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Max didn't want it to be there, he would probably prefer to be doing marketing instead of being where he was.
He finished second in the penultimate race of the calendar, with Charles winning and George on the 3rd position to complete the podium and they were sitting in the famous couch while media were doing their questions, Charles was speaking now but he doesn’t know what was the question neither what he was answering since he wasn't listening.
He decided to trap himself in his mind rather than listen to the same questions over and over again, it was always the same. Neither does he want it to be noticed. It probably has been five minutes already since someone asked him a question and he was glad.
Max was looking at his white boots, touching it with his hand, as if it was something interesting to look or feel, thinking that probably orange was a better colour.
He went back to reality when he heard that someone asked George about what he regretted about this season and Max could only draw a thin and imperceptible smile with his lips. If the question would have been made to him, he probably would’ve answered with a shitty and perfect pr answer.
But oh, how would he love to tell the truth.
About how that season has been worse than last year, about how awful the car was and how he was in fight with George for the fucking third position in the drivers standing, when the last four years he has been the reigning champion, now adjusting to the idea of not using the number one in his car for next year.
And on top of that, having to bear with his teammate, he was a complete asshole most of the time, not only on the track, but also outside of it. He was tired of dealing with him, pretending to get along once the cameras were on, walking with him on the paddock, faking smiles and talks that were just about merely about work.
He always had it to suppress a laugh every time the marketing team want it to picture them like the perfect teammates, creating stupid challenges or games for them to find something in common, but the true could be seen in the results, they didn’t have nothing in common and it was obvious from miles away they didn't get along, the girls and boys from the team always felt the tension and it was a nightmare.
Most of the time Max would be the one to try to make things easier, since he knew these people and didn't want it to make the time unbearable for them, but Liam didn't help and he couldn't control him nor the tension that would grow once they were together in the same room.
It probably wasn't helping either how the team started to pay more attention to the other garage around Monza and he was left forgotten once the time started to pass by.
He remembered that day when he realised one of the pieces from his car was an old one and Liam had the new one, in that moment Helmut was with him laughing and Max couldn't control the sonorous bitter laughter he left out, dragging the attention to him.
Yeah, that was probably his karma, and maybe he deserves it.
But he was Max Verstappen, so he made the life of that man impossible in the place he knew it, like the palm of his hand: the track. If they want it to neglect him, fine, he would show them why he was the best.
And indeed he did, most of the times, even when strategies weren’t in his favour, he did magic, ending in front of him on quali and having the best places at the end of a race. But of course, sometimes it didn't work and that prick ended in front of him.
One day, they were fighting for sixth place. Liam was trying to pass him but Max wouldn't let him, laughing behind his helmet once he noticed the man was losing his mind. Things didn't end up well once he felt the car crashing with his and both ending against the wall.
He was furious and once he was out of the car, he went directly to him, screaming about how stupid his movements were, touching his chest with his fingers while talking to him. Everybody saw the heated exchange and rumors started to arise within the paddock and fans.
Their punishment was to arrive together at the paddock in the next race and pretend to get along for the whole weekend. It was a nightmare but at least he didn't have to listen to Christian once the race weekend was over and he left the country in his jet the moment he was out of the car.
Yes, it was a hell of a season and he was grateful there was just one race left.
Abu Dhabi.
He heard the mention of the place because of Charles, he was now speaking about his hopes in that race for him and the team, but the sudden reminder of something that happened almost a year ago made him feel dizzy.
The memory of something he lost, someone.
He could remember his face, his watery eyes and how he was entertained watching at a fixed point in the room, clearly lost in his thoughts. Max was looking at him, trying to find a way, an excuse to get closer and talk.
Once he found the courage and was walking towards him, the marketing team dragged him to a balcony to give his final thoughts on the race. He could see it was hard for him, but he tried the best he could to hide it and gave little smiles to the camera so he wouldn't break into tears remembering how things ended.
