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Hi, Yuki Tsunoda here. Oh, right—apparently in Korea, Japanese names are written family name first? Then I guess I'm Tsunoda Yuki. Anyway, the reason I'm writing this is because so many people have been asking me what happened during the São Paulo Grand Prix drivers' parade. My DMs look like they're about to explode.
So what were Max and George talking about? 🧐 Need that front-row gossip ☕️
OMG they were both holding the same handle 🤯 Must've been SO awkward lol🤣
My memory might be shit, but even I know what that Russtappen... thing is. You guys had fun watching the drivers' parade live, right? I was in hell. Oh, and I want to talk normally, so you don't mind if I swear a little, right? It's not like I say much worse than fuck anyway. Fuck... I guess since this was originally written in Korean, the swearing got translated accordingly. (Editor: damn, fucking hell)
All right, back to the point. The 2025 São Paulo Grand Prix. For once, it didn't rain that much during the race. The temperature was fine. The fans were insane, everything was great. Well. I wasn't having that great a time. Especially after Saturday qualifying, which was a disaster.
...Yeah. I went out in Q1. Fuck. At this point I don't even get angry anymore. It's more like... I just feel empty, I guess. You know what was funny, though? Max went out in Q1 too. Not that I was in any position to worry about anyone else. I was pissed about my own lap time. Anyway, Max said they were changing the power unit and the setup, so he was starting the race from the pit lane. (P.S. And then he finished P3. I swear there has never been a single moment when that man wasn't insane (complimentary).)
Anyway, the next day, before the race, there was the drivers' parade. Each team had one cute little car and we were driving around waving at the fans. Maybe because it was Gabi's home Grand Prix, he and Hulk were riding separately. Everyone looked like they were having the time of their lives. Max was sitting behind me, holding up his phone and filming everything like a kid. Everyone looked about as excited as we did when we got to drive those Lego F1 cars.
Then, completely out of nowhere, the Mercedes parade car just stopped in the middle of the road. No smoke, nothing. It just wouldn't go forward. Kimi had a camera on a pole longer than a fishing rod, and maybe that was why George told him to go ride with Hulk. ...Look, I know. George wanted to come over to Max's car from the beginning. If those two genuinely couldn't stand each other, George obviously would've gone to Hulk's car first. Kimi is even friends with Max! I regret it now. I should've pretended I didn't see the Mercedes car stop and just kept driving. Fuck.
There was no room for another person in our car. Max and I already filled it! Max literally said so himself! There weren't any extra seats in the back or anything—just this tiny trunk-like space with one little handle. And then George started strolling over from the dead Mercedes car toward us. Fuck, why here? Why us?
You guys think those two are just rivals who don't get along, right? Qatar 2024? Baku 2023? You think those were just race incidents that turned into fights? Yeah, right.
Just between us: those two are exes. Like, literally each other's exes. Fans call Russtappen a divorced couple, and... well, you're half right. They were never married, but they are broken up now, so.
Pretty much everyone in the paddock knows. I don't know exactly when they started, but apparently they dated for a long time. I have no idea what either of them saw in the other, but anyway. They were a complete disaster when they were together, and they were a complete disaster after they broke up. They fought all the time. Whatever happened on track followed them off it, and whatever they fought about off track got dragged right back onto it.
I don't know how fans read their personalities, but the relationship I saw was... kind of funny. Max can be aggressive on track and in front of the media, right? But when they were dating, weirdly enough... no matter how hard George went for the throat with that poker face of his, or how much of a dick he was being, Max would just take it like, “Here he goes again.” Can you imagine? This is Max Verstappen, the guy who'll tell reporters, “If my mum had balls, she'd be my dad.” But privately he's actually pretty social. He gets along with the other drivers. He'll happily sit there and chat for ages. Believe me or don't.
George? He acts perfect and rational on the outside, but that's basically his armor. So when someone with no filter like Max tells him he's disappointed and actually hits where it hurts, that armor cracks. George is the kind of person who panics underneath it all and takes the hit much harder than he lets on. I'd bet one hundred percent that's why they broke up. Honestly, the fact that two people who are that badly matched and fight that much still managed to stay together for so long is beyond impressive. It's almost awe-inspiring. ...But that's all old history now. They'd already been broken up for ages. Even in Baku 2023, when fans thought they looked like they hated each other, they were already exes. I think. Maybe? I'm not totally sure. Fuck, the point is they've definitely been broken up for a while now.
Anyway, given all that, lately I thought maybe they'd gotten a little better. They'd exchange a few words when they were both on the podium, things like that. But that's strictly “exes who work at the same company” territory and nothing more. Put them alone together? You get what's happening behind me right now.
George climbed onto the back of the car. Who was already sitting there? Why are you even asking? Max Verstappen, obviously. Fuck. This car is tiny. I'm the smallest driver on the grid and even I feel like I fill the thing. Then those two giants crammed themselves into the back and tried to wedge their legs into whatever space they could find. It was fucking cramped. I could practically feel all that extra mass pressing in behind me. Max is pretty broad up top, you know. (P.S. If you're curious, go look at his shirtless vacation photos.) George is... just tall. His legs are so long that even after he folded one in, the other literally wouldn't fit, so he just propped it on the edge of the car. Anyway, the car was packed. Fuck... I decided I was just going to drive.
As if that was ever going to work.
