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Winter break was starting to get definitely too long. George was thinking about sitting in a car and driving almost every day now. The feeling of switching modes, seeing walls of the circuit coming towards him so fast that the only thing keeping him alive was his reflexes. A controlled near-death experience, how he liked to call it. But something started to be missing from he’s life, and he didn’t like to put too much thinking into it. He just knew that the second he was back on track, everything would be different, good and wrong at the same time, but at least the way he was used to.
At the beginning, he thought it would be nice to have rest (that’s what he always thought). A whole seven weeks without being on track. After this season, he definitely needed a break. From his feelings as well as from competition. This atmosphere was making him a deranged man. Especially after the great results and consistency in 2025, the hopes for his success were very high. The car was supposed to be the best on track, and even though he wasn’t as sure as people from the factory and fans, he had a pretty good feeling about it.
Also, the start of the new season meant seeing everyone again. Of course, he was in contact with some of them. For instance, today he was going to an incredibly fancy restaurant with Alex and Carlos. It was just enjoyable to watch these two getting close to each other. After years of Alex not being able to find his place and a person he could actually trust, Sainz ending up in Williams was a literal gift from God. George also felt a little bit guilty because of the thing that happened between them in the past. Sometimes the huge question of “what if?” appeared in his mind, but all he could do was brush it off. Thankfully, now the question rarely occurred, and he could only thank Carlos for that.
The breeze from the sea started to get icy and bite his skin under flimsy shirt. He entered he’s apartment and shut the balcony door. There were still a few things to run before dinner. The phone left on the table was buzzing all morning, and he still did not pick it up. It was probably Marcus or Toto with some car stuff, but even considering his excitement towards the new season, he didn’t feel ready to talk about specifics. Conflict in his head rose from almost two years now.
“But it is not important,” he whispered to himself. “What is important is to win.”
If bottling up his feelings was a competition, he probably would’ve won and won with a great advantage. The phone buzzed once again, stopping the avalanche of thoughts. With a sigh, he picked it up and held it to his ear while walking to the closet. He as well could do two stuff at once and held a conversation while deciding what to wear today.
“Why aren’t you picking up? For the love of God, I’m going to kill you someday, and if not me, it’s going to be Toto,” to say Marcus was frustrated was to say nothing. “Actually, you should be awfully happy that it is me who’s calling you, not him.”
“Relax, Marcus,” George said, while digging through a stack of shirts. He really needed to make some space for these things to not do such a mess every time he was looking for something. “What is it about?”
The silence at the other end was probably a sign of a man trying to calm down and not murder him the next time they see each other.
“You should really pay more attention to the media. And for my sanity, to the stuff I’m sending you. It’s Red Bull’s problems.”
George put the stack of shirts down, feeling a chill going down his spine.
“What problems?” he asked, trying to sound unbothered.
“Well, actually, our problems. Remember when we thought their car was no longer gonna be a threat?”
“Yeah.”
“False hope. Their car is fucking great.” Marcus usually didn’t curse. If he did, it meant the situation was horrible.
“How do we know that?” George was trying to catch the last scratches of hope.
“Well, I can’t really tell you that. Regulations, yada yada. But the main point is I need you tomorrow at 8 am sharp in the simulator, here.”
“What?!” he almost exclaimed. “And how the hell am I supposed to do that? Last time I checked, I was in Monaco, and if you haven’t magically teleported, you are still in London.”
“In Brackley, to be precise,” the man corrected. “Listen, I know it was all supposed to be fun and everything, but this is your job, and last time I checked you had a private jet, so don’t act like a princess and get your ass here,” and he hung up.
George threw a phone on the couch with a frustrated mumble. This was exactly the last thing he needed right now. The only bright side was that he always kept part of his clothes and stuff packed for situations like this, so it gave him a little extra time. And now it was time for usual acting. Calling off the dinner, commissioning a flight, spending the night somewhere in England, and working he’s ass off for the God only knows which time.
“And the last day of freedom is gone,” he murmured to himself.
The driver grabbed a phone to call Alex and almost pressed the green icon, but suddenly something stopped him. The flight will take only about two hours why would he just give up on his plans right now? Of course, a responsible person would get enough sleep before getting into the simulator, but since when was he so well behaved? After all, coffee exists. For sure, Toto will hold him accountable for that, but it won’t be the first time nor the last. He quickly sent a message to his pilot to be ready for 5 am. Then grabbed some random stuff from the “going out” pile of attire and went to the bathroom.
