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Summary
Max stopped speaking halfway through an answer to Lewis because he realised he had clenched his jaw so hard it hurt. He knew exactly what that helplessness felt like. A mechanical failure robbed a driver differently than a crash or a mistake. There was nowhere to put the anger, no correction to make, no braking point to revisit. George, like all the rest of them, would only be left with the knowledge that his hands had done everything right and it still hadn’t mattered.
Max fixed a smile on his face anyway before he climbed up the third step. Champagne sprayed across his race suit while the hollow in his chest burned like a fireplace sucking all the oxygen out of a room.
George should’ve won today. Max knew it. The entire paddock knew it. And Max knew the twisting in his gut was nothing compared to the void George must have felt in his. He hadn’t seen George once since the chequered flag.
OR: Max comforts George after DNF in Canada 2026.