call him Mr Kimi??

The Child: Shut up!

The Child: Also Charlie was asking me to ask you for help on the dress code

The Child: Not for him, but for me

The Child: Apparently my dress sense is ‘an embarrassment to clothing’

The Old Man: Ha!

The Old Man: Actually Nico was going to take you out clothes shopping with him in a week if you’re up for that?

The Child: Seriously? You’re not busy with wedding planning shit?

The Old Man: Nah everythings pretty much done

The Old Man: Brit’s going to be over in a few hours? If that’s good with you?

The Child: Yeah I’ve got nothing on

The Child: Tell him to head over wheneve he wants

The Old Man: *Thumbs Up*

And true to the message, a few hours later there was a knock on the door. Max jumped up from the chair, his instincts already telling him who was at the door… Flockmate! Friend! Friend here to help us! Flockmates getting married! We should get marrie- NO!

Wrenching open the front door, Max nodded Nico into the room, hoping the man wouldn’t bring up the blush on his face. Luck was not on his side. It shouldn’t have been a surprise, given how nosy Nico was, but Max had still hoped. At least the man gave him a few seconds before teasing.

“Hey Maxy, what’s that blush for?” he grinned, brushing a wing against Max’s in a friendly greeting.

Max grumbled for a little bit, turning his head away, “Nothing! Aren’t you here to get me to look decent? Let’s go clothes shopping.”

“Sure~ And you totally weren’t thinking about marriage~,” Nico grinned, heading back out the door.

Max will forever deny the squeak he let out at that. Nico will never let him forget it.

Once they were in the car (Nico’s - a Mercedes, much to the disapproval of Max - with someone else driving it), Nico turned to Max.

“Alrighty, so we’re going to get a fancy outfit for you. Just to know what we’re working with here, is there anything you’re not comfortable with? Any styles, pattens, colours?” he asked, tone carefully neutral.

Max took a minute to think, recognising Nico was looking for a serious response here, “I think,” he started, “that I would prefer slightly darker colours? And maybe a slightly… not gothic style but… not a traditional tux? I don’t really know…”

“Hey no worries with that. I think I have some ideas of what you might like, but we cas start with some more traditional suits with a red carpet twist… just get a feel of what you like?” Nico was quick to reassure Max.

It worked. The young man relaxed back into his seat, wings fluffing back out (perhaps he should have bound his wings before getting in the car? Ah well, Nico hadn’t either so why bother…).

And they were soon at the place. Nico hurried Max in, careful to pin back his wings so he could fit through the front door - Max carefully ignored all the stares as he passed, though he wasn’t sure if they recognised his channel or the wings. Or perhaps they recognised Nico? Either way, there was a lot of staring.

Thankfully the shop was private, so the stares were quickly hidden away behind a door. A man greeted the pair as soon as they entered, hurrying them back into a private booth at the back.

“Hello Mr Rosberg, so lovely to meet you!” The man simpered, pouring out two glassed of champagne that he quickly handed over, “Just hold there for a moment and I’ll bring in some options for you”

Then he was out the back door before Max even had a moment to precess what had happened. He looked to Nico, mildly horrified about what he was getting himself into.

“What just happened?” he asked, eyes wide.

Nico, the bastard, just laughed, “Ah he’s just like that. You get used to it eventually.”

Max wasn’t sure if he ever wanted to get used to it, but he was almost certain Nico already knew that. And before he could even think to voice that thought, the man was back in the room.

“Alright then,” he smiled, hands full of suit bags, “How about we start with this one?”

A bag was handed over, and Max opened it up to see a black suit, one sleeve and one leg adorned with gemstones, and a similarly sparkly belt. It was certainly a red carpet suit. 

Before he knew it, Max was being helped into the suit, careful to pull his wings through the slits in the back of the jacket, and Nico spun him to look in the mirror.

“What do you think of this one?” Nico asked, nodding at Max’s reflection.

Max took a long look at himself, before snapping a picture and posting it. But even before the comments came in, Max knew this wasn’t going to be the suit for him. [https://i.pinimg.com/736x/47/32/4a/47324a742af3f5a09f1166efd636e440.jpg]

It must’ve shown on his face, as Nico was quickly tugging the suit off him. 

