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Kevin Magnussen was drifting through the paddock, grinning like he’d been let in on the world’s best-kept secret. The sky seemed a little bluer, the ground softer beneath his feet, and every driver he saw? Fascinating, absolutely fascinating. Kevin’s eyes, glazed and unfocused, had the unmistakable dazed look of someone far, far from reality.
Lando Norris was the first to notice. “Uh…Kevin?” he asked, waving a hand in front of Kevin’s face.
Kevin blinked, then broke into a wide smile. “Lando! Dude. Your hair…is like, a hedge. A fancy, British hedge!”
Lando exchanged a worried glance with Carlos Sainz, who had just walked up, confusion all over his face. “Kevin…are you okay?”
Kevin nodded a bit too enthusiastically, which only made Carlos narrow his eyes. “You sure, mate? You don’t…look okay.”
“I’m…excellent,” Kevin replied, his words slow, his smile unwavering. Then, in a whisper loud enough for half the paddock to hear, he added, “You know, I think…I think I can taste colors.”
“Right,” Carlos muttered, glancing over to Lando with a clear, we need backup look.
Pierre Gasly was next to arrive, overhearing enough of the conversation to see something was off. “What’s going on with Kevin?” he whispered to Lando.
“We think he’s…” Lando paused, trying to find the words. “Well, high as a kite.”
Pierre’s eyes widened. “High? Are you serious?”
Kevin suddenly burst into a fit of giggles. “Pierre! You’re here! Man, you’re like…a fox. Like a sneaky fox. All French and…sneaky.”
The three drivers shared increasingly concerned looks. Pierre put a cautious hand on Kevin’s shoulder. “Kev, buddy, maybe you should sit down?”
But Kevin was already wandering off, his attention caught by Charles Leclerc, who was passing by with an energy drink in hand. “Charles!” Kevin exclaimed, pointing with wide-eyed wonder. “How did you get that…magic potion?”
Charles raised an eyebrow. “It’s…just an energy drink, Kevin.”
Kevin shook his head, looking deeply disappointed. “No, no, you don’t understand. That’s…that’s liquid speed, man.” His face grew serious. “Can I…can I smell it?”
Charles backed up a step, eyes darting nervously to Lando. “I don’t know what’s going on, but…should we be worried?”
Daniel Ricciardo wandered over, noticing the little group huddling around Kevin with a mix of concern and curiosity. “What’s up, boys? Why are we all staring at Kev like he’s a zoo exhibit?”
Kevin, seeming suddenly fascinated by Daniel’s accent, leaned in close. “Say ‘kangaroo.’ Please. I just…need to hear it.”
Daniel, looking bewildered, indulged him. “Uh…kangaroo?”
Kevin’s face lit up. “I knew it,” he whispered. “You sound…just like them.”
Daniel couldn’t hide a smirk, but a tinge of worry crept into his voice. “Guys, what exactly is going on here?”
Max Verstappen walked by, glancing at the scene with his usual stoicism. “Is…something wrong with Kevin?”
“Yes!” Lando hissed, exasperated. “He’s completely out of it. Look at him!”
Kevin turned, spotting Max and greeting him with an awed expression. “Max. Maximus. The Dutch Destroyer. Do you…do you think fish know that they’re swimming?”
Max raised both eyebrows. “Alright. That’s…concerning.”
As the sun set, the group finally corralled Kevin into a chair, circling around him protectively as he murmured about underwater cities and something he referred to as “the rainbow within us all.” Every driver exchanged a worried glance. This was beyond a normal Kevin-ism; this was a Kevin they’d never seen before.
“Should we…call someone?” Pierre whispered.
But at that moment, Kevin’s eyes opened with a sudden clarity. He looked around at his friends, his wide grin softening. “You guys are awesome,” he mumbled before he slumped back, fast asleep.
In the hush that followed, the drivers collectively sighed in relief. Lando spoke first. “I think…we’re just going to let him sleep this one off.”