---
George still had plenty of time to dinner, so he decided to walk. The weather in Monte Carlo wasn’t the best lately, so even with a black trench coat, he felt freezing breaths of wind. The sun had already set, but the amount of lights from the buildings made sure no one could actually feel darkness surrounding the city. In this particular moment, George would prefer to be somewhere more gloomy, it would fit his feelings more. He liked to be a little too dramatic sometimes, but it helped him cope with whatever was currently on his mind, so he excused it. He walked beside the seashore, admiring the waves gently coming one after the other. It was so peaceful it almost hurt. The whole route took him over twenty minutes, and he was almost late. The man approached the restaurant and stopped. He needed one more minute if he was to look happy inside.
“You need to get yourself together,” a quiet whisper left his lips.
George held onto this thought while lighting up a cigarette. He was supposed to quit a long time ago, but now and then, when something went wrong, the old habit was reappearing, taking him down a spiral of guilt and relief. Frequently, the relief took a bigger role, so he still gave in to the craving.
He was finishing and ready to go inside when a brand new Audi came up to the parking lot with its tires squeaking. George backed up vaguely behind the building and peeked at the machine. Obviously, people in Monaco were rich, so the sight of a person with a brand new car was nothing unusual, what drew his attention more was the reckless style of driving. Two men got out of the car and headed to the restaurant. The second George recognised them the instinct made him tuck behind a wall even more.
Charles Leclerc and the guy with the unexpectedly good bolid went inside and disappeared from his view. Of course it had to happen. Of course, the last chance he had to spend time with his friends had to be ruined by the greatest driver himself, Max Verstappen. He stood there for another couple of minutes deciding what to do, parts of him wanted to run away, call the pilot, get some sleep, and just forget about all of this. Alex would feel omitted, but after all, he got used to George’s weird acting. Once again that day, he pulled up a phone and looked at it, trying to convince himself that whatever he was doing was a good idea.
Alex picked up after the second call.
“What’s up? Please don’t tell me you’ll be late, I’m so hungry.”
“Actually…” George started to stammer a little bit.
“Okay, listen, I don’t care when you’ll be here. Just be here. I have something to tell you. And hurry up for the love of God.” And just like that, he hung up.
George stood there for another second, looking at his phone. It looked like there wasn’t much up to him in this situation. He tucked his phone back into his pocket and backwardly headed to the place of a meeting. Misgivings went through his mind as he was walking up the stairs to enter the building. It was fine. Just fine. As always. This time he simply had to start acting a little bit earlier than he expected.
The waiter met him at the door, asking for his name and walking to the table. The interior design wasn’t anything special for this kind of place. Dark wood everywhere, chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, effusing a soft, warm glow. At the front of the restaurant, there was a part dedicated to usual people (if there were any who could afford the food here) who wanted to eat somewhere fancy, but in the back there was a more spacious section for celebrity-type guests. And F1 drivers. The windows fronted onto the marina, and slowly waving water and sails billowed in the cold wind.
“Romantic atmosphere,” George murmured with sarcasm. “Perfect for these two.”
“What?” the waiter said, seeming stressed. Maybe it was his first day.
“Nothing, mate.” The driver smiled and patted him on the shoulder. “Just take me where you have to.”
Seconds after he said that, Alex appeared before his eyes. He looked extremely excited, like a little puppy who sees its owner after a few hours of separation. Carlos was sitting at the table by the window, relaxed with an easy smile on his face. When he saw George, he nodded in greeting. Alex took his friend by his sleeve and dragged him to the table. During this, George had a moment to look around and realise that, thankfully, two men from Audi weren’t anywhere in sight.
Alex sat him down at the table and took Sainz’s hand while smiling all the time. Carlos put his arm around his boyfriend, way less excited but with a little smirk on his face.
“We wanted to tell you that in person, so I’m really content that you could make it here and didn’t magically disappear,” started Albon, beaming. “We… are getting married”
“Oh… Oh my God!” to say George was surprised was to say nothing. “Congratulations. I can not lie, I wasn’t expecting this. Oh my God. But I’m so happy for you!”
“Thank you, George.” Carlos’s voice was stable and calm. “We figured out it was about time.”
“Absolutely! Congratulations once again.”
Still astonished but happy for his friends, George looked at the two men sitting in front of him. Yeah, they were perfect for each other, he couldn’t deny that. A small needle stabbed him somewhere deep down. He wasn’t jealous of Alex, what happened between them happened in such a distant past that he simply couldn’t want him anymore. What he envied was the feeling they had for each other, the certainty that the other person is next to you and always will be. It didn’t matter how many times he told himself that he didn’t need anyone. This way or the other, he was ending up looking at two happy people, wanting what they have with nothing but a mess in his head.
