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It has to be one of the hottest race days yet and Max has just gotten back to the hotel after the second quali sprint only placing 8th. Not good enough in his eyes and definitely not good enough in his fathers eyes considering he was beaten by an Alpine car.
He collapses onto the hotel bed opening his phone and scrolling through his socials, reading comments, and looking at videos of the sprint.
Jos barges in, Max can tell he’s brimming with anger, but on the outside Jos face is calm and collected “Max, how about you go on a bike ride you could do with some exercise and it’s nice out.”
Max, still tired, doesn't really analyze the tone his father used, “No thanks, I got plenty of exercise today.”
His father isn’t impressed and doesn’t look calm anymore, “Yeah!?? And what’s exercise to you? Walking from your driver's room to the car?!” Jos walks closer to him grabbing his arm and pulling him upright, “You know what I did today? I scheduled your meetings, dealt with the press, did multiple laps of the paddock and now I have to deal with your whining ungrateful lazy ass.”
Max lets out a quiet sigh and internally rolls his eyes, What do you want a trophy for it? “Dad I just got back from quali, I’m tired; too tired to go on a bike ride right now, how about I just do it later.”
“There’s no better time to exercise than when you’re already tired,” Jos declares, already moving towards the door expecting Max to follow him, “You need to exercise your legs, get the fat off of them. Do you think RedBull will keep you for long when you have jelly legs weighing the car down?” He sneers, “Well Do You!?!” He shakes Max roughly.
“No,” Max answered timidly, looking at the ugly carpet under his shoes, As if you couldn’t afford to lose a couple pounds, all that drinking is catching up to you. A giggle escapes Max as he imagines Jos rolling away like a bowling ball.
“Wat valt er te lachen?" Jos drags Max towards the door and shoves him out. Max scrambles to catch his footing, “Don’t come back til you’ve lost five pounds!” Jos slams the door shut in his face.
“Great!” Max talks to himself, getting up and brushing dust from his clothes, his voice full of sarcasm, “ Just another Friday.” And walks off to find a vending machine.