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There was a ghost in the paddock. Not a real one and not one the others were aware of. But Max was. The ghost had haunted him since his youth when they would battle it out on the track as the progressed through the ranks.
And for a moment, Max has lost the ghost when he made his move to F1. But then the ghost followed and became the ghost in red.
There he was. Max’s ghost. The one and only Charles Leclerc.
The Ferrari prodigy, just as Max is Red Bull’s prodigy.
He haunted the paddock, haunted Max.
“Mate! I’m talking to you,” Lando said, snapping his fingers in Max’s face. “You were staring daggers at Charles. Trying to scare him before the race, eh?”
“Yeah, mate. Of course.” Max shrugged, adopting the air of indifference that was so common from him.
“Yeah well he’s coming this way. Guess you weren’t scary enough.” Lando nudged Max with a chuckle.
Charles appeared in front of Max, in just a blink. Or maybe Max closed his eyes for too long in an attempt to process having to have a conversation with a ghost.
“Hey, mate,” Lando said, patting Charles on the back. “Max here is trying to scare you.”
Damn it Lando, couldn’t keep his mouth shut.
“Yeah?” Charles looked amused and Max’s anger softened in an instant. “I don’t know how any one could be scared by Sid the Sloth.”
Max rolled his eyes, the fan edits of him haunting him. He found them amusing but so did the rest of the grid who liked to remind him of his cartoon twin.
“Well, I can still beat you in the race,” Max replied, and if you asked him it was almost flirtatious. Most people would not have understood that but Charles was not like most people.
“We will see about that.” Charles winked before sauntering off, the bright red of his Ferrari suit capturing Max’s gaze.
“Damn.” Lando whistled. “You are screwed.”
Max felt the engine come alive as he peeled off towards the start line. His adrenaline was racing through his blood, and his focus was entirely on the roaring machine in his control.
He could barely hear as the lights shuttered off, the red disappearing as the cars surged to life, fighting for precious spots just moments into the race.
Max took first, his grip on the wheel tight as he navigated the curve of the track. He was triumphant as he managed his lead for the next few laps.
But then that’s when a flash of red stole his attention and the Ferrari car tore ahead of him.
Charles.
Max cursed as the voice of his engineer crackled in his ear, supplying useless advice on how to take his spot back.
No one knew how to battle his ghost like he did. Not after years of racing together.
He came around the next corner almost too fast. His tires were momentarily off before Max managed to wrangle control back. His unsafe turn was just enough to put him right next to Charles.
He could almost see the grin that would make Charles’s lips turn up as they raced for first, the next couple of turns flying by. But no matter how hard they fought, neither one could lose the other.
It was a dance between the two cars. They chased each other through the curves, no one able to take the lead.
Finally it was the last lap and Max knew he needed to make a move.
He ignored the increasing frustration of his engineer as he narrowly avoided colliding with Charles on the curve. He knew Charles wouldn’t expect that and it would give him the advantage.
But yet, Charles seemed to understand exactly what Max was going to do. Max was so stunned that Charles was able to steal the lead right as they crossed the finish line.
The crowd burst into a explosion of clapping and cheering.
Lando was right behind Max, the bright orange of his McLaren reflecting the sunlight. But not even that could distract Max from the brilliant smile on Charles's face as he stepped out of the car, his helmet dangling from his fingertips. His lips were split in the biggest smile ever.
And it made all the annoyance from placing 2nd wash away.
Charles approached Max and Max stretched out his hand, expecting a handshake of some sorts. Instead, Max was pulled into a warm hug, Charles's arms wrapping around his back.
"Good race, mate," Charles said, pulling away and focussing on Lando just behind Max. Max waited, expecting Charles to hug Lando too. But he didn't.
Max, in a whirlwind of confusion, waved to the fans as he exited the track. He followed Charles and Lando, who were chatting away, to where they would watch the highlight reel before they took their podium.
Charles ended up in the middle where the 1st place sat. He continued to chat with Lando, acting as if Max wasn’t even there. It was a strange turn of events and Max felt as if he was a ghost, just watching.
Eventually they turned to him and Lando said “Good race, yeah?”
Max nodded dumbly, his words failing in his mouth as he locked eyes with Charles, who was smiling so bright.
Then came the podium. Lando stepped out first, the crowd erupting in cheers as he took his spot on the lowest step.
Max was 2nd, waving to the ground, his smile hurting his cheeks as he stepped up to the 2nd place spot.
Then Charles came out and he was locked eyes with Max the whole time. His smile was blinding and he seemed truly overjoyed.
Max couldn’t help but smiling, never being able to resist the allure of his ghost.
Charles took his spot on the 1st place and his gaze was finally stolen away by the crowd who was chanting his name.
The sun made his red suit seem blazing, almost as if Charles himself was on fire as he soaked in the cheers of the crowd.
Max had been nicknamed the Dutch Lion but he was convinced Charles should be given a nickname, something fiery just like him.
But no matter what he would forever be Max’s Red Ghost.
Especially when, later that night, Max was the only one in the Red Bull section of the paddock, his team having left long ago. The race was over, now it was time to rest and prepare for the race the next weekend.
Not for Max, though. Not when his brain was buzzing with thoughts of Charles, the one always haunting his mind.
Then, as if he summed him, Max heard Charles’s voice. “Max?”
“Charles.” Max said it almost in defeat. Of course, of any one else who could’ve returned to the paddock this late, it was Charles.
“Good race,” Charles said.
“Yeah, thanks. You too.” Max nodded his head.
Charles stood there, his eyes locked on Max.
“Yeah is there something you needed or…?” Max let his question die out as Charles stepped closer, almost so close that their noses were touching.
“I have to tell you,” Charles began, his voice odd. “I don’t expect you to return the feelings or anything but I just needed to tell you and-“
“Whoa, mate, slow down there. I don’t understand.”
That’s when Charles kissed Max. That was something Max could understand and he immediately kissed Charles back, his arms looping around the other man’s neck.
“I like you,” Charles said, pulling away.
“I couldn’t tell,” Max responded dryly before pulling Charles back in for another kiss.
It was the next weekend and the paddock was full of noise and excitement at the upcoming race.
There was a flash of red as Max’s ghost appeared, the Ferrari driver standing with Lewis across the way.
His eyes locked with Max’s and Charles grinned.
Max smiled back easily. He wasn’t quite sure what they were off the track but he knew that on the track they were forever competitors.