The next two hours almost flashed before his eyes. They ordered the food, talked and laughed. Alex couldn’t stop being on about how the proposal looked, how he was so surprised and nervous he almost declined at first. He did most of the talking, Carlos was sitting with his hand on Albon’s thigh, admiring him and adding something to the story only once in a while. The longer they dined, the more unwound the atmosphere became. One drink became two, and then three.
Sainz was just in the middle of explaining something about Madrid to Alex, who couldn’t stop giggling and was barely catching his breath at this point, when the same waiter who showed in George walked in with two men behind him. The driver stiffened instantly. So the two Audi passengers finally decided to appear at the table. And of course the table was like five meters away from them. Perfect.
At first instinct, George wanted to stand up and leave. Then he remembered that he wasn’t alone and acting like this would give him nothing. He peered at his empty plate as much as he could. He will not look at them. He will just act like it’s nothing. He will not look. He will not… His eyes betrayed him maybe three seconds after this decision.
Mistake. A big one.
As soon as he looked up, he locked eyes with Max. Of course. It was just his luck today. The pair of blue eyes gazed through his soul. The eye contact was brief but too long at the same time.
“Oh fuck me,” the thought flew through his mind. “Why this man again?”
He glanced at Charles, who was also looking in his direction. They both nodded shortly, acknowledging each other. “Hi, I see you, and I see you’re with someone else, so I won’t interfere,” a type of nod. George wanted to sink into his chair at this point. Why did he come here? Oh, right, Alex. He looked back at two men in front of him and… they were kissing. Bad timing. Man grabbed empty glasses and stood up.
“I’m going to the bar. You want something?” he asked.
“Why?” Alex detached from Carlos for a second. “Just call a waiter.”
“No, I’m fine. I just need a little walk.”
“Okay, whatever.” his eyes were back on his fiancé. “Bring me something, you know what I like.”
“Sure.”
“Just another beer for me,” replied Sainz.
“Sure once again.”
With three empty glasses, George headed to the bar. On his way, he waved to the waiter that’s okay. The poor man looked like he was about to die seeing one of the important clients walking to the counter alone. He prayed for some alone time while waiting for the drinks. The need to gather up his feelings and hopefully be able to throw them out of his head. At least that was his plan.
The bar counter was almost empty. A few meters away from him stood a businessman arguing on the phone and drinking scotch. George caught a few words that let him assume the man was talking to his wife or partner. Amazing, another thing reminding him of his bad luck with feelings. He quickly snapped out of these thoughts and turned to the bartender who was already waiting for his order. A beer for Carlos, a piña colada for Alex, and anything with rum for him. He needed something strong, and rum was the only type of alcohol that didn’t make him feel sick the next day.
To get away from his thoughts in which one particular person appeared a little too much, George focused on the bartender moves while making the drinks. It almost made him calm. Maybe this evening won’t be too bad. He was genuinely happy for his friends, and any reckless Audi owner can not make him feel bad just because he has a better car than expected.
“Like the car was the only problem.” The thought appeared in his head without any warning.
He definitely needed some air. He would collect the drinks later. The man almost took a way out while cursing himself for forgetting a pack of cigarettes in his coat, but the voice that appeared right behind him made him freeze. It wasn’t happening. It couldn’t. Why the hell…
“One vodka sour, please.”
Max Verstappen leaned onto the counter right next to him. On the contrary to George, he was completely relaxed. Shoulders down, legs slightly crossed. The man had his winter break on it’s full. George twitched towards the door, then leaned closer to the bar to finally just freeze. He had no idea what to do. It was obvious that Max wanted to appear next to him. If he just wanted a drink, he could’ve used a waiter, but he still decided to stand up and come here. The biggest question now was what his intentions were. And that question George could not answer now, nor probably in the next thousand years.
“Having fun with your friends?” Max’s question popped up out of nowhere.
“You can say that.” George looked straight and tried to calm his voice. “Having fun driving like an idiot who wants to kill a pedestrian even off the track?”
Max laughed quietly. It made George clench his jaw, because the sound was way nicer for his ears than he would ever dare to acknowledge.
“You can say that,” answered the man while grabbing his drink and sipping on it.
All that George wanted to do right now was to get himself out of this situation. Preferably, the whole restaurant. Maybe even the city. If only he had listened to Marcus and gone straight to Brackley. Now he was paying for this meeting because of his stupidity. He grabbed his drinks and tried to go back to the table, but Max cut off his way.
“How did you know how I got here? Are you stalking me?”
“You? I’d never waste my time on you. Not again.” he tried to get past the other driver again and was cut off again.
