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Summary
The rash is there during the first race weekend.
It’s there when they run into each other while getting to the paddock, so visible under the collar of Max’s Red Bull polo, despite his attempt at pulling the fabric as high as it can go.
It’s there during qualifying, when Max finishes first and waves at the crowd, grinning bright. It can be seen peeking out on the only visible strip of skin under his helmet.
It’s there when they cross paths later between garages, just before the race, and Max doesn’t even look his way, doesn’t spare a glance. He’s too busy scratching at his throat absently, obviously focused on the upcoming race. His nails are digging ridges in the dry skin. It won't be long before he draws blood.
Or: Max Verstappen has never really shown his skin any care, until George Russell takes it upon himself to fix it for him.