Max felt awful for him, he truly did. He has watched since China how his teammate was struggling with the car and how every time it started to go well for him, something happened during quali or at the Sunday race. It was as if luck didn't want it to be by his side.
He more than anyone knew how shitty the car was, so he understood why it was so hard for Checo to control it and the reason why he was always defending him against the press, even when some of them were expecting him to say something different.
He didn't give them what they wanted.
Max saw how Checo smiled at the team once the video was over and he didn't miss the long hug Alice gave to him before letting him go with sad smiles on their faces. He frowned at this, wanting to know what was all that about. But when he wanted to follow him, Gemma called him.
He said goodbye to the team once they finished, making some jokes with the boys, laughing, and he started to walk towards the drivers room, specifically Checo’s room. Max was thankful to not find no one on his way to draw his attention from the place he was going.
Once he was in front of his door he froze, not knowing what to do, a sudden current went through his spine and a fear was installed on his chest, making it more heavy than usual. It was like something was trying to let him know bad news were coming and he didn't like it.
The door from Checo’s driver room opened and he saw Jo and Luis coming out, both surprised to see him there.
—Max? What are you doing here? —it was Jo who asked, trying to put a smile on his face but failing.
—Oh, am, I just wanted to talk with Checo, you know, say goodbye to him before leaving —he felt the four eyes in front of him judging.
—Well, I don't think this a good time… —before Luis could finish his sentence, a voice came from inside the room.
—You can come Max —said the voice of Checo, the two men in front of him looked uncertain but gave him a smile before leaving. Jo put his hand on his shoulder giving him a friendly pat to then follow Luis through the aisle.
He saw where the two men had left, looking worried and scared about what was going to happen once he entered the room. But he shook the thoughts away and finally walked in.
The room was empty, he noticed, the pictures that were always hanging on the walls of the Mexican weren't there anymore and his clothes were already packed.
He saw the man, there weren't signs of red bull logos on his clothes unlike him, who was still in his red bull attire, but he found two red bull cans on his hands, one of them was already open and Checo was smiling at him making the gesture for him to grab it.
When Max understood, he took the can with his right hand —Thank you — he said.
He waited for Checo to open his and then, without saying anything, they toasted and gave it a sip. Max felt something was wrong, the whole interaction was feeling like a permanent goodbye rather than a see you later. Before he could speak, the man from Guadalajara confirmed his fear.
—This is going to be the last Red Bull I’m sharing with you Max —and suddenly, the world stopped.
He couldn't hear anything, his heart started to beat faster, he felt an awful feeling of emptiness on his stomach, his eyes got full of tears and it was like breathing was the hardest thing to do, not finding enough air in his lungs.
He wanted to scream, he wanted to cry, wanted to be hugged by the man in front of him without letting him go, because doing that was accepting not having Checo by his side and he simply didn't want it to accept a racing life without the man that not only saw him won his four championships, but also brought a peace to his heart and mind that he probably will never voice out loud to anyone, nor him.
But when Max saw the man through his watery eyes, he noticed his red nose and cheeks, as well as his pain, even when he was trying to hide it behind the smile he was giving him, those were things Max could see without trying much.
The Dutch man cleared his throat.
—What do you mean Checo? This is one of your pranks, right? Because if it is, it was a good one —it was heartbreaking for him to find the honesty in his eyes, telling him what he was thinking was right.
—I’m going to the celebrations at Milton Keynes —he ignored his words, that hurt him, Max left the Red Bull can in a table that was on his left— but once they finish, I’m leaving England, Carola has been in charged of moving the few things we have in the house to Mexico and… —Max looks at him, worried.
—Since when did you know about this? —the silence that follows was deafening— Checo?
He noticed how the man was fighting the tears, as well as the pain in his throat. He gave a long sip to his drink.
—I knew about it during the week of the Mexican Grand Prix —he finally said, not wanting to miss his reaction.
