Adult Content Warning
This work could have adult content. If you continue, you have agreed that you are willing to see such content.
-
Tags
Summary
“Is he fighting for the win?” Another pause. “Or is he planning to catch Norris?”
Max snorted. Someone turned to look at him; he merely shook his head and looked back at the screen. Sarcastic little asshole, George was. Max sipped on his water again and waited for George to unleash the—not the lion, the snake or something, something venomous—at Marcus.
Tough luck, he thought, exhaling harder to clear his lungs. Asking George Russell for team order—who did they think he was, did they not know George at all, George who would rather tear through the track with shredded tires and a slow puncture side-by-side Max rather than give him an easy time of it for even one fucking minute of them being near each other—
“Holy shit.” It rippled through the Red Bull garage, the disbelief and excitement of something unprecedented to enliven the race. “Russell really did it. He let Antonelli through.”
The last Dutch Grand Prix, 2026. Max is very, very ill with the flu, and George had cast his lot in with the devil.
Series
- Part 7 of pareidolia