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The first media day of the season was always hectic, and Isiah thrived in it. Stepping out of his father’s custom Ferrari, he smiled as he put on his sunglasses. He gave his best angles to the cameras that were undoubtedly focused on him. He smiled as he took in the paddock, his twin brother stepping out of the car behind him. “We have like- three interviews, man, why are you just standing here?” Isaiah turned towards Ezekiel, taking in his locs, glasses, and his +44 sweater. “Can’t I live in the moment?” 

Lewis, who was waiting on the two, ushered them along. “We all have media responsibilities. Come on.” They walked together through the paddock, only separating as Lewis ducked into the bright red Ferrari garage. “Thank god, trying not to swear around him is an actual fucking nightmare.” Zeke snorted, holding open the hospitality door, “Maybe expand your vocabulary then.” 

The Cadillac team already seemed busy, focusing on various things. Though one was sitting down, dressed in his navy blue and gold fireproofs, it was Sebastian Vettel. The twins manager. Or well, Isiah’s permanent manager, Zeke was still looking for his.

“Seb!,” Zay yelled out. The blonde man looked up, catching eyes with him. Isiah also had locs, though his were longer and pulled back into a ponytail. He was in a Tommy Hilfiger varsity jacket – his father’s collection, if Seb had to guess. His smile, though bright, was gapped unlike his elder twin’s. They were both brown skinned with almost-hidden freckles lining their faces. His eyes, though previously obscured thanks to his sunglasses, were now visible. The same eye shape and color as his father, though his right eye had a scar over it. His eyeglasses were clipped onto his shirt while his brothers were safely planted on his nose bridge.

The twins wasted no time and walked over, sitting down and grinning. “For Lewis to be driving a sports car, you two seem rather late.” Ezekiel sighed, “Traffic to get to the paddock was a nightmare, and we would've been on time had he,” the teen pointed at Isiah, “gotten dressed on time.” Zay, in response, rolled his eyes and chuckled. “We still made it here, didn't we? Now– where’s my team kit!”

The interview consisted of Isiah, Ezekiel, Max, and Oscar. The roster seemed rather convoluted, different from the usual three person interviews. Zeke chose not to comment on it, instead, he chose to sit down and drink from his water bottle. Simply texting someone on his phone as he waited. Zay was tapping his head with a pencil he'd taken from dad’s car, waiting for the other two Formula One drivers to pile in. His golden rimmed glasses seemed even brighter under the light. His brothers, who were silver, shone as well. Max, wearing his infamous Red Bull kit, gave a little smile as he sat down in his chair. “Hey,” Zeke looked up, and at the same time, the twins responded ‘Hey, man!”.

Oscar, who’d just filed in wearing orange, gave a small smile. 

Max, who seemed monetarily stunned, recovered with a laugh. “Is it uh– twin psychology?” 

“Yes.” They both returned, smiling as they were given the cue, and they started to roll.

Here for the first Formula One Media-Day interview are Isiah Hamilton and Ezekiel Hamilton, both drivers for the new Cadillac Formula One Team, respectively; Max Verstappen, Oracle Red Bull Racing Driver; and Oscar Piastri, 2025 World Champion, who drives for the McLaren Formula One Team.

 

Starting with you, Oscar, how are you feeling after last season? Running high off your win last year? 

 

“Well, yes, I’m very happy with my performance last year, and I can’t wait to see what the team has in store this time around, especially being back home with new regs hopefully suited for our Mercedes engine.”

 

“Are you confident in your team's ability to perform the same magic they did the year prior– even with the new regulations?”

 

“ Yes, I think every driver needs to trust their team despite the changes that come with the sport.”

 

“Great, thank you. Now moving on to Max Verstappen,”

 

Max visibly shifted, barely holding in a sigh. 

 

‘Following Christian Horner’s removal as team principal and your confirmed but ineffective talks with Mercedes, how are you feeling as we go into the season?"

 

“I feel ready to race and ultimately to do my job, New Regs, different year– and my goal remains the same, to win.”

 

“You’re now back to sporting number 33 instead of 1, how does it feel?”

 

Isaiah internally groaned at the question; it seemed to be poking at a sore spot for the elder driver. Especially because Oscar is now sporting the number 1, very visible atop his McLaren hat. 

 

“Eh, my car wasn’t up to par last year, and hopefully by the time the season starts, I can reclaim it.”

 

“Now, Isiah Hamilton, it’s a shock to see you driving for Cadillac instead of Red Bull. Care to explain how that happened?”

 

Isaiah felt eyes on him as he shifted and grabbed his mic. Shrugging the crawling feeling off, he spoke. “I was in the Red Bull Racing driver’s program from F4 onwards, yes, but the team and I really came to head in 2025. I was told to wait for a seat, which I would've openly been fine with if it hadn’t been for the behavior I was subjected to.” Isaiah continued, “The team, excluding the drivers, had a habit of saying I was too cocky and overconfident. Something about how I wouldn’t fit the team regardless of skillset, because I was too out there or public. Of course, it minimized after Horner was removed, but it wasn’t optimal.”

 

“Can you describe how that made you feel?”

 

“I was naturally upset, but that was only one reason for leaving for Cadillac. That happened early in the season, and my goal was honestly just to get into a decent seat. But after I repeatedly saw how they treated drivers, I had to cut my losses and say, ‘I can’t drive for a team like that.’ So I agreed to wait for my seat with Red Bull, coming in when everyone’s two-year contracts were fulfilled, and I would have a choice between lower teams. But Cadillac called my dad, we met up, and everything fell into place after that.”