“And yet you’re here. Talking to me.” A smile on Max’s face looked a little bit dangerous.
“Because you’re forcing me,” he hissed. “Now get the fuck out of my way.”
The words came out harsher than he originally planned, but they worked, so he decided to focus on that part. A slight shade of hurt and maybe disappointment that appeared on Max’s face weren’t that big of a deal when he finally had the ability to go back to his place. Yet the look on the other man’s face stayed in his head for another couple of minutes.
Alex and Carlos were fixing their eyes on each other, being so bluntly in love that they didn’t even realise how much time George actually spent by the bar counter. The talk continued while they jumped from topic to topic, saying everything and nothing, but never mentioning the track. They had fun while they still could.
Two other drivers' table was still visible from George’s spot, but he fought for his life not to look in that direction. But how long can a man resist his internal urges? Now and then he decided to take a quick peek, and every time his eyes were almost meeting the edge of the table, he opted out. Something at the back of his mind was telling him that Max was already looking and locking eyes with him, and once again would just kill him.
It was almost midnight when Alex got so drunk that he couldn’t talk properly anymore. But even half blacked out, he still insisted on staying and spending “these last lovely moments with his dearest friend”. Carlos didn’t mind staying a little longer to take time to sober up because driving home was still a better option than taking a taxi, even in a place like Monte Carlo. So, as a kind of pathetic but equally wholesome picture, they were sitting, resting on each other, with Alex talking the most random things and Carlos nodding with no understanding and thoughts flying somewhere else. His hand was mindlessly rubbing Alex’s arm, and the look of that was like a little needle touching George’s heart. The possibility of a relationship like this. The comfort and trust that you can find only in one specific person that you are ready to do everything for. And that gives you strength to bear everything.
His eyes wandered around the room and landed exactly where they weren’t supposed to land. Max was laughing at something Charles said so hard that the sparkles in his eyes were visible from a few kilometres away. For a second, George forgot himself and put his guard down. Enormous mistake. Memories went to him like waves drowning and not leaving even a second for a rescue.
---
The wind was cold, and you could see the storm coming. The sea changed its smell to something nearly ravenous. George tucked the blanket around his arms tighter to not let the last feelings of warmth fly away with the wind. The little cottage where they lived stand on a low hill around three minutes walk from where he was currently. But even with the cold and wind, he wanted to stay where he was. The incomprehensible feeling chained him to the stone he was sitting on and didn’t want to release.
“Come home, you’re going to catch a cold.” Max’s voice was soft and came with a hand slowly patting his shoulder.
“I’m gonna be fine,” George murmured, but it didn’t sound convincing even to him.
Max sighed and stuck a mug of hot cocoa in his hand, ignoring the surprised look. That’s how he was, doing stuff nobody ever asked for but needed sometimes without even realising it. Caring without making it a big deal that you always had to be thankful for. But this didn’t change the situation. Max squatted in front of the other man, looking into his eyes. George couldn’t take his eyes off him and turn his head.
“Hey,” Max's voice soft and caring. “What’s going on? Please, talk to me.”
“It’s nothing.” George tried to brush it off, but the feelings were so enslaving it didn’t sound even a little convincing.
“Why aren’t you gonna talk to me?” he raised his voice for a moment but dropped it the second George flinched.
The whole place went quiet, the only sound was waves crashing by the shore. None of them looked at the other. Both silent and pensive, trying to remember better times.
The times weren’t actually that long ago. Their romance started half a year ago. More like an affair. It was hard to put everything they felt and didn’t feel for each other into words, even ignoring how badly they expressed it. It was always on the edge of casual. Straight talk about what they wanted, flirting, visiting hotel rooms for fun (usually sexual, but they spent one whole night playing board games). But never a word about their feelings. Even if they felt them a little bit too much.
“I can’t talk to you,” George murmured.
“I didn’t want to yell at you, I’m sorry-”
“That’s not it.” Max got cut off. “I can’t talk to you. I don’t even know if I can explain anything to myself.”
“What do you mean?” his face set.
“It’s just a lot. Us.”
“Us?”
“Exactly my point. How can I even tell you there’s something wrong with us if there has never been any us.”
Pure despair appeared on George’s face when he turned to the other man. Tears were slowly reaching his eyes.
“Max…” he whispered the name like a sacred word. “I’m just more and more frightened every day. And I don’t wanna wonder what I am so scared of.”
The man didn’t respond right away. Instead turned his head towards the sea and let the wind tug at his hair. When George became sure he would never get a reply, Max stood up and looked at him. His face was completely calm, but it drained all hope from his body.
“So it got too complicated for you?”