“Perhaps not,” he muttered, partially to himself, “How about we try this one then?”

Another suit was placed on his figure. This one more asymmetrical, with a gorgeous shoulder decoration and faux leather waistcoat and belt. Snapping and posting a picture, Max liked this one slightly more.

“So? You like this one more right?” Nico asked, scanning him from top to bottom. 

Max spun slightly in the mirror.

“Eh.” he sighed, “I do like it but… is it not a bit much?”

Nico snorted, “at my wedding? No such thing as too much! You should see my suit.”

But Max still wasn’t convinced.

“Could we try a more simple suit?” he asked, tuggling lightly on the belt.

Nico nodded, and began to ruffle through the suit bags.

“Here!” he handed some clothing over to Max, “try this one on, it’s very simple!”

And the clothing was very simple. But it fit beautifully. A dark red suit shirt, with a beautifully fitting waistcoat and plain black trousers. It clung to him like a second skin, but was so comfortable to move in.

But was it too simple? He voiced such a comment to Nico, who stared at him for several long moments. Then another clothing back was offered to him.

“Here, thy this on.” Nico sounded very interested about his one, which was either going to be very good, or very bad. 

But then pulled on the clothing and looked in the mirror. Oh . He looked good . The clothing was very well fitting, a dark maroon shirt with enormous sleeves and collar, with gemstones discretely sewn into the lace on the sleeves so that they sparkled with every move he made. The waistcoat was beautifully fitting, highlighting his narrow waist with how it clung perfectly, held up with golden buckles. And the trousers were just as well tailored. And then the cloak. The cloak! It was like silk, but somehow as thick as a wool coat, with shiny gold hardware, and it fell very long, almost reaching his ankles.

It was very stunning. And very comfy. And very Red Carpet.

He turned to Nico,eyes wide, and Nico knew what he was thinking before he had to say anything.

“We going with this one then, yes?”

Max nodded slowly, still caught up in how the fabric moved when he turned slightly. He could imagine walking down the carpet, the cloak catching the light just right, the tiny gemstones in the lace on his sleeves winking like stars.

“Yes,” he finally said, almost breathless. “This one.”

Nico grinned like he had won a bet (which, knowing him, he probably had). “Knew it. You’ve got good taste, Maxy.”

Max rolled his eyes, but the pleased flush on his cheeks gave away his excitement. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever worn anything this nice before. “I feel like I’m playing dress-up.” he grumbled, tugging at the sleeves as his wings fluttered nervously.

“You’re playing dress-up as a royal, my friend.” Nico gestured at his reflection. “And a very handsome one at that.”

Max huffed, adjusting the golden buckle on his waistcoat. “I look ridiculous,” Max huffed, eyeing up the outfit he had previously turned away for being too simple.

“You look like you own the red carpet,” Nico reassured him, poining him back to the mirror. “And maybe half of Monaco.”

Max snorted, shaking his head, but when he turned back to the mirror, he couldn’t deny it. He did look good. Powerful, even. It was strange, looking at himself and seeing someone who actually fit into a world of glitz and glamour rather than just an intruder playing a role.

His phone buzzed on the counter where he had left it, and when he picked it up, his last post was already flooded with comments.

Chapter Text

Thank you to everyone who's read and commented on this! Unfortunately I'm not very happy with the way the story has progressed. I think I tried to introduce too many ideas into one story, instead of writing the separate stories like I should have.

This work will be being rewritten and the new work will focus around:

• Max and his dual identity which stays a much tighter secret
• A greater focus on Max and his brother who is introduced much earlier, and is closer in age to Max
• A greater focus on Jos essentially kicking Max out after he asks to stop carting
• Max's little sister! (I love Max's bond with Penelope but want to keep WAGs and IRL family out of any fanfiction I write)
• No wings / flock instincts
• No Christian / Toto immediately (still there, but Max doesn't know about them.)
• Less Charles (I know, the horror...)

Thanks for all he support around this, I'm going to keep this old work up, but will try and link the works together somehow!