 

“Ezekiel, would you say your reasons for switching to Cadillac are the same?

 

‘Ah, yes, I would. The team dynamic was not something I could’ve fully worked with, and I would've been added to the team in 2027 regardless, since if Zay was added this year, I would effectively be the number one driver in the Red Bull Formula 2 Team. I actually hadn’t expected to get a contract with Cadillac, since Isiah was number one in the standings and I was 2. I expected Checo to get a seat, but he’s a reserve driver instead.” 

 

“Question to both of you, considering what many would assume to be a clumsy and rushed debut in Formula One, are either of you worried about folding under pressure or underperforming? Since we’ve seen a decline in skill from f2 to f1 with several drivers to name, it seems rather rushed to have you on the grid, no?”

 

Max’s face hardened as he leaned forward, stopping the quip Isiah had prepared. “That’s a really invasive question, and that completely denounces the skill they both show. Lewis wouldn’t have made the call if they weren’t ready, and holding them to the same standard as past drivers without even seeing them perform is stupid.”

 

Isiah blinked, and so did Zeke. Oscar didn’t show the shock on his face, but Zay recuperated and smiled. “Thank you, Max, but honestly, it’s not the worst question I’ve been asked. I’m not worried about the pressure because I always have and always will have pressure on my back because of my last name and who my father is. I aim to learn, get points, and try to fight for the championship this year. But never hold me to the same standards as anyone else because there has never been and never will be another driver like me.

 

Zeke nodded along. “I’m here to do my job. If people are that worried about underperformance, they should find another person to focus on. I have and always have outperformed my peers, my only competition being myself or my brother.” Zeke motioned towards Zay, "Going into a new field doesn’t change who I am. My name is Ezekiel Hamilton, and I will be a world champion. No matter what other people think.”

The paddock fell into a resting phase, like a car settling down after a pressing lap. Not fully stopped, but waiting to accelerate again. Reaching his hand up, Isiah stretched his back. The royal blue Cadillac team kit rose above his waistline for a second before he dramatically dropped his arms, leaving the shirt to shape his waist once again.

Zeke had already headed back to the hotel, and Zay was sure he and his father were the only two left from Formula One inside the paddock besides the engineers. Sighing, Zay decided to walk across the paddock to his father's motor home, the Rosa Corsa trailer coming into his vision. Walking up to it, Isiah knocked on the door.

After a few silent moments, Isiah attempted to turn the doorknob. At the failed turn, Zay groaned. Pulling out his phone and sending out a text.

Isiah: 

Dad where are u

I’m ready to go

Max and Lewis were interlocked at the lips, fast and hot hands pulling and tugging on clothes. Pants filled the room as Max broke the kiss and dragged his lips down his throat, lightly nipping but not leaving marks.

“Fuck- Max okay,” Lewis closed his eyes, leaning against the wall of the Red Bull motorhome. If he were found here, he would be fined. No doubt about it.

But god, when Max got aggressive in the interview earlier, Lewis couldn’t hold himself back.

That’s when his phone buzzed, "Wait, Max, one second.” The Dutchman pulled back, scowling as Lewis opened his phone up, chest panting. Blinking at the message, Lewis looked up and furrowed his brows. “I’m sorry, baby, I have to take Zay back to the hotel,” he pushed himself off the wall. Lewis began walking towards the door when he felt his hand get pulled back, Max not letting him go just yet.

“Are you and the twins in the same hotel?” Lewis shook his head. Max brought their hands up and closed them, keeping Lewis close. “Can I see you tonight, even if it’s not sexual. I haven’t seen you in a while.” Smiling, Lewis leaned forward, pulling Max into a loving kiss, sweeter than what they had done previously. 

Breaking apart, Lewis smiled and waved as he walked out of the back of the Red Bull motorhome.

“Fuck,” Max muttered, lying down on the couch provided. 

He and Lewis were never as fighty as they put on, but no one could guess they were this close. He and Lewis ended up tangled together after Silverstone 2024; it became a flash of hotel rooms, Valentine’s Day, and birthday gifts. It’s been over a year now, and they’ve had the “what are we conversation so many times, but neither knows exactly what they are.

Max got sent a custom navy blue Ferrari with orange accents for his birthday, and Lewis got a whole new high-class apartment inside of New York for his. It was snowing when they walked into it together for the first time, and it was past New Year's. 

The twins were with their mom, resting at her house after an eventful Christmas. Max wasn’t with his family, outside of his sister and his mom, he’d cut the rest of them off. The public didn’t know, but Lewis does.

Sighing, Max runs his hands down his face, groaning into them. What the fuck was he doing?

Running his hands through his braids, Lewis pulled his hair back while walking up to Isiah. The teen in question was leaning against the wooden door and seemed defeated. Drama king, Lewis thought. His brain reminded him of the time the boy looked the same after Lewis forgot his bedtime story.

“Zay?” The boy looked up, glasses now cuffed onto his team kit. He lacked his heavy jacket, and his face seemed scrunched up. “Dad,” Isiah called out, his American accent traveling through the paddock, a reflection of his poor volume control. “Where were you! I’ve been waiting outside your motorhome for literal years.”

Lewis playfully rolled his eyes before walking past Isiah, catching the others' attention, and they followed him. “Had you actually been waiting for a year, I would’ve already retired. Now, let’s go, I’m ready to lie down.”