“No, that’s not what I meant. We just never talked, and we can not communicate like two normal people. Also, the character of our job isn’t helpful, and in addition-”
“Okay.” Max’s voice was deprived from any feeling. “You don’t wanna spend time anymore and end whatever it was between us. I’m fine with that.”
“You are?” Tears quietly streamed down George’s face.
“If that’s what you wish for, then yes. I never wanted to be an obstacle to you.”
Max turned away and walked towards the cottage. The unbearable wave of pain almost blew George over. He knew his words, the decision that wasn’t even really made, were going to hurt, but he didn’t expect this kind of ache going through his body and soul. Silent weeping and trembling made him double over.
“Max!” The scream came out of his mouth, but didn’t result in anything. “Max! Max! Max, come back!”
Nothing. Max continued walking and didn’t look back.
---
George got up from the table and rushed outside. Some memories were hurting too much if he let them appear in his mind. A cold breeze hit him and reminded about a coat left inside. Stupid, but he was not planning on going back even for that. Sainz will take care of the bill, he will pay next time. Maybe next time he won’t act like an idiot running out with no particular reason. The wind was becoming even colder, so he hugged himself to warm up a little.
“George!” someone shouted behind him.
No fucking way.
“George!”
It couldn’t be him. Why didn’t he just disappear from his life, or at least life outside of work? The steps of someone approaching became louder.
“George…”
Max stood right next to him. In his extended hand was George’s coat.
“Why did you come here after me?” George took the coat but without thanking Max. “Why do you always have to randomly appear and make my life shit?”
Max raised his eyebrows and made a little irritated face.
“Sorry,” George murmured. “I shouldn’t have said it. It wasn’t fair.”
“Yeah, no problem.” Max looked down and hesitated for a moment. I didn’t want to make your life shit.”
George looked at him.
“Yeah, I figured.”
Silence. Silence again. Why couldn’t they just talk? Communicate? Why was this always so fucking hard for them? Never an explanation. Never resolution. That’s just how they were, and even with time, nothing became easier. Just standing next to each other with mouths shut and unable to make eye contact.
“Life is shit,” Max said it without any context, but George felt like it meant more than just the current situation.
“Yeah.”
“I didn’t want to hurt you that day,” Max whispered. “I was hurt, you were hurt, everything was fucked.”
“I know.” George sighed in resignation.
Max calmly put his arm around him. None of them said anything, but George snuggled into him. They stayed like that for a couple of minutes.
“If lack of communication skills was a sin, we would go straight to hell.”
Max laughed at that sentence. For a second it felt like a good times. Thoughts went through George’s head about trying to explain everything. Going through every little moment between them, saying what they felt. Finally having some closure. But they were never meant to be. Everything they had was a huge mistake that only grew bigger with every second they spent together. But just because it was never meant to last didn’t mean it hurt less. And it hurt like hell even after time. But lack of talking was their thing, so he kept his mouth shut when the tears appeared in his eyes.
Max looked at him with some special affection, weird for him, and turned his face towards the other men. George was tucked into him in such a weird way that made him smaller, so Max was looking down at him. For a moment everything froze. Max got closer to his face and waited another moment before pulling in for a kiss.
The kiss felt like time had never passed. Like they did that every day. They both knew exactly what the other person wanted and enjoyed and went full on it. The weird angle at which George’s head was at the beginning changed, and now both men were standing straight, touching their necks, faces, and holding onto each other's lips.
Enjoy it while you can is an awful but also a beautiful sentence that could be perfect to describe what they felt. It was wrong for them, nothing good would come out of this situation. But still, the need for at least the kiss was too great to fight it.
When they finally drew apart, the need for more was obvious. Max looked at George, asking kindly with his eyes, but even the other man was breathless he shook his head in rejection. The short conversation that happened between their eyes established everything. It was the last time. Not because they didn’t want to, but because they would hurt each other more.
“So that’s it?” Max asked finally.
“Yeah, I think so.” George looked at his man, and a sad smile appeared on his face. “Go inside before anybody notices. And before Charles gets worried.”
“About that…”
“It’s fine, Max, I mean it. You don’t owe me any explanation.”
Max nodded slowly.
“I still kind of feel bad.”
“I just want you to be happy. And if he can make you happy, this is what I want for you.”
George took a step back and looked one last time at Max. The whole situation was overly cinematic and dramatic, but that actually summed up their relationship very well.
“Go inside. I’ll be fine.”
“Sure?”
“Yes.”
Max took a step back and sighted.
“See you around the paddock then.” He turned and left, not a single look back.
“Bye, Max. Bye, Max.” George whispered, waiting for a man to get inside the building, then walked away.