Max could feel his blood run more warm than normal, feeling it in his ears and cheeks.
He was mad.
—They told you during your home race?! —Checo saw how angry the man got at this, his voice accelerated and harsh.
But Checo kept his calm, thinking that could keep the young man in front of him relaxed, wanting to answer his questions.
—No —at this, Max looks at him curiously— I, I heard a conversation between Christian and Oliver, I shouldn't have eavesdrops, that didn't end up well for me in the past, but… —he shook his head, like if doing that help him push the tears and feelings away— I was in the factory with the team and for a reason I can't remember, I was searching for Christian when I heard his voice coming from a room, I stopped when I listened he was with Oliver and… they were talking about me and what they were going to do to take me out of the team to put Liam instead —Checo didn't continue, he thought that was more than enough and Max just sighed.
—But you signed a two years plus one contract —Max said confused.
—Yes, and you are right, but, when has something stopped Red Bull Racing from getting rid of a driver before? —at this, Max didn't have an answer.
—I will talk to them, they promise me you were going to be by my side, I—
—It’s done Max —finally, he saw a tear roll down Checo’s cheek and his heart sank— there's nothing you or my team can do to change their minds, believe me, they tried —he gave him a reassurance smile and Max send all to hell, finally wrapping his arms around the man and hiding his face in his shoulder.
He felt the arms of the Mexican wrapped around him as well and heard his little cries.
—I tried Checo, I want you to know that, I really did —he didn't try to hide the voice break.
—I know —he answered, and that was enough for him.
His last goodbye was at Milton Keynes, it wasn't as emotional as in Abu Dhabi, but, it was a warm and sad goodbye.
Max wanted to do a helmet swap, so he and Checo could have a memory about their last season together. But the man refused, since he was sure that wasn't going to be the last of him in the category.
—I will look for you at the right moment, I promise —that was his answer.
The Dutch shook those thoughts when he heard a reporter was trying to get his attention, wanting to ask a question.
—David Croft, Sky Sports —Max wanted to roll his eyes— Max, so I want to ask you about your teammate and how he played a key role in your race today —key role? he was only told to stop fighting him and let him overtake— and also about the rumours that are going strong about your last teammate and his opportunity of getting back to F1 with Cadillac —at this, not only Max rise his eyebrows, but also the other two drivers sitting in the couch with him— you think is a good decision or are they taking at risk like Red Bull did in the past?.
He took the mic, trying to control his breathing, pretending he was thinking about his answer as if he wasn't insulting the man in his head. He opens his mouth, ready to give the very well trained pr answer Gemma gave to him.
He saw the woman, standing next to Alice, the redhead was concentrating on her phone while the blonde was pleading with her eyes at the man, knowing by his look what he wanted to do.
Max looked down and said sorry in his mind.
—Well, I actually think Cadillac will be taking the right decision by choosing Checo as one of their drivers, and if they already did, congratulations to them, that was a smart choice —the room went silence and all the eyes where now on him— sadly, my team made the wrong decision by letting him go, he gave excellent feedback to the engineers, get along with the whole team and we found a balance between our work and relationship outside of the track —he took a moment to breath— and maybe if they have listened to him when he told them there was a problem with the car, maybe today we wouldn't have been fighting to at least be third in the drivers championship and constructors, you know? —Max looked at the man and smiled, although it wasn't a happy one— as for my current teammate, I think this is where my team risked all and lost.
And he put the mic down after it.
He saw Charles and George hiding a smile. He found that guy from the Mexican media, Diego Mejias, smiling at him, and even though Gemma and Alice looked worried, they couldn't hide either that they were pleased with what he said.
Max smiles, this time genuinely, feeling that heavyweight leaving his shoulders and thinking about opening up that email it was sent to him two days ago from Andretti and discussing it with his father and manager.
Maybe he will have a proper exchange of helmets with Checo.
Max smiled at the thought of it.