I hit the accelerator and pulled away, and maybe because we were way over the intended load, the poor car protested by lurching hard. The whole thing jerked forward, and behind me I heard two identical little “Ugh!”s at exactly the same time.
I glanced at them through the microscopic rear-view mirror. Like I said, there was one U-shaped handle at the back of the car. Tiny. The kind of thing one hand could completely cover.
And both of them were holding it. Tight.
When the car lurched, both of them instinctively grabbed for their lifeline, except there was only one. Fucking hell. Max's thick thumb was pressed right up against George's long index finger.
Move your hand. George said it like the contact personally offended him. I couldn't really see his eyes behind the sunglasses, but I know they had to be ice-cold.
Don't want to. It's not like the handle belongs to you. What am I supposed to do when Yuki drives like this?
...Fuck? What's wrong with my driving?!
No, Max, it's the car, what am I supposed t—
Shut up, Yuki. Just drive.
And you know the funniest part? They were growling about how much they hated touching each other, and neither one of them let go. If you hate it that much, one of you can let go! You can grab my seat! But no. They kept that damn handle clenched in their hands with their fingers touching. And because the car was so narrow, Max's left arm and George's right arm were pressed together. Fuck... pretending they're desperate to get away from each other while sitting close enough to feel each other's body heat. Seriously.
Then they started talking as if I wasn't even there. Not about the past or anything. They were talking about yesterday's qualifying. George, wearing that perfect poker face, asked him in this very elegant—no, just very driver-ish—way:
So. How did you end up getting knocked out in Q1, Max?
What.
Nothing. Just curious. I looked at the data and it looked weird. Lando couldn't hide how hard he was trying not to laugh.
Oh, fuck. So we were doing this? The day before, everyone had been whispering that Max's championship hopes were basically dead. And George just had to add that Lando had been laughing. Was he trying to get under Max's skin...? George does seem like the type who can smile sweetly while sliding a knife between your ribs. But Max... I genuinely couldn't tell whether he was oblivious or just impossible to get a rise out of...
Oh, that? Just a setup mistake. So we're changing the power unit and I'm starting from the pit lane.
...I could see George pause in the mirror. My guess is he'd tried to poke him with the Lando comment, but Max just gave him a completely sincere technical answer. Though maybe George wasn't trying to provoke him at all. They're drivers. Maybe he was actually curious. George really does respect Max's driving, at least. Then Max suddenly started grinning.
Why? Worried about my championship?
...No! I was just... curious.
Curious, huh?
Oh, for fuck's sake. And then Max moved the thumb he had wrapped around the handle... just a little. Brushed it over George's index finger. I could feel George stop breathing. Fuck me. They were flirting in my car.
...What are you doing with your hand? George seems to think everyone backs down when he uses that serious voice. Maybe I do. Max clearly doesn't.
What? It's cramped. The fucking nerve of him. If you're going to be like this, just ask him out again—
—and the second I thought that, Max shifted the arm pressed against George's. He slowly rubbed his left arm against George's right arm.
Yeah, it really is cramped. Sorry. But... you still wear this cologne?
...Mind your own business. If I could've yanked George's sunglasses off, I bet the look on his face would've been priceless.
I like it, though. Been a while since we were this close.
Oh my god. What the hell are you two doing behind me?! I'm telling you, these two are exes, fuck! I never would've guessed it, but I cannot get used to Max flirting this openly! Maybe it's because what you see is exactly what you get with him!
Could you stop moving your hand around? It tickles.
You touched me first.
Me? You put your thumb on top of my finger!
Got proof? I like it when our fingers touch. I think this was the point where my face looked the most disgusted. Though it had probably been like that for ages already.
And, Max leaned even closer to George.
I really like that you're worried about my championship.
When did I say I was worried?
Just now. When you brought up Lando.
That was just—!
I know you ran race simulations yesterday. One of the engineers told me. You were more curious than anyone to see how far up the field I'd get.
... George let out a long sigh. He genuinely hadn't known Max knew about it. And now he knew Max wasn't buying the poker face for a second. Max leaned in by George's ear and delivered the finishing blow.
I've got nothing to lose in today's race.
...
You know how I drive when I've got nothing to lose.
George just stared ahead without saying anything. But I saw it all in the mirror, okay? George was biting his lip. Fuck. That's what he looks like when he's flustered. When Max acts like he did when they were dating, George short-circuits, because his one reliable weapon stops working. It took a while before George muttered, very quietly:
...God, that's so you.
George used to say that to Max all the time when they were together. I heard it so much back in my AlphaTauri days that even I remember it! You're insane. Shut up. Of course you did. That's so you... Fuck.
Fuck.
You've all seen that photo of me making that face, right?
Part of it was the headwind making my eyes sting, sure. But honestly? Eighty percent of that expression was because of the couple behind me. Thank god the parade was short. The whole time, it felt like I had a front-row seat to some exes-on-a-dating-show nightmare.
Fuck... I miss Pierre.
That was literally all I could think about. Apparently, even when you're in a relationship yourself, watching other people flirt is unbearable. Maybe I should rein it in a little too. That's the whole story. If I keep going, I'm going to make myself sick. Ah... Have I already sworn too much?
P.S. George came up to me later and apologized. Yuki, sorry about all the nonsense during the parade. I just... smiled at him and handed him a cap.